02 February, 2010

dinner with bossmen

you know that flintstones episode where fred neglects to tell wilma that he invited the boss home for dinner? or maybe it wasn't the flintstones, maybe it was some random sit-com from the early 80's. who knows. the thing is, how did those marriages survive? i mean, really? when it is quite possible that when mr. monkey comes home i may be entirely pantless, or sporting a fetching charcoal mask on my face, or sitting in the toilet with the door WIDE open, he'd better not be bringing the boss home. except today he is bringing the boss home. but he told me about it. gave me plenty of warning and all, so we're good.

we went hiking (and falling in vast quantities of cold mud) with said boss last weekend and had a blast, so... i guess it's time to clean up the house, wash my mouth out with soap, and start cooking. boss, i am told, eats very little. mainly he snacks on crumbs from rice cakes and whatever krill might be floating in the air, so i guess he'll be overwhelmed by our pig-themed feast of plenty. then again, after our hike, he picked up a sandwich that had fallen, filling-down, into the muddy ground, picked off the bigger wood chips, and ate it. gotta love a man like that.

visiting ex-boss will also be making an appearance. this man is an avid foodie with an eye-twitch, so you can well imagine we get along famously, although he is occasionally floored by my excessive use of the word "fuck". i'm guessing his is the "oh my gosh" kind of family and i...well, i will stick a needle in my eye before uttering that particular obscenity. oh my gosh, indeed.

wish me luck, my little poultries. let's hope i don't ruin mr. monkey's career with some random reference to a fecal-centric sex act or whatnot. after all, the man is from texas.

1 comment:

jools said...

i have a feeling this is going to turn out well! update tomorrow, please!