What's the worst that could happen?

The following is a work of fiction...mostly.

It's been 15 days since my wife left to tour Europe.

We are down to our last 2 cans of ravioli. I try not to broadcast my thoughts of cannibalism, the cats are so far unaware of my desperate intentions...but the dog knows...she knows...The ginormus pile of laundry in the living room has served as a makeshift bed since the bedroom had to be abandoned after the horrible anchovy pizza/trampoline accident, I'm afraid to go back in and look, it's best of the door just stays barricaded shut... Doing laundry at this point (even if I knew how) would be a waste of time,  Why have clean clothes when the rest of me hasn't  seen a bar of soap in a week. The bathtub is still full of ice and the remaining $400 worth of imported beer, not buying more groceries was a SERIOUS misjudgement on my part. There is good news, for the most part the fire damage from the party is minimal, the neighbors have decided not to press charges and I think most of their cats hair will (probably) grow back. 

I have to go now, it's time to start the trash fire in the back yard to heat up supper (ravioli again...for now...)

I miss my wife...

If you see me online, hit me with a party invite, I'm tired of playing with myself.

I miss my wife...