Look at who is at the bottom of my steps. It's him.
Not "him". The "other" him.
Did I forget to mention there were TWO hims?
Oh, he's just visiting my neighbour. He wouldn't DARE come up my steps. He wants me to know.. he's here. But I'm full of garlic and, uh, not available. (garlic burp)
I'm cooking lamb to forget about men.
Braja, just so we're clear, lamb is NOT cow.
My house smells of garlic, roasted lamb, thyme and a buttery bread crumb mixture...who needs men...when there is lamb?
If you could smell my house, you'd want to marry me.
Hell, I want to marry me. But things change fast around here. In 30 seconds I might pull a gun.
Just to shoot the lamb. Not the baby lamb, I mean the intruder.
I would only EVER shoot, the intruder.