hi, i'm bob.
yes, you've mentioned.
and you are?
mildly amused that you managed to survive whilst billions didn't.
no, that's not what i meant.
we live under the same roof now, i just thought i should know your name.
actually, it's ... unimportant.
of course it's important. everyone has to have a name.
how are you going to know if i'm trying to get your attention?
we are quite possibly the only two non-stealthy people left on the entire planet.
i really don't see you failing to attract my attention because you don't know my name as a problem we're likely to encounter ... bob.
see! see how that was so much more impactful because you could direct all your frustration at the person named "bob."
c'mon, what's your name?
it doesn't matter.
talk about grumpy.
ah, i know.
|later that day...||
what up g?
by Lliam Amor, Dan Beeston and the Goatlord.
©2009 Dan Beeston
A rose by any other name would smell just as sweet...
except when freshly manured.
Then it smells more boviney than anything else. However, from cows comes milk and from milk - cheese!
Surely this means that shit roses are awesome.
I'm still at a loss as to why Valentine's day was such an abject failure this year.