The best friend of the previous post has an affinity for slapping her husband across the cheek with perfectly sliced pieces of roast beef.
I do not know where this affinity stems from. Even I, innocent me, was threatened with a slap to the face. With roast beef. Cow. Mammal. Meat of hay-grazing moo-ers. I am horrified. I will form an alliance with Husband of Beef Slapper and together we will put an end to her buffoonery. We will.
In the meantime, she brought roast beef to my apartment last night for sandwiches and gossip. (Yes, roast beef is required to eat and also gossip). I came away from the night unscathed. Beef went only into my mouth. And also into Harley's face as she continually shoved her damp, pink nose into my perfect sandwich because she is Satan and SO NAUGHTY.
Cough. Moving on.
Just now, in response to my prior moping, I receive an email, clearly stating her sentiment:
"I just read your blog. It made me sad. I knew I should have slapped you in the face with the roast beef."
I am speechless. And also removing roast beef from any future endeavors with said friend.