I didn’t want to cook tonight, so I bought a gut bomb grilled chicken sandwich and fries with an unsweetened iced tea for dinner. I heated it up in the microwave since I live 20 mins from Wendy’s and I bought this around four, took one bite, and the phone rang. Went and answered it, dealt with an issue, went back in and Steve had jumped up onto the counter, separated the buns, and ate the chicken out of my sandwich.
And what pisses me off even more is not only did he show no guilt when I yelled “YOU MOTHER FUCKER” at him, he just had the balls to jump up on my lap and groom himself while licking mayo off his fucking paws.
Look like I am having rice a roni tonight.