Me to myself: What the fuck?
Rice to Bush: What do you mean they're still shooting each other?
Me to bank account: What the fuck?
Rice to World: Why aren't you all friends already?
Me to non-Starbucks coffee: Why are you so good?
Rice to Middle East: Why are you guys shooting each other?
Me to myself: You know why.
Bush to Rice: Jerry Bruckheimer makes the best documentaries!
Bank account to me: Are you dumping me?
World to Rice: Have you ever studied history?
non-Starbucks coffee to me: Because I am fair trade organic coffee without all that added smug.
Middle East to Rice: This is a millennia long conflict, how the fuck do you expect to achieve a lasting peace in a week after ignoring us for years?
In other news, my wang-fu has reached crisis levels on the internets. House cleaning to come later this week. Expect fulfillment on multiple unresolved escapades including Where's fulsome?
Geez, I admire. I don't even bother asking questions anymore.
I have so many more.
The worst is when I am doing it and someone comes into my office and hears it. I hate that. Especially my assistant who then feels the need to answer them, but not as me, rather as herself.
You complement my wang out loud in your office?
And your assistant feels the need to join in?
How drunk was I that I don't remember these wang events from the trip to Boston?
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