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? fuck off. |
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.
