For obvious reasons: Do not go to a bar with a zip lock full of flour in your bag.
For not so obvious reasons: Do not go to a bar with a zip lock full of flour in your bag. You may find the need to antique an ex-boyfriend too tempting to resist.
For even less obvious reasons: Do not go to a bar with a zip lock full of flour in your bag. You may find the need to antique an ex-boyfriend too much to resist. You will then be escorted outside by your brother’s old baseball coach–”Wow! I thought Dumbquat was lying when he said you were a cop!”–in uniform, and your D.A.R.E. instructor will shake his head at you, somehow manipulating you into feeling uncalled for shame over the fact that you just threw a pitcher of beer on that cheating bastard inside, then dumped said bag of flour all over him.
Whatever.
I’m all for cheaters who aren’t me getting their come-uppance, but wasting beer? That’s not cool.
Also, how are all these people still around? You must live in your high school town, which is a bad scene.
It’s a bit worse than that, actually. As I am one of the chosen few: the few, the proud, the broken who were shipped off to military boarding school, I live in my brother’s high school town.
Wow. I’d never heard the term “antiquing” before, but cheaters deserve what they get. It’s better if you can get revenge without getting caught, though. My best friend once put rainbow stickers on the car of the man who did her wrong. Just a helpful suggestion
Well, being escourted out of the bar was kind of a downer. But everything picked up when, after the lecture, one of them lit a cigarette for me, and I was able to turn, wave at the asshole through the large windows of the bar, and calmly walk away.
Harm, but no foul!
Whatever happened to the Gloden Days of Bitchslapping? There was once a time when scorned women could dramatically remove a glove and smack a man’s face with pride. I miss those good times.
I also enjoyed the time when my brother would simply beat the crap out of them for me. Ah… the good old days. I guess now, we have to settle for more inventive ways to get back at them.
oops… i meant “golden days”
i’ve been drinking.
whatever.
Well, I read Golden, but I’ve been taking percocets for a week now. So whatever right back.
Pun intended (when I get around to scraping up the braincells to post again, it’ll make sence).