The ex who won't go away (and won't/can't let go)

Things to do on Friday:

Kill FirstDownPirates.
Go to Ballgame.

That is all.

 

Just trying to fan the flames a little.

I'll pencil you in.

 

Sorry, alley, I'm just making stupid jokes.

And Jones, don't forget to piss on the fire before you head to the game. Sounds like you're living in a tinder box up there.

 

Did I miss something? What's wrong with fire?

 

Just so you know alley, this should involve neither your ass or your mouth.

It should involve zeke's.

 

Nothing, alley. I just hate when relationships are over-analyzed and written up like romance novels.

You know what's the ideal relationship? A guy and a girl who are good friends and who like fucking each other.

Find that, and you're golden.

 

Or Boots?

 

Actually, that's sort of what Ms. Dynamo and I had at first. A sex-only relationship that developed into more.

 

Jones, you want to go ass-to-mouth, you do it up in Canada City, and stay the hell out of my alley.

And judging by the places you  get your libations, you'll probably pull the trick with some nice Polish girl. Just don't come crying to me when it burns when you pee.

 

That's not a relationship, that's prom.

 

That's our slogan: Prom Night, every night. Only without the tears.

 

That's tears, as in crying, not tears, as in... um, you know. The sort that require stitches.