Batman: "As you know, the Gotham Bank was robbed yesterday at noon. The criminals got away free and clear because I wasn't on the scene. The crime must be solved, gentlemen, but more importantly, we need to know why I wasn't informed. I think there's a communications breakdown." Alfred: "Sir, I can't see the bat
He: "I need you to write a brief blurb about the project for our web site." Me: "How about, 'An oil-slicked wave of good intentions shattered on the shores of departmental incompetency and overweening egos?'" He: "Not quite what I had in mind." Me: "I'll work on spinning it for you."
Me: "I heard he was arrested once for nude bongo-drumming." She: "Oh really? Where did this take place?" Me: "I'm not sure. I didn't delve into it. The real tragedy, of course, is that he could only beat one drum at a time." She: "I don't know you. Get out! Out of my cube!"
She: "My head is spinning and I have a headache." Me: "Was it from the drinking last night?" She: "No. People are being excessively nice to me 'cause it's my last day. It's making my head hurt!" Me: "I can be indifferent and abrasive the rest of the day." She: "Would you?" Me: "Yeah, whatever."
Me: "I've always liked the word influenza. It has a pretty sound. Almost like a girl's name." She: "What about little edema?" Me: "Awww, you know if I had a girl, I would almost be tempted to name her that...or effluvia. I think effluvia sounds beautiful." She: "It rolls off the tongue." Me: "Ewww. Bad
Me: "How's it going?" She: "I'm awaiting the pending shit storm." Me: "Is that what's brewing on the horizon? Do you expect to be in the middle?" She: "Yeah. I can smell it coming." Me: "Would those be floaters or sinkers?" She: "Both." Me: "Well, shit."
Me: "Who are you over there dissing?" He: "Sarah Brightman. They're playing her." Me: "Why? What do opera singers have against Sarah Brightman?" He: "She sold out." Me: "Hey, a girl's gotta eat..." He: "I suppose, but I'm eating and I haven't sold out!" Me: "...and, if possible, she's gotta eat while wearing diamonds."
The Queen (off camera, drunk): "...penis the size of a horse!..." The Queen (off camera, drunker): "...hung like a horse!...huge tits! huge!..." The Queen (to Me, stroking my arm): "You've got pretty red hair. Pretty, pretty. Oh honey?! Is he with you?" He (to the Queen): "Yes, we're on a date." The Queen (to Me):
He: "They say that deafness is the reason most marriages last." Me: "Oh really?" He: "Yes, the fine hairs in your cochlea start falling out the more they're used. So the more your wife nags you, the less you hear." Me: "The irony being that those hairs then take root on the outside of your
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