The Cereal Wish | Part 1 (Again)
Thank God for the dog. If not for her, my girlfriend wouldn’t let me leave the house. When the pandemic got serious, she didn’t care about toilet paper; she b-lined it for the milk. Our freezer is perfectly packed with Swedish meatballs, broccoli florets, and twenty-three gallon-size Ziplocs of milk.
The Cereal Wish | Part 1
Thank God for the dog. If not for her, my girlfriend wouldn’t let me leave the house. When the pandemic got serious, she didn’t care about toilet paper; she b-lined it for the milk. Our freezer is perfectly packed with Swedish meatballs, broccoli florets, and twenty-three gallon-size Ziplocs of milk.
She said, “You bring the poon, we’ll bring the doom.”
She was always down for trouble.
Always in some kind of it.
Kicked out of the restaurant for dancing topless on the table.
Fired for shaving her head in the Executive Bathroom.
Hunted by a loan shark with one eye for refusing to pay her debt.