She keeps calling me "Buddy." I am not a Buddy. Nor a Bud. I will answer to Big Guy or Mister Max, but not Buddy.
And tonight? Tonight she walks through the door and is all, "Hey, Buddy," and acts like I'm supposed to be glad she's home AND calling me by someone else's name.
I tell you what, I would have totally ignored her and turned around and walked away if not for the chunk of real live fresh dead cow she had for me.
For steak, I'll play along for a few seconds.
But as soon as I'd had my steak...doods, I turned my back on her.
Buddy, my asterisk.
And tonight? Tonight she walks through the door and is all, "Hey, Buddy," and acts like I'm supposed to be glad she's home AND calling me by someone else's name.
I tell you what, I would have totally ignored her and turned around and walked away if not for the chunk of real live fresh dead cow she had for me.
For steak, I'll play along for a few seconds.
But as soon as I'd had my steak...doods, I turned my back on her.
Buddy, my asterisk.
