I was listening to Sirius XM radio yesterday, and "Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is" by Chicago came on. I said, "It's 3:19." No response. No "thank you" or "I appreciate it." Nothing.
An old man shuffled slowly into the ice cream parlor and pulled himself painfully up onto a stool. After catching his breath, he ordered a banana split. The waitress goes, "crushed nuts?" "No, no, no" he said. "Arthritis."
I can relate to the Johnny Depp/Amber Heard defamation trial. Sort of. I dreamt an old girlfriend chased me around the bed with a machete after eating a box of Ex-Lax.