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When did you realize she took your frozen meat products? Was it immediate, like "Fuck! The whore is gone and she took my meat!" Or was it more like "Fuck, the whore is gone, but at least I still have my meat," and then a week later you wanted a half-pound burger and wept before the open freezer door?



Brother it was more like the latter... three days of drinking with my friends, them telling me how much better off I was. Sleeping on the couch with the TV on because the bed brought back bad memories. Finally snapping out of it, waking up with a terrible hangover, wanting to cook a damned ribeye on the jennaire to go with my grits and Texas Pete scrambled eggs.

Stagger to the kitchen scratching my ass through my boxers, open the freezer and say: "dayuuum, bitch even stolt my meat, ya'll!"

(PS, my brother and I had just gone in together on a whole fucking cow, man. I had to pay him back).