Goodbye, old friend

I’ve come to the conclusion that cow and I need to stop seeing as much of each other as we have been. I love cow, and although we’ve been back together for 14 years, we need some time off. Every hot dog I eat has become a massive gut bomb, and the occasional burger sits in my stomach afterwards like a ticking colon cancer time bomb. I haven’t had a steak in months, and do not really miss it

Sigh.

It will be had to tell joe, the hot dog guy near the ball park, of my decision. As I walk up to his stand, his face brightens, he smiles, and hands me my footlong without asking a word. He sometimes does this while actively helping another customer, and he and I have been together for 3 years now.

Of course, ask him my name, and he’ll draw a complete blank. But he does sell pizza pie, and he and I will have a nice conversation tomorrow about the joys of pig.

Which occasionally causes me exactly the same problem. It may be onions that are the issue, but cow is definitely not helping matters.

There is always buffalo, which I quite enjoy. Time will tell. And fish are there for me any time, any where.

I’m keeping the beer, though. You can pry that from my cold, dead hands. And pray that it’s empty, because a thirsty revenant is a bad scene.