Let Uncle Brill Weave Tell You a Story

[Brill Weave]

Gather round children. I shall regale you with a tale of lost loves, betrayal, righteous vengeance, and ultimately, redemption.

Our tale brings us to the eve of December 31st. The sea was angry that day my friends. The sky was dark and not a sound could be heard through the streets of rustic Millvale Pennsylvania. As my wife and I were preparing our home for the coming storm that would soon approach as the eve came all too soon.

We safely tucked away all of our precious glass sundries in a futile attempt to Scotty proof our home. As we had just retired for a few minutes respite, what occurs? The telephone rings with Gentle Ben on the other end.

To what do we owe this phonecall? A lovely call wishing good tidings for the upcoming year? Nay gentle reader, a seemingly innocent inquiry from Gentle Ben. Would we like him to stop along his long trek to our humble abode and pick up any long forgotten items that we would need? I peered outside and watched the snow fall, prudence took hold of me as I asked Gentle Ben to pick up a bag of rock salt to clear the path of the many weary travelers who would be visiting our homestead on this, this New Year's Eve.

Who knew that ye olde bag of rock salt could cause such insolence and heartache.

As the slow trickle of travelers gradually turned into a steady flow, Gentle Ben, Scotty, Annie, Brian, and Cassie all wearily made their way into the house. I thanked Gentle Ben for his kind offer to retrieve the rock salt that would be put to good use on that cold night.

The group of cold travelers made their way into the kitchen to receive a plentiful helping of kielbasa, meatballs, Magic Hat ale, and buffalo chicken dip that Gentle Ben had so generously offered to make. But what's this? Has some trickster somehow made his way into our lodgings? The crockpot is only half full. Gentle Ben had only made enough dip for a small handful of revelers.

Not to fear, as my wife is resourceful. Planning on Gentle Ben's inability to follow through, she had made the long five minute trek to the local general store and purchased the ingredients to prepare her own buffalo chicken dip. So as the revelry continued, my wife stood at the stove, hard at work.

As the evening progressed the merriment grew louder, the drinks flowed freely. As our comrade Metro Andy crooned emo ballads by the well known bards titled AFI upon our dusty well traveled copy of Rock band 2, the mood understandably grew tense.

A loud crash interrupted my enjoyment of Maps as I turn to see Brian and Gentle Ben engaged in mock fisticuffs upon my kitchen floor. Quickly, due to their ale driven fury, the donnybrook descended to floor, along with several drinks.

Not unused to the fallout of their kindhearted fracas, I retrieved my towel and began the arduous task of cleaning the spill. The night continues as Gentle Ben continues to imbibe. Several spills later after we count down the entrance of the New Year, Gentle Ben and Annie take their leave of us and stumble off to the spare bedroom.

Free to now sleep off their general malaise, these weary travelers had forgotten one thing. Their means of conveyance were required to deliver Brian and Cassie to their homestead. Being the kind host that I am, I volunteer to take that home as the nighttime hours wane.

Upon returning home, I find my wife engaged with Scotty in an odd political conversation. The kind that I had no desire contributing to or being present to listen in to. I take my leave and head off to my bed, patiently waiting for my wife to return so that I can properly ring in her new year.

After our well deserved slumber, we awake to find Gentle Ben, Annie, and Scotty gone. But not all is well in our happy home today. Something is amiss. The buffalo chicken dip is now missing. Taken by bandits desperate for sustenance? Could it have been thrown away in error the previous night?

Nay, my friends. Twas none other than Gentle Ben who made off with the culmination of my wife's hard work. He had pilfered our buffalo chicken dip. My wife, in her understandable rage, telephoned Gentle Ben and demanded he returned what he had unrightfully taken.

With his assurances that he would return the dip, we gladly left the matter forgotten as we settled down in front of the hearth for a nice quiet day. The rest of the day passed without event as we retired for the evening as we both were required to work on the morrow.

But what is this incessant racket that has roused us both from our slumber? As I wipe the sleep from my eyes to gaze upon the clock, I realize it is 2:30. The ringing in my ears? An alert that a text message had been sent to my now, furious wife. The contents you ask? The contents, my friends, were two words that drove my wife to fury and drove me to a sleepless night. "Good Dip."

Yes my friends, Gentle Ben had done the unthinkable. He had partaken in the forbidden dip. And then taunted my wife his with his ale fueled words.

As I made the quiet drive to work I slowly became more and more angry. Was this the Gentle Ben who spilled his ale all over our kitchen? The same one who had engaged in mock fisticuffs with Brian just the night before?

Throughout the day I gauged the level of anger my wife now carried in the sporadic emails she sent me. Surely Gentle Ben would rue the day he had crossed my wife. To him, it was dip, to my lovely wife it was the betrayal, the bold lies, and the ill thought out gloating that followed.

Gentle Ben made the wise decision of avoiding my wife's angry summons. But he did not expect me to call him. As he grumbled on the phone, mumbling out less than heartfelt apology I implored him to do the right thing and apologize. I explained to him with a slight tremor of rage in my voice, that no man shall ever treat my beloved this way. Certainly not a man who owes us four hundred dollars so he could take his classes to finally become a full fledged member of the elevator guild.

The night passed with no phonecall to my wife. Surely Gentle Ben has not reneged on his oath of making an apology. Surely he did not forget the underlying tone of future fisticuffs involving he and I.

Lo and behold gentle readers, an email awaits my perusing as I log in at work. Gentle Ben explains that he is not at fault. For what reason has Gentle Ben justified his base villainy? The reasons escape me, but to Gentle Ben they are crystal clear. He, in his festive mood, had brought along the kielbasa that Cassie had requested he bring.

And he brought the rock salt. And now I await further word from my beloved regarding Gentle Ben's fate. We have admonished him and are now insisting upon the return of our precious money by the end of the month.

This, my friends, is my story of how rock salt ruined New Year's.






Long story short, fuckhead made a tiny bit of dip, stole my wife's the next morning and doesn't understand why she's angry after he promised to return it then ate it when he was fucking hammered. His reason is because he brought rock salt.

[Howard Roark]

Stealing my Beloved's dip? oh you better believe that's a paddlin'

http://www.blogdelossimpson.com.ar/w...06/jasper2.gif

[Shuemue]

He's right, it's just fucking dip, he was considerate enough to call and bring rock salt.

Go smack your wife and tell that bitch if she'd done as God intended and had her lazy ass in the kitchen beforehand, none of this would have happened.

[Brill Weave]

Well in his defense I agree that it's just dip. As much as I love the guy he really does take adavantage of all of his friends. He's essentially a functioning alcoholic. He mooches all his beer off my best friends Brian and Cassie. He has owed us a little over four hundred dollars for over six months. At the time he borrowed over seven hundred dollars of our wedding money to pay for his classes for his job. In the time he has had to pay us back he bought a new HDTV, an Xbox 360, controller, and a handful of games.

When it comes to the dip, it's usually the first thing everyone eats. He literally had one of those tiny crockpots that are the circumference of a quart of milk filled halfway with the dip. We had over 30 people there. It was gone in about five minutes.

It's basically the culmination of his drunk ass antics, the fact he felt some sense of entitlement despite the fact he owes us money, and the fact that he woke us up in the middle of the night just to fucking gloat.

This shit isn't cheap either. It costs us about forty dollars to make one big crockpot full of the shit. My wife spent almost two hundred dollars on food for the party not including all the booze that I bought. It's pretty fucking jewish to go and take something from someone else's home regardless of what you brought. That's like me bringing garbage bags and taking a case of beer in return lol.

[oldoldman]

Reading the summary, I see no reason to read the whole thing. That is not worth holding a grudge over.

[Shuemue]

Here's the thing, your dumb wife made too much and he took the leftovers. Who cares?

[Shuemue]

Go smack your wife and tell that bitch if she'd done as God intended and had her lazy ass in the kitchen beforehand, none of this would have happened.

Also I quoted this word for word to my girlfriend and she said, "Exactly."

[Headspace]

Fisticuffs.

[Brill Weave]

For us it's kind of the principle of the thing. It's kind of like the straw that broke the camel's back to be honest. None of us call him on his shit when he's drunk. We never give him a hard time the next day. It's easy to comment on it here. But if you would actually see the shit the guy does, it may make you think twice. Regardless I do agree that it's a fucking retarded reason to start a fight.

[Seraph]

For us it's kind of the principle of the thing. It's kind of like the straw that broke the camel's back to be honest. None of us call him on his shit when he's drunk. We never give him a hard time the next day. It's easy to comment on it here. But if you would actually see the shit the guy does, it may make you think twice. Regardless I do agree that it's a fucking retarded reason to start a fight.

If he is such a shithead, why do you still invite him to parties?

[Brill Weave]

You ever have that one friend who you have known forever and just seems to have changed seemingly overnight? He's that guy to all of us. We're hoping one day he just turns back into the guy we all knew and got along with. We don't want to cut him loose because we do have loyalty towards him. But he's getting to the point where none of us want to be involved with him anymore.

[Tyche]

Did he take your (your wife's) dish with him when he took the dip? I'd only fault him for not asking and then sending the text message. That text was uncalled for, but I wouldn't blow it up too much.

[MrW]

We used to have a friend like that. he was a damn vulture. Always would come out with us and "realized" he didn't have money after he ate his food/drink/etc. We just stopped inviting him. Good luck getting your money back. I'd chalk it up as a loss and just prevent it from happening in the future.

[Tyche]

You should also post the recipe for this $40 buffalo chicken dip. Sounds good.

[Brill Weave]

Yeah he took everything. And perhaps I should clarify. He took the entire crockpot pan filled with the leftovers, which weighed about four or five pounds. The whole thing with the money wouldn't nearly as insulting if he didn't just buy a tv/xbox/games etc. But on the amusing side I told my wife don't lend him the money, we'll never see it again. So at least I get to say I told you so.

[Brill Weave]

I'll email my wife for the recipe Tyche lol.

[tyven]

magic hat is the shit

[Brill Weave]

I don't drink anymore Tyven. But I still maintain my taste in beer. We had cases of Magic hat and Red Rocket. And some Pabst for sentimental purposes lol. Not to mention the fuckload of liquor I had laying around. And someone still drank the three Busch beers way in the back of the refrigerator if you can believe that lol. We keep them there for when her father comes over to work on the house nextdoor(he's helping us completely restore it.)

[Kael]

This is what you do.

Next time you have a party. You invite him. Put your wife incharge of getting the drinks for your guests. She only offers him water or sodas or some shit or she tells him you ran out. You offer to make another liquor run and ask him what he would like. You go out and pick up whatever he desired. Then come back, and drink it in front of him, and then explain that since you had to drive out to go get it. You should be compensated and offer him another soda.

:3

[Brill Weave]

^Nice lol.

Tyche here's the recipe by the way.

3 10 Ounce can of chicken chunks(I do not suggest getting the real cheap chicken, it tastes kind of funky when everything is mixed together.) Drain the chicken juice.
3 8 Ounce packages of cream cheese
1-1 1/2 cups of Ranch dressing(depends on the person if you want more or not)
1 cup of Franks Red Hot sauce
5 cups of shredded cheddar jack and/or mozzarella cheese

Heat the chicken and red hot sauce in pot on stove. Mix so all chicken is covered. Add in the cream cheese. Stir until cream cheese melts a good bit. Then add all of he cheese in. You can add in the cheese at the same time as the cream cheese but I've found it's easier to stir the cheese without it getting stuck in the cream cheese chunks that are left still.

Heat all the ingredients until everything is mostly melted. It's ok if the cheese isn't melted all the way. Transfer everything into the crock pot and let it sit for about a half hour at the most and you're golden.

We usually serve it with celery sticks, tortilla chips, and those ritz crackers with the scoops in them.