My mate Shakespeare and I have a love-hate relationship. I love both Goldie Hawn and Kate Hudson and he straight-out hates Kate. Yes, it’s a very complicated relationship.

In expressing my love for him via text after 30 beers one night, I was met by a request to repeat those fair words to him sober.

I gave it my best shot. I picked up my bacon and egg roll, stared with one eye at the phone and thumbed my love again.

I may have still been beer-lagged at the time, so he became judge and jury over it and objected to the evidence brought before him. A simple three-word text became War and Peace in minutes.

That got my back up. I picked up the barbeque sauce and splattered it all over my roll and stormed a vicious response back to his mocking early morning text messages of morality and man-loving technique.

Not content to just mess with my fragile head, he had to pull Kate into the equation.

“If you want to run with the pack, you like cats, Kate Hudson and BBQ sauce. If you want to stand out, you like dogs, Goldie Hawn and tomato sauce. We would never have worked. I can overlook all the other flaws but what you have on your breakfast roll is too important.”

Now, I’m no expert on love, nor am I good mates with the Hudson/Hawn family (see who’s first, Shakespeare), but having Kate Hudson compared to barbeque sauce is just not on.  After her performance in Nine, she deserves much more than that. I’m not sure what condiment is adequate, but I’ll be damned if it’s barbeque sauce.

Fancy that, a grown man who thinks tomato sauce is the most important ingredient in a relationship. Such tomfoolery.

Next he’ll be saying that Goldie Hawn’s movies are Oscar-worthy or that salt and pepper need to be added to bacon rolls. For that Petey, I take umbrage (again).

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