Sunday Morning Bulge Breakfast

Ahhh...Sunday. Sunday means breakfast with the girls, our gay friends, and whoever was in bed with us when we wake up. Happy fucking Sunday.

Since Saturday saw copius amounts of whiskey drinking into the early hours of the morning @ 418 Pierce (Quinn and Krissy's house), This particular Sunday was quite the breakfast to behold. Plans were made. Troops were rallied. Eggs were wanted. Bulges were seen.

Wait...what was that?

Oh, yeah. Right. I s'pose I should explain.

So it starts when were all still waiting for a seven-top at the smallest breakfast joint in Lower Haight, and Quinn excuses himself to answer a phone call. As soon as he's out of earshot, James comes running across the sidewalk with something seemingly very important to say.

James: Omigod!! Miranda!! What the hell!! Quinn's Penis is fucking HUGE! Dude, I swear I can map out the veins on that thing through his frikken pants!
Me: Dude! He's gonna hear you!
Joe: Okay, Miranda, no offense to James or anything, because clearly Quinn is both straight and yours, but DUDE. THAT THING IS STARING AT ME.
Me: Okay, um...yeah. I mean, I know...
Sarah: Okay, I wasn't going to say anything, but I can't fucking look away. I mean, that thing is HAUNTING me. I mean, I'm not trying to stare at Quinn's crotch or anything, but I mean...GIRL...come on...
Kate: Omigod, that one's yours? Dude, you are one lucky fucking girl. No wonder you're smiling this morning.
Mindy: Yeah dude, I mean, you had told me about it, but DUDE. PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO EAT. Has he tried breifs?
Sarah: It's like...stuck in my head! I can't stop thinking about it! OMIGOD IT'S FUCKING REDICULOUS!

and on, and on and on...

And so, as Quinn and I continue to fight over whether or not his best friend should get beat up or not, at least everyone can agree on one thing.
Quinn's bulge makes Sunday breakfast memorable.

1 comment:

charles.bukowski.costanza said...

oh, yes. the Battle of the Bulge is one of my favorites.

second only to Operation Iron Triangle.