To follow up on the Pringles story...
When I got home last night, FF was asleep on the couch and the house smelt like pot. He drowsily said, I was waiting for you so we could decide on supper.
We decided on Chalet. Of course! (An aside on the delivery vehicle from Chalet. It made so much noise, I am certain every neighbour must've looked out their windows to see who the hell it was. It looked like it delivered chicken on weeknights and participated in demolition derbys on weekends. Not pretty. And was driven by the third runner-up in the NDG David Crosby Look-alike Contest. Again, not pretty.)
Anyway, we ate our 1/4 breasts of chicken and then FF decided he would have his 3rd joint of the day. He said: "This may be inappropriate, but do you want to join me?" I shrugged. He said, "No, you are probably just a weekend toker."
Try to picture how hard I laughed at the idea of myself as a "toker" of any kind, weekend or weekday or 24/7. Nanuk and toker don't really go in the same sentence.
So he rolled his joint, and I had two ineffectual puffs. So much for that. Then he said he was not at all worried about me becoming a habitual user because once he is gone, there is no way in hell I'm going to find myself a dealer. Finally, he is right about something. The only scenario more ridiculous than "Nanuk the toker" is "Nanuk and her dealer."
After his Chalet meal, he had a beer, then two oranges, one Twizzler (I held on tight to the bag), then another beer, then the rest of the olive bread, then a cheese sandwich. Then he went to bed. I guess that's the munchies.
Now...how do I get rid of this guy?
4 comments:
he will never leave
Call the cops???
JAW fan
Yeah, the cops. That's all this little drama needs.
maybe we can just bring our kids over. Worked with your last landlord getting you out of lease. Maybe they'll drive him away.
oh and don't worry about your supply, Mrs. Anon can always get you some. lol.
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