Driving up the street on
Driving up the street on my bike today, I recognized a woman who was at the bar last night. She was still wearing the same clothes she had on at the club.
After I passed her, I put my clenched fist in the air in a gesture of victory and solidarity. "Yeah! Walk of shame! Going home in your party dress! Buttered bun!"
I seem to have really tapped into something, so to speak, with the whole "buttered bun" thing. Last night and today the "buttered bun" was on everyone's lips, so to speak.
I hung out on the street with the boys this afternoon, trying to guess who'd had their buns buttered recently.
All right, we have to take this shit to the next level. If a buttered bun is a woman who has recently had sex with someone else, and then you sleep with her yourself, that woman becomes... I'm calling it... a "hot cross bun."
Night is falling. I haven't showered. Ha!
Had an early evening nap in the backyard and dreamed about a wicker basket full of warm, fresh dinner rolls.