Holy moly and Sweet Lady Gaga, Amigos. The old woman Slow and Pretty have truly lost it. Seriously.

Two weeks ago I overheard this bizarre conversation between the two persons who are in charge of my well-being at Casa de Canterbury. Warning: exercise caution as you proceed to read.

Pretty: “You know, we’ve always talked about being vegetarians and I think it’s time to try.”

Slow: “Well, yes, I know we’ve always talked about being vegetarians, but why now, brown cow?”

Pretty: “I just watched a video of a cow trying to run away from a slaughterhouse.”

Lengthy silence.

Slow: “I see. Okay. Point taken. It’s time to become vegetarians. No more beef.”

This conversation took place on a Sunday afternoon when the Tennis Channel had an obscure tournament on and neither Slow nor Pretty was interested in it.

The next day was Monday, and here’s how the new diet talk went.

Pretty: “I forgot Monday night is 25-cent shrimp night at Rockaways.”

Slow: “Do vegetarians eat shrimp?”

Pretty: “Hmmmm. I’m not too sure, but we can’t miss 25-cent shrimp night, can we?”

Slow: “Hmmmm. No, I don’t think we can. But I won’t get the hamburger steak with my shrimp like I usually do because I’m a vegetarian.”

So off they went that Monday night to Rockaways as their nouveau vegetarian selves.

Please. Well, after they came home full of fried shrimp, Pretty surfed the internet to see what she could discover about vegetarians and fried shrimp and what do you think she was able to find?

Presbyterians? No. Pescaterians. P-e-s-c-a-t-e-r-i-a-n-s. Apparently these are vegetarians who eat fish. So Β she spelled it out for Slow who was happy to be something that ate fried shrimp without a guilty conscience. Of course, she never wants to break a rule under any circumstances and feels Β guilty if she even lusts about it in her heart so now shrimp was an “allowable.”

Sigh. Shit house mouse. The Red Man has burdens to bear with these two. The next thing you know they’ll be looking for Pescaterian Dog Food. Help – we need our chicken and beef!

Get me outta here, Percy…bacon, bacon, bacon…I dream of bacon. Beware the ides of salmon, Sports Fans.