on the blog

it’s a burrito

Today’s post was written by a very talented guest-blogger.  You know him as Peter DeWolf, or “that goofy adorable Canuck”.  I know him as the guy who kicked my ass in fantasy football last season and the guy who is doing much better at producing posts for my blog than I am!  Enjoy!

“It’s never going to fit,” she says, well aware of how dramatically it came out.

“Sure it will,” he replies, his eyes never leaving the football game.

“You’re not even looking.”

He glances over quickly, with just his eyes, and then back to the giant flat screen tv.

“It’ll fit.  You’re just not doing it right,” he says.

“Come show me how,” she smiles.

He hops up.

“Fiiiiiiine.  That play is under review anyway.”

He looks at the clothes.  He looks at the suitcase.  He strokes his chin.

“You need to roll your clothes,” he declares.

“Is that so?”

“It is so.”

She stares at him.  She bats her eyes.

“Need some Visine?” he asks.

“Maybe if you roll one piece to show me how?”

“But… But the game…”

“You’re so fast and talented that you’ll have it all finished before the game comes back on.”

He rolls his eyes, as he picks up the suitcase and dumps everything out.

“You’re taking my FoxyBingo.com t-shirt?”

“Yeah.  I like sleeping in it.  It makes me feel like you’re there.”

“Oh crap.  That’s annoyingly sweet.  I’ll roll two things,” he says.

“My hero.”

He takes a pair of skinny jeans and rolls them tightly, as he hates himself a little for knowing that they’re skinny jeans.  He places them gently in the suitcase.

He grabs a cardigan and begins rolling.

“You have to roll it like… those Mexican things that you make fun of me for having never tried before even though I’m Canadian,” he explains.

“You’re doing sooo well,” she says, taking a handful of the fries he left on the bedside table.

He shakes his head.

“It’s good that you got me to do this.  I’m going to show you have packing is done.”

He rolls.  He places.  He rolls.  He places.  And so on, until everything is rolled.

He stares down at the suitcase.

She walks over and stands next to him.

She stares down at the suitcase too.

“They don’t fit, do they?” she asks.

“No.  They don’t.”

“Hmm,” she says.

“I’ll buy you a bigger suitcase and give you a backrub if we never discuss this again.”


“You ate all of my fries, didn’t you?”

“*Buuuuurp*  Maybe.”

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