“Things are fuzzy.”
I think it’s the picture.
“Sure, sure. You know the Tylenols up here got codeine in ’em?
I did know that.
“I had no idea, but when I found out, I decided to have a headache.”
“You know it.”
Who’s the rando?
That’s what makes ’em randos.
“Yeah. Right. His beard is tiny.”
What just happened?
“I think we got a rando glitch.”
You’ve seen this before?
“Well, you know: randos pop in and out of existence. It’s a probability thing.”
“Oh, yeah. Quantum physics is the only thing that explains rando behavior.”
“Did you know that you can measure a rando’s location or speed, but not both?”
Lemme interrupt your madness: ask that guy for his necklace.
“He’d give it to me.”
JESUS! It happened again!
“I told ya, man: reality’s a flipbook and the pages get mixed-up sometimes.”
That’s really nice, Bobby.
“Sure, sure. Is this Elvis Costello?”
Barely even looks like him.
“Well, between you and me? All Canadians look alike.”
It’s not racist if it’s true.
“You said it. Hey, where’d all these pictures come from?”
The only fun thing about 2016 is that whenever you guys go anywhere, you leave a wake of pictures with randos on the innertubes.
“Gotta get with the time. Hashtag.”
You know what that means?
Good talk, Bob.