Waiter!

by Skippy LeBonne

September 1, 2003

"A ball bearing wearing ranch dressing blessing Blanche's wedding? Upsetting," Ted grieved as he weaved his sleeve.

"Hey, what did you say?" Nate was late. "Speak up toward my head, Ted."

"Whose blues did Louis use?" Ted said.

"Choose? I ought not. Hey, have you met the redhead I caught sleeping on my cot?"

Nate's spate of dates elated Ted who, sated, rated aphids one to ten. A four wined and dined a nine, then mated, milked and bilked her.

"Sad, that fat cad," Ted lamented the male's betrayal. "You shoulda seen that green machine, a real operator. Waiter!"

"Later, sir. Later." The waiter didn't wait.

"I only wanted the quota of soda water afforded my daughter, that which I bought her. Did you see that? That guy looked at me like I was an otter potter," grumped Ted.

"Please, he's only busy tonight," read Ed as he looked in his book. "It's a lonely sight, you sitting here with beer in your tears."

"Cheers," Ted said to Ed, whose otter was dead.

Ed puffed a cigar he'd lit in the car.

"Smoke not lest ye be smoked," joked Ted, the smell already swelling his head.

"Well hell, Ted, these smell just swell. Can't you tell?" he asked as Ted fell.

Nate's plate nearly wrecked when Ted hit the deck. "What the heck, Ted? You almost made me jump and dump my rump!"

"Sorry for the bump," said Ted, feeling like a chump, cursing and nursing his lump. "I guess I'll just breathe later. Waiter!"

Quote of the Day

“Any man who serves as his own lawyer has a fool for a client. Because think about it, stupid, why you gonna pay some guy who didn't even go to law school? That's just dumb. And how do you pay yourself, anyway? Take your money out of one pocket and put it in the other? Silly. Or maybe you've got to hire a neutral third party to take the money and then hand it back to you, like a lawyer or somebody. Shit, this is gettin' expensive.”

-Dred Scott Drummond

Fortune 500 Cookie

You're simply the best, and that depresses us all. The next time you're on trial for murder, don't forget to mention that a Klondike bar was involved. And if you must ask for a lawyer who can get you off, at least try not to do it with that smarmy leer in your eye. Try chewing your food an odd number of times this week, like 6,372. This week's lucky injuries: hangnail, hangankle, ruptured spleen, stabitosis.

Try again later.

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