[021] & [005] | OTA

[unsleeved]

Who: Daryl & Everyone, Jesse & Everyone
Where: Here there and everywhere
When: 3/20 - 3/27
Rating: R for language and drug use and whatnot
Summary: Event catchall thingy for both Daryl & Jesse
The Story:

Ha, fooled you, there is totally something under this cut. And that something is a PLEASE SEE COMMENTS notice. Subheadings for different places/times/people (if needed)/etc.

ALSO if anyone has the burning desire to do anything in any of the other areas (with either Daryl or Jesse), hit me up via PM or PP and we can work it out. C:

...OKAY GO!!

Comments

[johnnyblake]

[ OMG, just lay off the dad thing, okay? He hasn't gotten anyone pregnant and he's not about to adopt any punk asses at nineteen. Seriously, though, he's totally a dad. An old dad with his interests primarily focused on taking care of others (even if he pretends otherwise). ]

They're not even food. You can get fried ravioli that's gonna do better'n that. Don't you get bored with that crap? McDonald's and Taco Bell and shit, fff. Rather have a sandwich. Or some waffles.

[ Mmmmm, waffles. ]

[cowhouse]

[I DON'T KNOW BRO arguing about healthy food is tantamount to a birds and the bees speech as far as Jesse's concerned. And he's totally the authority, here. Clearly.

He knows all about great parenting.........]

Who eats Taco Bell? That's not food. And it sure as hell isn't Mexican food. [No, really, he's offended.] Authenticity or bust, yo. ...Or waffles, yeah. Waffles are the shit too.

[johnnyblake]

Yeah. Hell yeah. Waffles are the best.

[ And there's no convincing him otherwise, clearly, because this has been a lifetime obsession. Can't blame a guy for what he likes, right? ]

So, what? Pizza? Or not. 'Cause you can have whatever the Hell you want, but I'm gonna make a goddamn pizza.

[cowhouse]

[N O P E.]

...If you're making a pizza I'm not gonna like say no. [Who can resist pizza when it's there? Not fucking Jesse, that's for sure.

Standing, finally, he stretches, dropping the can haphazardly onto the wood chips as he goes. He'll come back for it later.

...Maybe.] Let's get outta here. Friggin' starving now, thanks for that.

[Blake, the joint he'd smoked half an hour ago... You know. Same thing.

He moves to start toward the mansion, now thoroughly distracted from his vandalism, and reaches into his pocket to look for his cigarettes and lighter.]