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I am the worst dinner guest ever.

To try and compete with me is to try and compete with a cloudy winter's day for most gloomy.

You have a better chance at beating the sun in a starring contest!

Try your hand at pitting yourself in a contest of balance against a sturdy tree!

I promise you, the odds are more in your favour for that one!

Heaven help you, I will sit and listen to every single anecdote.

Spill your stories like rivers spill water! Share your every amusing tale with fervour!

Every syllable, every word, every sentence; I will devour them rapaciously.

In my grim and twisted delight I will even ask you questions so that I may understand more your story and leaving you feeling thoroughly the centre of attention.

If I am feeling particularly vile, my questions and interest in what you have to say may leave you feeling the more competent dispenser of exquisite narratives.

The depth of my excrementitious villainy does not stop with story, no no!

I may even seek to go so far as to exclaim in unending delight over the unsurpassed quality of your succor!

Your food will have no rival!

I will demand your recipes!

I will poke and prod you for all of your secrets!

I will share aloud about how the smells and the flavours seem to waltz over the senses with deft skill unseen in even the best dancers!

And when the meal has seen its end, I will declare myself satisfied and unable to eat even the tiniest morsel more.

Until pudding, that is.

When pudding makes its way to the table, I will roll my eyes in contentment and for the first time that evening, wordlessly applaud your efforts!

It does not end there, however!

My putrescence goes so much further than good conversation and food!

The vile corruptness of my being, of which there are no bounds, extends into party games!

Win or lose, you will never find a better partner for a party game, so evil am I!

Should we win, you will find yourself raised high in my praises, and basking in the glory of those beneath you.

Should we lose, it will be done so with humility and grace that none will have any choice but to bashfully reject their victory and acknowledge our exemplary attitudes.

What a wicked House Guest I make!

My detestability very nearly literally bubbles and froths over your evening, marring the joyous occasion!

I would not blame you if you wished to never see me cross the threshold of your home.

If you could go a thousand years and not have a murky disposition, such as mine, sully the beacon of light that is your evening with friends, I would not disagree.

Woe is me!

What scum I am!

Heaven help you and the Lord keep you should I stoop so low as to share with you a joke or two!

The evening at a close and all is said and done, I will reach deep into the bag that is my deplorableness and take firm grasp of the most devilishly evil thing I can think to say and thank you for a lovely evening!

I may even suggest that it not be the last!

Worse yet!

I may even find it within my cold and dying heart to invite you to my own house.

Pray this never happens.

For as terrible a dinner guest as I may be.

A far worse host do I make!
On a bit of a streak tonight, it would seem!

I wrote this originally intending to make a bit of a twist at the end, but then I got swept up in the pure, unadulterated, sarcasm of it and just had a blast.

Here is the link to me reading this piece.

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November 4, 2012
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