The non-ideal couple. She, smoking hot. He, frigid, tense and impotent.
The middle-aged man, was so damn tired, he nodded off, and his face landed on the plate of scrambled eggs he had just started eating, with the rest of the diners, watching with smiles and laughter.
He claims he is a wise man, yet he speaks utter nonsense.
The happy man is spreading good cheer with happy dust.
Willie and Wilma are at the kitchen table, drinking day-old brewed coffee, and both are wondering why it tastes like shit.
She’s dreamy eyed, and tongue tied.
Wearing his favorite Space Cadet pajamas, he watches TV in his favorite chair, and mumbles away to himself.