I’ll give you a hundred dollars if we don’t have to talk about your clothes.
“But I want to! And, honestly, a hundred dollars is nothing to me. My socks cost a grand.”
Your socks cost a grand?
“Each.”
Wow.
“Socks are far more labor-intensive than you’d think. It’s the stretch-to-cling ratio that gets you.”
I’d rather talk about the pandemic.
“And not my shoes? I’d really like to talk about my shoes.”
They look like something a stroke victim who’d only partially regained control of his hands would wear.
“Exactly. This is from Visvim’s 2011 line entitled ‘Gnarled Tree.’ They took inspiration from clothes for disabled people. Velcro and snaps instead of buttons, drawstrings instead of zippers, pants with loose asses so you can fit a diaper under ’em. One of the high points from the House, I believe.”
Uh-huh.
CELL PHONE NOISE
I told you I didn’t wanna talk about your clothes.
“Dick.”
Yeah.
…
“You’re on with John.”
“Hold on, bitch. I gotta tell this motherfucker to suck my dick.”
“Suck my dick, motherfucker. Okay, I’m back.”
“Miles, I told you to stop calling. We’re through. You hurt me too badly. And you also murdered me.”
“We gonna start over I won’t murder you no more.”
“Miles–”
“Less you use the tone of voice you about to use. Then I’ll shoot you right the fuck in your face.”
“–this isn’t going to work out. Neither of us is gay, and you died in 1991.”
“Love finds a way. Grease yourself up.”
DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES NO LONGER DO THAT
“Goddammit.”
Recent Comments