-John Munch-
I’ve been sick. Very, very sick. Struck down by the cold that won’t die. And so I have been huddled in my house, a shivering mass of snot and achy bones. My friends have sensed my pain from afar, and have been calling to tell me news of the outside world.
K-T called last night. She was drunk. K-T only ever calls me drunk. Which is awesome, and hilarious. You never know what she’s going to say. “Aparently, My sisters is going to have a masculine child.” She announced. “What?” I was startled. “Lizzie’s knocked up?” K-T took another drag of her cigarrette. “Yup. Since September. Apparently, little Zola is going to be a boy.” I was confused. “Zola? Is that what she’s calling it?”
K-T started getting mad. “No! That’s what I’m calling it! Remember when Lizzie used to say that if she ever had a baby she’d call it Gargonzola? She thinks I’m making it up, but you remember, right?”
I remembered. And I posted this Snarky Card today, to celebrate Lizzie’s knocked up-ness. Welcome to the world, little Gargonzola. Don’t mind Aunt K-T. She’s a little wasted.
