Thursday, April 15, 2010

Bonnet Up On It (Or, Poor Glenn)

A recap of recent events (OK, here's the Easter shizz I promised last week but got too caught up in the countdown to tax return deadline...goddammit):

I was running down a list of the celebrities I see at my gym for my mother. After saying "Tate Donovan", my mom had a confused look on her face. I qualified Tate's place on the list by saying:

"You know, the male lawyer on Damages."

"Glenn Close goes to your gym too?"

After not-really-accidentally taking over Easter dinner cooking duties from my mother, I asked her opinion a couple of times:

"Is the ham done?"

No response.

"Are the potatoes OK?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"Do you want to taste them?"

She just shrugged her shoulders.

"I don't know why I asked you." I replied to the shrug. "You don't eat this shit anyway...you'll just have your usual Boca Burger and cigarette."

I was waiting for a punch to the arm. Instead I got another shrug and:

"Can you open another bottle of wine?"

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