I love brunch. And now for your reading pleasure, a hännihouse haiku dedicated to my favorite meal time. I call it, Ode to Brunch. Enjoy!
Ode to Brunch:
Sunday brunch is yummy.
Whether eggs, bacon,or toast
that junk is all good
I had brunch with ZP today. We each ate the usual: I chomped down a mountain of grease-drenched hashbrowns, while ZP went for the big drink and biscuits. We had a lovely conversation - mostly about blogging material, boxing and nipple piercings.
The place was pretty dead, except for the group of skanky looking frat-boy types sitting next to the h䮮ihouse table. There was probably four of ‘em in oversized t’s and cargo shorts visiting over their plates of scrambled eggs and pancakes. I didn’t pay much attention, but was sure to keep my voice lowered when talking about such controversal subjects as the aforementioned nip. piercing.
some things,after all, are just not polite to say in public.
And then it happened… during a brief break in ZP and I’s heated discussion, from the frat boy table I heard, dude do you shave your balls? I sat stunned for 2.5 seconds. Then i started chortling - it was all very polite chortling. You know, I kept the noise down to a minimum and was careful not to shake my shoulders too much.
But then they did it again.
frat boy 1: dude, do you really shave your balls?
frat boy 2 (nonchalantly): yeah man
At this point I excused myself from the table and made a beeline for the tray return. All the while I trying to be polite and not snort too loudly. But the fact is when someone’s talking about shaving their business at brunch, well you can’t help but laugh.
And I did laugh. I laughed like it was my job. I laughed like I was gettin paid, baby.