Tammi the Tuna Cooch

Friday night I went out to Des's house to do a little celebrating of the fact that I have employment, and to wash a whole shitload of laundry because I am penniless. We managed to get Tammi to come out too, she rarely gets to join us in these little get-togethers. Since I was willing to stay sober in order to drive her home, Tammi got all sorts of wasted.
We ended up talking about something bizarre that led to much name calling and I called her a tuna cooch. After that there was no end of "my coochie does not smell like tuna!". She was highly amusing when drunk.
Tammi, I'm sure your coochie does not smell like tuna, but I wouldn't have said it if you hadn't felt the need to wipe your hat in there so that I wouldn't wear it. Come drink with us more often, we miss our little drunk Tammi.

Sadly, I actually forgot to bring my camera with me when I totally had something cool to take pictures of.


P.S.
CoffeeHouser is finally back from her trip and I'm all sorts of excited because I have missed her terribly. She's back in business and writing about poop, my kinda gal.