Seattle, WA —
Casey Anderson’s husband, Jay, is hot garbage. The idiot can’t keep a stable job to save his life. He looks like an uglier version of Steve Buscemi, if that’s even possible. After four years of marriage her friends still continue to ask her what she sees in Jay. “You deserve better. We just don’t get it,” her lifelong friend, Tara Jones, stated. “He can’t keep a stable job, he’s a humorless fuck, and his hygiene is questionable most of the time.”
Casey explained: “I love a good challenge, which is why I married the dumbfuck,” motioning to her husband laying on the couch, oblivious to the conversation at hand, beer gut hanging out of his Danzig t-shirt that fit 35 pounds ago, binge watching The Sopranos for the sixth time this year. “He can’t even get all of the chips in his mouth. It’s fascinating to watch, really. The crumbs will be stuck in his beard for days, and then he’ll eat them like they’re some kind of special snack. You could make an entire new bag of chips with all the pieces smashed in between the couch cushions. God, he’s so fucking disgusting. I love it. I love him. I don’t know.”
By Catricia