Y’all, you can, if you ignore the fact that we emerged out of the same cooter and now live together, connect the Butcher and me in just two degrees.
Check this. I have a reader, we’ll call her “E” and the Butcher has a friend, we’ll call her “S.” E saw a picture of the Butcher here and then saw a picture of the Butcher over at S’s place and, apparently, E was all like, “What the fuck? That looks like the same dude!” She asked S about it, but S only knows the Butcher and E only knows Tiny Cat Pants. No one was really sure if he was the same guy or not.
So, a flurry of emails between S and the Butcher are exchanged and there it is. The Butcher knows someone who knows someone who knows me.
I don’t know why that tickles the shit out of me, but it does.
ha, that’s EXACLY what I thought – word for word, except I don’t use the word "dude" often. To me, that word is passe’.I never forget a face – It’s a curse of an almost photographic memory.(Glad that gave you a laugh.)E