I Live In A Frat House

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Dinner at my parent’s isn’t a formal affair, even when they’re lucky enough to have my fake brother (my best friend, Matthew) over for pasta.  So there we all were…sitting around the table, while my mother assembled marinara with Italian sausage in the kitchen.

Mom: “Megan, you want extra sauce, right?”

Me: “Yes, please.”

Mom: “No sausage, right?”

Me: “No, thank you.”

Mom: “Matthew, sausage?”

Caolinn: “Oh, Uncle Matthew wants hot Italian sausage alright.”

Me: “CAOLINN!”

Caolinn and Matthew: (high-fiving)

 

Once Daily Cialis…Fighting For Boners…Two Side-By-Side Bathtubs At A Time

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(Before you accuse me of an ethnic slur…I’m Italian…I’m allowed.  Also, it’s a total compliment to the male half of my people…)

Standing in my parent’s kitchen, overhearing yet another advertisement for erectile dysfunction medication…

Caolinn: “My heart isn’t healthy enough for sexual activity.”

Me: “Good, because my heart isn’t healthy enough for you to have sexual activity.”

My Dad: “What are you guys talking about in there?”

Together: “Nothiiiiiiiing.”

Fiat…I Want A Check…And Condoms In The Glovebox.

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Ryan: The kids with their dad?

Me: Yup.  I might pull a Risky Business in a minute and do some air guitar in my underpants.

Ryan: Just don’t start a brothel in your house, or you’ll spend the entire weekend terribly concerned about an overpriced crystal egg.

Me: You just know his parents were at some high-end swinger’s weekend…some Eyes Wide Shut number.

Ryan: You mean where they wear masks, and could just as easily be attending a human sacrifice?

Me: WASP boners as far as the eye can see…

Ryan: WASPS don’t have “boners”, and they can only get them if they throw back a Cyalis with their single-malt.

Me: Thank God we’re just poor Irish-Italian immigrant trash.  Our people only needed a couch and healthy dose of shame, and it was on.

Ryan: Shame is Irish lubricant.  Also liquor, let us not forget the liquor.

Me: And the Italian side?

Ryan: Italians are passionate.  Any high surface will do.  Countertop…Tables…Hood of a Fiat…

Me: Back of a Vespa?

Ryan: I’ve heard you can’t get pregnant on the back of a Vespa.

Me: I think we just explained why you have so many cousins, Casanova.