TUCKER MAX IS THE MAN
One random Friday I was sitting in my Chicago apartment drinking a beer and watching TV. Around 7, my phone rang. It was “Karen,” one of my booty calls at the time. It was early so I was kinda confused; we normally never called each other until at least midnight, even on weekdays:
Tucker “You drunk already?”
Karen “Hehe. No baby. What are you up to right now?”
Tucker “Nothing. Watching Morimoto make some crazy mushroom crème brulee. Battle Porcini on Iron Chef.”
Karen “Uhhh, OK. Well…I am going on some silly blind date tonight that my friend set me up on…but I was wondering if I could swing by your place and get a protein shake first?”
Very nice. Karen is obviously making an attempt to move up from Irregular Booty Call to Head Dick Sucker.
Tucker “Yeah, sure. Just come on by. I’ll be here.”
Karen “Cool. I’ll see you soon.”
Tucker “Hey baby–bring me some beer.”
Not even ten minutes later, she rolled into my place…with a 12 pack of Miller Light. Karen’s going to have to learn the difference between good beer and watered down horse piss if she wants to move up in my Ho Hierarchy.
-tuckermax.com
He does not make this shit up. Everyone must read