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

“Why do birds suddenly appear, every time you're near? Bitch, you stink like birdseed.”

-DJ Qwik Bitz

Fortune 500 Cookie

This is really going to be your week: You will be held personally responsible for everything that happens on the world stage this week. Try bathing with Comet instead of soap for a change, trust us, it's just as good. Your lucky haircuts: Duck's Ass, Ant Hill, Elephant's Crotch, Bill the Cat, Baker's Dozen, Louisville Doosey, Bung Wipe.

Try again later.

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What Holds It All Together
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America the Beautifart
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