Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Don’t Send Me No E-Mails, No


“Wow, I didn’t even know that Nigeria had a royal family.”


“Oh, can’t I just play Candy Crush in peace like all the other ladies my age?”

“Please hold for the President.”

“It’s FaceTime. There’s no holding.”

“Hillary, look at me.”


“Look at me, Hillary. Look at this face, damn you. If you were able to pick up on human social cues and facial expressions, you would recognize this face.”


“You’re guessing.”


“Stop it.”


“Why are you like this?”

“If I had received a memo on your facial expression, then I would have had time to digest it and test out a number of reactions.”

“Why would I send you a memo? I’ll just send it straight to Putin and cut out the middleman.”

“I’m doing much better with the computer.”

“The fact that you call it ‘the computer’ detracts from your assertion.”


“Is that AOL? MotherFUCKER!”

“That’s where my e-mails are!”

“Your e-mails are in the Kremlin, woman. Stick to pad and paper. Oh: what the hell did you to Bon Jovi? He called me crying.”

“Mama like.”

“Jesus. Try to keep your hands off Bruce.”

“No promises. We got anyone else in the tank? Gotta keep the momentum going.”

“Maybe. I’ll call you back.”


“Oh, the IRS sent me something.”

“No, they didn’t! Don’t open that!”

“Mr. President, let me call you back.”

“Computer being held hostage again?”

“This keeps happening!”

“We know.”

“You got somebody?”

“Maybe. I’ll call you back. Try not to set anything on fire.”

“Couple songs, c’mon.”



“One song.”





  1. I will donate $5 for every future use of the word jejune..

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.