That’s what Mary said after she finally popped the biscuit out of the oven. Little did she know.
I had a lovely christmas, thanks. Secret Agent Fred was over at his abusive boyfriend’s place (which is actually Fred’s place, but when the boyfriend becomes too abusive, Fred comes over here to hide. Life is so complicated.) So it was just me and Saki and some banana pudding and some left over home made chicken pot pie (beyond delicious) and some fudge, also home made, and some oxycontin. Saki would stand on my chest screaming that it was time to feed him, I would stumble downstairs, scrape out the cat food, eat a piece of fudge and fall back in bed. Fabulous.
As is this mid-century Norman Rockwell knockoff.
You know those two gentlemen on the end of the couch are planning sodomy once they’ve fed their wives enough Manhattans, those teens by the clock are tripping like a thousand screamin monkeys and think they’re talking to Chrissie Hynde and the old farts in the kitchen are chained to the stove after last years’ “incident.” Happy Holidays bitches.
Speaking of planning sodomy, here: