Legacy

She: "She's a fine little Widget." Me: "How can you tell?" She: "She's instantly forgetable, doesn't ruffle any feathers and gives off a bland vibe. Plus she's square-shaped." Me: "So she can fit into those square holes? Doesn't she realize it's an oblong world?" She: "That's the tragedy of a Widget. They're manufactured and unable

Our hero, caught deep within the clenched bowels of bureaucracy, desperately sought to make it through the endless conference call. Files were shuffled, meaningful dialog was attempted, and there was a glimmer of hope that the meeting would end. She could almost revel in the prospect of a schedule-free afternoon. The end of the agenda

She: "Lots and lots of eye candy there." Me: "And, yum, candy tastes good." She: "Yours tasted good. Mine was sitting on the back shelf getting old and stale." Me: "No way! I saw you trying that candy." She: "Sure, I peeked under the wrapper. Stale, stale candy."

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."