Ted and Theodore Act Like Stuff Still Happened Last Week When Nothing Happen Last Week At All
So right after I got off the call with the Feline-Container Institute of Greater Northern Wisconsin, who produced all that great data from last week, Ted reminded me that it was nearly Superfluous Tuesday, which is what I call Super Tuesday after we’ve been drinking.
What Theodore means is, he nearly forgot to participate in our drinking game I like to call MARCH SADNESS.
Most egregious indeed. This years rules were:
- Every moment Donald Trump stays in the race, take several shots of Basil Hayden’s and try to maintain consciousness.
Turns out, that makes it Stupor Tuesday.
Followed By Well-That-Was-a-Thing Wednesday.
And Then Three-More-Please Thursday.
Finally, its Frrbibt-Zrrt-Woodiddy Friday.
Then it kinda just rolled down hill from there. We rolled down hill. Cats usually don’t roll down hills but we did.
I still have grass stains on my non-existent testicles, Ted.
Needless to say, we didn’t get a whole lot of anything done last week. We rarely do much, but last week, we really didn’t do anything. I think at one point, a pizza guy showed up. We told him we didn’t even order pizza. He complained about the neighborhood kids and we joined in. ‘Yea, screw those hoodlums!’ we said. Then, he just gave us the pizza and left. It wasn’t until he was gone that I asked Theo who he was on the phone with earlier. Turns out, it was the pizza place.
Apparently casual conversations with pizza people are an enforceable sales contract.
I like to think it was a Free-to-Play Mobile game and bitching about other people’s rotten kids is the alternative to paying money and sidestepping awkward personal conversation.
You could call it Pizza Bitch Saga. Do you have to invite everyone on Facebook to play in order to get pepperoni?
No, you have to Snapchat a picture of yourself covered in pizza in a bathtub with the hashtag PIZZABATH420.
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