I get a call on the way home from work. “Honey, where’s the hammer?”
“Why?” I ask.
“I’m fixing dinner.”
My little Martha Stewart. Post prison. 😉
I get a call on the way home from work. “Honey, where’s the hammer?”
“Why?” I ask.
“I’m fixing dinner.”
My little Martha Stewart. Post prison. 😉
Oh, she was out hunting, literally, down something for dinner.
I wasn’t hunting. I was only beating the meat.
Next time beat your meat with an iron skillet. Works better.