This is one hazmat situation which occurred when Mr. Bunker attempted to demonstrate his culinary prowess. It looks like the semi-digested stomach contents of a mother swine post slop hork-down. Or maybe something that would contain possum or perhaps even a freshly killed pigeon still containing the BBs that felled it.
I tell him to pack up and get out and he tries to win me back with this mess? If you think it looks bad from this view, just imagine cutting into it and finding big lumps of hot greasy baked avocado. If the thought doesn't make the back of your mouth taste like you just puked a tiny bit then you're a stronger person than I.
Also, lets don't overlook the recent passage of Mother's day, when as usual, I got a brand spankin' new vacuum cleaner. Naturally I've been so overwhelmed with excitement that I've been rendered mute for almost a month. So many attachments, so little time!
This sort of feels like having someone shit on your head without even buying you a drink. Not that I would know, all wild speculation of course.
So anyway, whip my marriage with your pimp cane and kick it out a high window onto the ho stroll, because this stinky old trick needs to be put out of it's misery.
Outside of that everything's GREAT!
