Here's my house. It's been a long and fun night that featured vodka and herbal goodness and, well, I got around to making dinner at 11:00. Also, I just sawed my way into a bottle of cranberry tablets with a butcher knife. Damn. There seemed to be no other way to open them, and when you need cranberry tablets, you need them. So I cut the top off with the butcher knife and, as it turns out, my knives are dull as hell. They don't hardly cut through pill bottles like you'd like them to.
In some kind of theoretical past universe, men come by in white trucks to sharpen your knives. Nowadays, of course, if the men in the white trucks come by it hardly ever means anything good, and sharpening knives is the last thing on tieir agenda. Which is, on second thought, a good thing. Because honestly, having guys come by and sharpen knives at your house was probably a good thing back in the day, but now we've all seen too many horror movies.
Which still leaves me with dull knives. Damn.
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2 comments:
Wow! That sounds like parties at your house 10 years ago...somethings never change.
Yeah, fortunately things never change around my house or life. ;-p 20 years of parties that end with dinner at 11 and still going strong.
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