Well my friend, we knew this day would come eventually, but I still shed tears at your untimely demise. For yea though I wrapped you in bubble wrap, it didn’t prove enough protection from those bastards at the USPS. We had some good times. Remember that time I made extra crispy bacon on you, and forgot to wash you out afterwards? Yeah, those were some good times. All the pork products that went through you….it was like we were made to be together. I never wanted to lose you, but maybe you will find comfort in the knowledge that your friends, Mr. Computer CPU and 17 inch Monitor arrived ok.
Don’t worry, Saint Billy Mays will have a special spot in heaven for you with regular cleanings, thin cuts of meat and a surge protector.
To show my love, I commissioned a poem to be written by the great poet Claymore of Marietta.
I packed you to move
Now you function no longer
Rest in peace friend George
So I guess this means we’ll be eating out this weekend…
Alas! Only the Good go to Saint Billy early …
Ok, Ok, you sucked me in. Email me your new address and I’ll send you a new George Foreman grill. Geez, you didn’t have to be so public about this.
I’m going for more kleenex now.
I thought he was from Macon?!
I appreciate it Tanker, but I just don’t think I am ready to love and hurt again so soon. I owe it to Grilly McGrillmaster to go without his fat reducing awesomeness an appropriate amount of time.
It is part of the postal systems efforts to help stimulate the economy.
So I guess this means we’ll be eating out this weekend…
Am I the only one who thinks that’s an awkward sentence?
You are a bad man claymore. And not to worry hon, I have a stove now.
We will likely be eating in restaurants none the less. Except for Friday when you are making me your award winning lasagne. This time real sausage, no turkey sausage.
Eating out….real sausage. Yeah, I’m with you Claymore.
Claymore, why is that awkward, I don’t get it?
Caroline: Just have him take you to the place I mentioned in an email to him; good food, good beer; mmmmmmm beeeeer.
Trooper, big fan of that place, go there fairly regularly, although I usually get the steak. We’ll probably go there or Ruth’s Chris Steak house, then to Rathskeller for some live music.
There’s just no delicate way to handle any of this, so I’ll resort to more poetry:
Roses are red
Violets are blue
TSO adds: and if claymore thinks I am keeping that up, he’s out of his screw.
– Claymore Wadsworth Longfella
Damn, TSO, you’ve got the plan down! Rathskeller is a great way top off the night!
Those sound great, I’m hungry already, but what about the German place you were talking about I was looking forward to a good bratwurst.
…the jokes just write themselves, folks.
Why are you enticing Claymore and Tanker to more naughtiness?
LOL!!!!
As for German food………..yummy.
She knows we need the entertainment.
I don’t know what you are talking about, you were so excited about that place when we were talking about it earlier this week.
That is Rathskeller babe. We will get you brats and weiners, scnhizels and pretzels.
Go ahead Claymore, she’s asking for it now.
Lessee…
Eating out
More sausage
No turkey
Keeping it up
Less grease…
I’m starting to sense a pattern here.
How are you holding up battery-wise? 😉
I like this thread.
Durex, anyone? 🙂 Youse guys have me LMAO. I am in the middle of unpacking, again. Phew, My stomach hurts from laughing so much. Moving sucks.
Pattern? Yeah…it’s a pattern, just like how retards love Chucky Cheese…totally random.
“…brats and weiners, scnhizels and pretzels”
Could we get a wedding date? At least an engagement. This is just all SO in the wrong order.
Hey Caroline…careful with the mustard on the brat. Spicy’s probably not a good idea.
tankerbabe
Depends whether you grill or saute it.
Spicy’s good with the grill, or so I’ve been told.
The saute needs onions and peppers, or so I’ve been told.
Straight out the package needs a couple Altoids. Or so I’ve been told.
Me, I’m partial to tacos.
Ok, I think this calls for a fundraiser to get TSO a new George Foreman grill. That way, he can cook the brat in private, instead of public.
AW1 Tim: Tacos rock!!
*pours a jar of bacon drippings on the ground in memory*