I’m sorry, what I meant to say was:
“The orange properties in Monopoly can go fuck themselves with a blowtorch.”
Did I say blowtorch? I meant a big-ass, Shadows-of-the-Empire-caliber flamethrower.
I love a good game of Monopoly, to be honest. My wife whoops my ass almost (ALMOST) every time we play, but it’s fun to have a crack at it.
Until she buys St. James, Tennessee, and New York. Then I’m ready to take a zippo to the board.
I have never EVER been able to obtain the Orange Monopoly. She always gets it, and goes all Trump-like with how fast she puts hotels on each of them.
We’ve had games where I had the properties from Atlantic Avenue all the way to damn Baltic Avenue, and STILL lost because she gets St. James, Tennessee and New York. It’s not even the fact that she gets those properties, it’s that I ALWAYS LAND ON THEM AFTER SHE GETS THEM.
But this weekend is going to be different. Her best friend and her husband are coming to visit this weekend, and we’re damn sure going to play Monopoly, and she’s damn sure NOT going to get her orange meal ticket THIS time.
Why? Because I already burned the property cards. Suck. On. That. 😁
yonkaholic 