origins...

Then there is Jowls... a nickname of course for the man who is becoming more alcoholic with each day, and his jowls drip and dip with each new pint of ale. Each day he starts to drink earlier and earlier.

Dad, can you please part my sandwich?

Yes, and can you please cut my fart?

But back to the woman. I merely asked, in the fashion of dt, if anyone had a comadre for me. Not one who was left at the altar 30 years ago and has never left her house since. It was a joke. I was not serious. Then you asked dt if he had found someone or not. he said of course not and went into detail about the lack of femininity of some such wench.

she responded with we don't know many people; we don't have comadres...

Not even at church?

Maybe she had an ulterior motive which at the time I failed to understand. it is another fantasy, but blame dt.