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Boy, there are a lot of singles here. I had no idea thered be this many other bachelors. Sure, I expected some of these guys to show up -- Count Chocula hasnt had a date in centuries. Chef Boyardees never done well with the ladies, and that Trix bunny -- word is, hes still a virgin. Silly rabbit. Chicks are for kids. And dont even get me started on those Keebler elves. Theyre here looking for women... riiiiight. We all know whats going on in that oak tree, fellas. Youre not fooling anybody. Still, theres some real competition here, too. Louis Rich? Jimmy Dean? Oscar Mayer? Jesus, its like a sausage factory in here. And that Mayer guy -- the rumor is... well, you know. His bolognas got a first name and a last name, if you know what I mean. If those guys snatch up all the hot chicks, its really gonna boil my broccoli. Suddenly, Im having second thoughts. But theyre ready to start, so what the hell. Into the frying pan, I guess. Session #1: Mrs. Buttersworth Nice woman, I suppose, though a little old for me. Turns out shes a widow; Mr. Buttersworth died a few years back, in a freak molasses accident. Seems like shes desperate to find another man; the vibe I got from her was all clingy and sticky-sweet. I think shed be tough to handle, except in small doses. Session #2: Betty Crocker Jeez, another gal past her prime. She could be my grandmother, for the love of leafy lettuce! At least she doesnt come with a lot of baggage -- though how an old-fashioned woman like her could stay single this long makes me wonder. I thought maybe shes lesbian -- but look at those clothes. An apron? And a bonnet? Nah. Theyd laugh her right off the field hockey team. Must be something else. Something scary in her past. I dont need that kind of train wreck. Next. Session #3: Wendy Hrm. Cute. Redhead. Freckly. Jailbait. Jeez, do they not check IDs for these things? I cant even look this girl in the pigtails without feeling like a dirty old man. Leave her on the vine, man; this ones not ripe yet. Man, thatll soften up the old celery stick. Speaking of which, I could sure use another Bloody Mary. Bartender! Session #4: Mrs. Paul Great, another widow. Is it all dented cans in this place, or what? I dont think Im being overly picky; its not like Im only looking for a thirty-foot tall girl with green skin. Just give me something to work with here. Still, Mrs. P. does make a mean fish stick. She may be a little wilted and brown around the edges, but you cant argue with good cooking. Ill put her on the maybe list. Session #5: Sue Bee Now were talking -- this girl is hot like a bagful of jalapenos! And the costume getup doesnt hurt, either. Oh, sure -- now she takes offense when I ask whether her clothes are tandoori and curry Indian or we call it maize Indian. Lady, Im sitting here in a toga made from fricking leaves. Get over yourself, already. But no. Now its the silent treatment for the next five minutes. Cmon, it was a joke! Im freezing my peas off over here. Bitch. Session #6: Clabber Girl Creeping cauliflowers, she introduces herself that way? Damn, no wonder she cant get a man, if she-- Oh. Wait. Clabber Girl. I thought she said Clapper Girl, like shed contracted... um, yeah. How awkward is that? Lucky for me, the session got cut short by a commotion at the bar. Seems Mrs. Buttersworth had been hanging out with St. Pauli Girl all night, got herself hammered, and propositioned the bartender with a three-way with her sister Jemima. *shudder* Yow. I could have gone a whole harvest without picturing that. Session #7: Sara Lee Wow, what a cutie. This is what I came here for! Great girl, fantastic smile, fun to talk to, quick on her feet -- theres just nothing wrong with this lady. She can cream my niblets any day. Of course, from what my buddy Dinty Moore tells me, thats the problem. The way he tells it, nobody doesnt like Sara Lee. Shes bumped Brussels sprouts with half the guys on the shelves -- Mr. Peanut, Mr. Clean, even Poppinfresh. That pasty little dough boy got to see her hee-heee! before I did. Its just not fair. Eh, screw it. At this rate, Ill never find a girl. If anyone needs me, Ill be in the corn field with a tub of Cool Whip and a Butterball turkey. You, um... you might want to knock first. I may be jolly, but a green giant has needs, you know? |
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