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“Fortune is a fickle bitch. No, wait… I'm thinking of my wife. That's right, my wife's the fickle bitch. Fortune is some transcendentalist concept.”-Martoon Romeo Fortune 500 CookieQuick, put these shoes on—walk around in them to get comfortable, if you need to. This week, fasten your seatbelt for the ride of your life. Straight over the goddamn cliff and everything. Sure, when you say a dog talks to you, everybody believes you, but make it a rhesus monkey and all of a sudden you're "crazy." Now here's Trip with the sports.Try again later. Bestselling Books
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