They showed up anyway, and ate all the ice cream. Actually, other than the salmon croquettes and hand-crafted caviar from the labs at Solvang, the dessert was the fanciest dish on the card table uncle mordechai koffman the taller had dragged down from the attic to set up in the foyer, where everyone was required to pull on an extra pair of shoes to cover the filthy ones which had trod outside the dwelling of dr. and mrs. punctual-puntillious. i must admit to having noticed their daughter of 13, pusillanimous, had more than her share of the dairy delight as well.
 

we had run into dewayne at the washeteria. dewayne, whose other name is Wayne D
 

The card table was set up int eh spare bedroom, which had a tv and a grandpa, but neither of them worked.
 

I was surprised not to find some shape or form of meatballs at the bar mitzvah. I had promised my grandmother, who says she voted for the pope when he was elected over richard strauss, that there would be meatballs at the party.
    late in the evening she grabbed the sleeve of the man in the yellow hat and told me quite grandmother-of-factly, "this is what you meant by meatballs."
 

someone from across the room threw a matza ball at us. or at her. or at me.
 

from across the room, the controversial pollack threw meatballs at all the party guests who weren't wearing offtone gray, the official hue of the polish people he assured us later in a loud voice.
 

i dont smoke pcp; i just carry it in my pocket in case i need a helicopter.
 
 
 
 

Whaaat? You din't get to Solvang yet?!?
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