Oh boy

[Torque’sHeadBump]

What the hell is going on with Joseph? Is it compulsory to look like a mouth-breathing tard?

Why do boomers always have to put their obnoxious water bottles on the table?

Also, AntH’s face here is fawkin’ rib destroying.

Warren, eat some fucking vegetables, you queer!

 

[Gronez_Bambatta]

This Last Supper was brought to you by CostCo

 

[RoTheHo69]

This Last Supper was brought to you by CostCo

The last tupper

 

[The Talking Dead]

Ribs at Layla being surrounded by all those old fucks.

Also Missy there being sandwiched by Ant and Joe. You just know that bitch is biding her time until nana inevitably croaks and she gets to cash in. Her, Joe and Dawn will definitely be locked in a bitter three way battle to get the lion's share of Ant's money when the time comes.

 

[Camel Clutch]

who posted this? brother joe has been quiet on facebook lately.

 

[The Arm]

Faggot Warren can't help but look like a faggot.

 

[Dennyislife]

My food is dry.

Where the fuck is the gravy and roast potatoes.

 

[Steve Ramone]

Joe legit looks like he has cancer. Good.

 

[Jizz]

brother joe is probably on that ozempic drug since he has diabetes. he's starting to look like a terminal AIDS patient!

 

[Ladynyahh]

Why do boomers always have to put their obnoxious water bottles on the table?

Fawk, never noticed that before. Why can't they use a fawkin glass? It's enraging!

 

[Ladynyahh]

Joe legit looks like he has cancer. Good.

I thought something was off about Joe in that other picture of that collection of winners at the poker table (the one where Nana is sipping on a ginger ale instead of Bud Light). He's got an ashen look to his skin. Wonder what's going on there ... speculate speculate

 

[Ha Ha Ha Holeee Shit!]

My food is dry.

Where the fuck is the gravy and roast potatoes.

We don’t have gravy, but I’ll pass you the child spit cousin Joe brung over.

 

[TomFromNawlins]

View attachment 166922

What the hell is going on with Joseph? Is it compulsory to look like a mouth-breathing tard?

Why do boomers always have to put their obnoxious water bottles on the table?

Also, AntH’s face here is fawkin’ rib destroying.

Warren, eat some fucking vegetables, you queer!

I’ve never seen anyone from any age group using water bottles like those at the dinner table, especially a holiday dinner. What is wrong with these people?

 

[Ha Ha Ha Holeee Shit!]

I thought something was off about Joe in that other picture of that collection of winners at the poker table (the one where Nana is sipping on a ginger ale instead of Bud Light). He's got an ashen look to his skin. Wonder what's going on there ... speculate speculate

He shaved off his facial hair which makes him look worse for wear. I also think the stress of having Nana there 24/7 coupled with financial reality kicking in are doing a number on the old cow.

 

[Torque’sHeadBump]

who posted this? brother joe has been quiet on facebook lately.

Dawn

 

[Gronez_Bambatta]

I’ve never seen anyone from any age group using water bottles like those at the dinner table, especially a holiday dinner. What is wrong with these people?

They're not people.

 

[Petworth dude]

It’s a shame no Redditors texted Joe during Thanksgiving

 

[Slackjawed Cow]

I’ve never seen anyone from any age group using water bottles like those at the dinner table, especially a holiday dinner. What is wrong with these people?

Whoever is hosting clearly didnt want any part in doing dishes after dinner or as little as possible. Plus water is healthier when you drink it out of a sport bottle.

 

[Coonskin]

Joe looks worse than Anthony

 

[Ha Ha Ha Holeee Shit!]

Whoever is hosting clearly didnt want any part in doing dishes after dinner or as little as possible. Plus water is healthier when you drink it out of a sport bottle.

They are drinking Bud Lights out of those sports bottles. They didn’t want to tempt dear Nana.

As for the dishes, I don’t blame Aunt Fran for busting out the plastic wear. She has to put up with all the Cumia’s at once. I’ll cut her slack on the clean-up.