that explains the yeast infection
And, worse, the crumbs in the bed.
Who’s bready for a divorce?
“Uh oh, now my family is toast!”
Christ, what an asshole.
Woke up this morning and it seemed to me,
That every night turns out to be
A little more like Bukowski.
And yeah, I know he’s a pretty good read.
But God who’d want to be?
God who’d want to be such an asshole?
God who’d want to be?
God who’d want to be such an asshole?
I think I fucked up the last line
“I’m sorry, Monsieur Toast, the job posting was for an experienced host.”
This is my favorite thing of today.
I don’t get it :(
Ah yes, your table is bready for you, sir.
I’m sorry, sir. This is the Toast Masters Club. The Bread Buddies meeting is across the street.
I regret to inform you, sir, that the wedding is off. On her way to the wedding, your bride fell victim to a murder. A murder of crows, to be precise.
Name on the reservation?
