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C’mon, buddy: you’re killing me with that thing.

“Y’know: it’s my frailty or, um, deviation–as it were–and it doesn’t get on my tits, man. Whaddya got against it?”

It’s a symbol of life’s intrinsic chaos and the unknowability of the future.

“Huh.”

Your nubbin is the opposite of the actor’s smirk to let us, the audience, know it was all just fun. That thingy reminds us with every chord that even though it’s just a game, life plays for keeps. Wins and losses get tallied.

“You’ve thought about this.

Apparently so.

“What do Bobby’s thighs represent?”

Are you seriously asking? Because the answer takes about an hour and I need to teach you Sanskrit.

“Yeah, I died twenty years ago: I got time.”