A new year, a new Possibly Irish Danny sighting!
D had a doctor's appointment this morning, from which we took the Prison Bus home. And who should be waiting to board with us at the depot but our boy! I can only wish I had been privy to this entire cell conversation, because it was a good one. Something about some blond girl who offered him a ride in her car, then wanted him to go back to her place. Then something about her giving him something, or putting something in his pocket (it was unclear), and telling him not to look at it until he was out of her car. And it was a $20 bill. Excuse me, what? Did this hussy have our boy confused with a man-whore? I personally did not have him pegged as anyone's idea of a gigolo, but hey. Kids these days. I dunno.
One thing I do know. This--this--is the kind of behavior that can only lead to swabbing. Don't accept rides from sketchy women, Possibly Irish Danny. Just say no. You'll thank me in the end.
xoxo
9 comments:
This--this--is the kind of behavior that can only lead to swabbing.
Lead to swabbing, huh?
Swabbing what, his Jackson or his johnson? ;-)
They say a remarkable percentage of our paper money turns up positive for various dangerous substances...
What I want to know is why certain people's imaginations so easily run to such sordid stuff when it's quite obviously possible that Possibly Irish Danny was just out helping a friend with her shoveling.
If it was anyone else, Mr Barma, I'd agree, but this is Possibly Irish Danny after all!
Do you mean to suggest that Possibly Irish Danny might *leave out* the snow-shoveling part in a conversation with a friend about what a blonde woman wanted him for?
Is that something a man would do??!?? Really? You're kidding!
Well, first of all, you said yourself you didn't catch 100% of the conversation. Then there's the natural self-deprecating nature of all men while doing favors for various damsels in precipitory distress, lest they be teased by their buddies or caught out to be a "nice guy" which definitely cuts down on the opportunities for swab-worthy behavior...
I know, I know, I should give our boy the benefit of the doubt. But tattoos are freaking expensive. Part of me just likes to imagine he financed all that new work on his hands by wimmin paying him for the pleasure of his company.
When you put it that way, I can definitely go with your conjecture. Next chance, you need to try to overhear hints on tactics, cuz I'm thinking this may hold the answer to my alimony problem.
My first tip (not even overheard!) is this: to better the likelihood of wimmin leaving twenties on your nightstand, you need to buy (or otherwise acquire) a nightstand. I wouldn't go so far as putting out a tip cup, 'cause that'd be tacky :-)
Yeah, always you gotta spend money to make money... It's not like I haven't been looking, but I guess I'm as picky about my nightstands as I am about my wimmins. Only the best of the best will do. (Don't ask me what I was thinking 20 years ago--I'm better now).
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