Your hat is enormous.
Every hat is hat-sized. Everything is itself-sized.
“No. Some things are bigger on the inside. Your basic Bag of Holding.”
Garcia’s Briefcase of Infinite Felonies.
Nothing. Does your neck tire?
“From the hat?”
And its enormity.
“Move on from the hat.”
It’s very big.
“It must be. A hat is a cape for your head.”
I disagree with your premise.
“Pretend you do.”
I agree with your premise.
“A cape must be at least knee-length, preferably to the mid-calf or ankle. A small cape is not a cape: it’s a backwards lobster bib.”
You have strong feelings on capes.
Noted. How would the world be different if we hadn’t adopted the seven-day week?
“The song Eight Days A Week would make no sense”
“Calendars would be either wider or narrower.”
“God would be confused.”
When to rest?
Shouldn’t confuse God.
“Not that iteration, at least. Old Testament God was a mean fuck. Never baffle bastards.”
Rarely rewarding. Could you keep a small animal friend in your hat?
“Now you’re annoying and I’m getting my boyfriend, who is a dead keyboardist in a Furry costume.”
“HEY, BROTHER! LONG TIME NO SEE!”
“There’s always yelling in this part.”
Brent, what are you doing?
“Grabbing some pussy, brother.”
I hate everything about all of this.