Comped Bread

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Comped BreadComped Bread,
originally uploaded by Whazzmaster.

Man, I remember it like yesterday: we were straggling through vegas parking lots simply so we wouldn’t have to be exposed to the Strip anymore and we spied a bread deliervy truck making the rounds to the restaurants on the strip. It was parked and a guy was loading bread onto a dolly. Scientist yelled, “HEY, CAN WE HAVE SOME BREAD?” The man disappeared behind the truck, and then walked us over a loaf of bread and bid us a good day. That’s when we realized Vegas was awesome, and it’s sense of hospitality trickled down to even the lowliest bread truck deliveryman. We took that bread back to the hotel room at the filthy Tropicana and ate the shit out of it. Then we threw three (3) pieces out of the window along with our socks. They stunk of drunk dude. The socks, not the bread.

16 thoughts on “Comped Bread

  1. Check the On This Day and look in the comments. Today is the one year anniversary of a very interesting day in my life.

  2. I liked “Comped Bread”. Next time I’m in Vegas, I’ll have to test out the hospitality quotient myself! Of course, the next time I’m in Vegas will probably be in 18 or so years, when my child is all grown up!! Hehe…

  3. jacobs baby update: judd and i had a dr’s appt yesterday. i weighed in at a whopping 168 lbs. damn!! never in my life did i think i would weigh that much! we heard the baby’s heartbeat, which is always the most exciting part of the appointment. apparently, the doctor doesn’t think that i’ll be delivering early, despite the size of my belly (although she can’t say for certain, of course). we have our last ultrasound scheduled for next week. i can’t wait!!

  4. sweet! I’ll be sure to throw some of it off our second story “balcony” along with some of Judd’s dirty gym socks…

  5. ooooooooooo… I like that pic! I’ll put the over/under on my IQ when that was snapped at 70. I’m betting the under.

  6. And I got 20 bucks on the Brewers. I put a hundo in a sports book and I’m going to use 20 at a time on Brewer games, but only when I’m pretty sure that they are going to win… like today.

  7. Madd, whazz and I are like chicks with coordinated periods except the blood comes out our butts and our ideas also align. Yesterday I was pondering Robot Chicken and, yah, it’s time to stop. It’s gotten really bad. In fact, the only times it was every good can be counted on my left hand:

    1. George Bush Zoom, zoom, zooooooooom.
    2. The amazing race won by Mario with the purple shell.
    3. The Voltron Dance Off.

    Otherwise this show blows. I mean, that bit where the valets took Kit and got him so drunk he puked was funny, but otherwise it was all obvious. All the shit they do is obvious.

  8. so it is shocking AND obvious… perhaps that is the mass appeal it caters to. jordi, lets go do something with the matter / anti-matter reaction.

  9. The newlywed couple wandered Santana Row peeking in bookstore for books on baby names when the wife clutched her belly, swollen at eight months.

    “What is it?” asked the husband.

    “The baby,” said the wife, closing her eyes and concentrating. “She wants fire-roasted artichoke and miso salmon.”

    The husband put his hand to his chin, pondered and then snapped his fingers.

    “Cheesecake Factory!”

    On the drive there, the wife anxiously nibbled toasted almonds and dried apricots, and wished her husband would step on it as he chatted on the phone with his sister about baby names.

    Due to the holiday, it was Easter, they had no problems with parking and soon they were seated, but to their disappointment, at a “regular” table, with their neighbors so close they might as well have been at the same table.

    And quickly things got worse: Seated next to them was the Madd Scientist and his cohort, drunk on steam beer, whazzmaster.

    “Care to play?” asked the Scientist, producing a deck of cards and waving his hand over a plate of miso salmon.

    “What stakes?” growled the Husband.

    The Scientist’s face blazed with a smile like a great gap-toothed Jack-o-lantern.

    “My fish vs the naming rights of your first born child.”

    Before the Husband could answer, the Wife pushed him aside.

    “Deal the cards you son of a bitch.”

  10. fucking terrific. and as someone who was there, i can attest that that’s exactly how it went down.

  11. Gald ya liked the story. I was giggling to myself like a little cal the whole time I was writing it.

    Also, that Brewer bet hit: 20 paid 26.30. BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM

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