Tonight was Thanksgiving dinner. No, not just in my little universe… this was a dinner of friends. Your family you’re stuck with – your friends you pick.
Aside from great food, the following things came flying across the table and are not made up:
- Lick my ass and call me Sally.
- I like my women like my turkey – ground up and in the freezer.
- I like my women like my turkey – dead.
- I like my women like my meatballs – grey and covered with red sauce
- Why is my jaw so sore?
- Let’s play TSA. I’ll stand behind and grope you.
- I’ll take the child molester for $500, Bob.
- Aren’t all you guys not shaving for prostate awareness?
- ODB – doesn’t that stand for Oh, Dem Breastisiz?
- I don’t know what your prom date did to you when you were sixteen…
- Anybody who slices up an accordion is a hero.
- Ah, Florida: the silent Auschwitz.
- I can vomit on you from here.
- She’s finding new and exciting things to shoot through her nostrils.
- Ooh, my camera is just like that but the lens is longer. [She’s spoiled.]
I’m stuffed and tired but can’t wait for next year. Something tells me family dinner isn’t going to be this amusing.