I have dated a girl that on two occasions has broken into my apartment. One time it was to try to give me a blowjob and the other was to make me a spaghetti dinner. And I will have to say as far as home invasions go, those are two of my favorites…Fellatio and pasta. Much better than the predictable stealin or a stabbin. The spaghetti break-in came first because my thought is ya probably like to be wined and dined on a break-in before trying to break-in and enter a man’s pants. It’s the respectful home invasion thing to do.
During the first incident I was hanging out in the backyard with my friend JR watching the Cubs game. The girl I was seeing called and wanted to come over. I said no, no you’re not. I am trying to have a good time. Do not come over here. She started yelling and screaming and spitting so I told her we were done. Done-So. Canceled. Not together anymore. Napkin on the plate mate. Take it away please. You can keep my Fuel cd and cargo shorts. All they will do is remind me of the time we went to Great America and Cracker Barrel. And that memory hurts too much to feel anymore. Then I hung up (click). After I finished up the game I went into my apartment, to find her there…in my kitchen, making me an italian dinner. She acted like she was a house wife and I had just gotten home from the office? “Bongiorno! How was your day honey! Sit down and relax.” Uhhhh what are you doing here? Did I not just break up with you 63 minutes ago? “Oh that, I figured you were just grumpy and needed a nice meal. I made you farfalle pasta with the vodka sauce of the old lady on the jar that you like so much.” Um…how did you get in here? I never gave you a key. “The window was open.” Oh yeah I forgot I leave that open for impromptu cooking of traditional italian meals. I need you to leave now psycho! You are insane! Are those Pillsbury Croissants I smell in the oven? “Yes and they are almost done!” You know you are crazy as cantaloupe right? You can’t just sneak parmesan and baguettes in through the side window and think everything is gonna be forgotten! Speaking of…can I get a little more parmesan over my farfalle noodles please. I love how they look like bowties for newborn babies. Hey, If you think this changes anything then you are sadly mistaken little lady (slurp). I canceled our relationship and it is not up for renewal. Are these homemade croutons in the caesar salad? “Yeah I made them with sourdough and oregano.” Well you oreganos what this guy likes! Um, the food…not you. I guess since you broke in already you can stay…to make dessert. That is probably the only thing we Cannoli agree on.
Fellatio – In the 14th century this was the classy way to say I’m a whore.
Fuel – If you are having a “Bad Day” this band and song will ensure the blade makes its way to both of your pretty wrists.
Pillsbury Croissants – Can’t afford to go to that 24 hour Greek Diner anymore? Darn. But don’t worry because this little white guy found a way to comfort your belly and help you reminisce about those Hobo Skillet good times with your high school pals.