I'm late, I know. I just got a text from Chestnut. "Where are you? I'm wearing my best suit." He spelled suit with a four, but that's pretty good for a horse. I have a good reason. 15 chicken pot pies. Regular price: $1.47. Coupon price: Free! Cause I bought 15 and used the double coupon in-store sale combo. Listen to me with the lingo already. Reminds me of my first day interning on Wall Street. Chicken pot pies? You don't even like them. What does it matter if I like them or not? They were free. It's free money. Who doesn't like free money? I don't know about free money, but this is like watching someone free base for the first time. Chestnut's fine. It's not a big deal. Ooh, oh, I just got another text from Chestnut. "I'm so lonely, I just tried smoking." We can go tomorrow. In the Lifetime movie version, we just missed the day we were appointed by the court, and Chestnut's new parents move him out of town. And we cry. I get it, it's just that after last night, I woke up fascinated by the concept of coupons. So I did some research. I found this woman online who calls herself the Williamsburg Coupon Queen. Only she calls them "Cue-pons." Is that the correct way to pronounce it? Eh, I'm gonna go with her way after all, she is the queen. Canned pumpkin? Ten cans, double coupon, five cents each. Great, cause I'm always lying in bed at night thinking I wish I could crack open a can of pumpkin. Oh, and I found a coupon for you to send your mom an edible arrangement for her birthday. A pretty pineapple daisy says so much more than cash in a card. And it's for 40% off the regular price. That's perfect because my mom was 40% off a regular mom. And Max, I do have something else for you in this bag. Something that'll make you very happy. Canned yams for when I get tired of canned pumpkin? Better, look. Look out, Han Lee. I'm about to get my tamp on.