Usually I get an email response from one of my contributors telling me how they want to buy the farm. In this case I met with these fine folks at a chain burger restaurant in Dallas. They had been moving IKEA furniture all day long in the Texas sun and were in the mood to talk about mortality as long as they could get something cold to drink. Note that this was in December. Texas is hot. Tony (the beloved husband) maned his digital voice recorder and captured the conversation on the (correct) assumption that my memory is shot to hell.
3 comments:
I says to Tony this morning, I says,
"Hope you don't mind I put you on my website."
He blanches, "Oh no. You put up a comic about us having sex didn't you. You told me you were gonna ask me first!"
Be comforted that I restricted myself to revealing a pet name. Coulda been so much worse! Don't you agree snugglebum?
Erick Daly, you can't just blame Austin for trashing the apartment... I sold your samurai swords for fifty bucks. I also had to sleep on Jon Bird's floor for a week because of you, you stinker. I think I have never moved on from that.
Erick, I never moved on from the way you trashed the apartment -- and youcan't just blame Austin for that! I sold your samurai swords for fifty bucks.
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