Look at me. I’m like a child on the morning of his birthday, waiting for the mailman to bring him a gift. No, it’s worse than that: I’m like a spoiled lapdog running to the window every ten seconds, waiting for his owner to come home. Every faint whiff of perfume that wafts through the slightly cracked window has him running around in circles near the front door.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tagged: Bay Area Brit, humor, Matty Stone, The Bay Area Brit, The Package, Waiting for a delivery |
The old lady loved it!! (and you know what a hard a– I am.)
Thanks, Pat!
Well, that encaspulated package-waiting day quite well. And the postal-guillotine cartoon is excellent.
(Also: I’m glad that no trucks from Distrito Federal, México drove by during your wait.)