“Hey dude!”
“What?”
“Says here that Quilly’s lookin’ for a date for a date night.”
“Not gonna happen, dude.”
“Not? Why not?”
“Because palm trees don’t grow in the Pacific Northwest, dude. If she wanted a date, she shouldn’t ‘a left Hawaii.”
“Very funny, dude. What about if I want one?”
“With your face? The only way you’re gettin’ a date is at the store, ’cause if the tree got a look at you, it’d shrivel up and die.”
“I’ll just have to hide behind your belly, dude. But hey, there’s two of us. Surely, with our natural advantages, we can find ourselves a couple of chicks who dig baseball.”
“Baseball? I know the season’s just started but …”
“They’d never be able to resist a date night doubleheader.”
“Dude?”
“What?”
“Strike three!”
“Gnarly!”
“Huh?”
“Isn’t that what we’re tryin’ to do here, dude? Get out?“
Hey, if baseball puns mean baseball season, I’m alright with it.
Dawg, the Red Sox have already dropped two to the Yankees. Baseball season is so over … 😉
dates? hmmm… yum!
This was a home run. (That’s the correct sport, right?)
You had me at palm trees. LOL 😀
PS: Hope Quilly found that date!
LOL! So THAT’s where dates come from!