“My dad took all the facial hair with him when he died.”
“I never thought of political corruption as buying local, but it’s true…”
“Food should not do that.”
“Do what?”
“What?”
“You said food shouldn’t do that; what did it do?”
“The Charleston.”
“I am pretty sure we’re going to get into a fist fight. I’m just hoping it’s before I’m fifty.”
“If you don’t look like you’ve eaten a human being by the end of the fight, you didn’t do it right.”
“When we’re talking about shitty rock bands from the 70s, I know my stuff.”
“This sounds like a great contest: mail in your names for our sliced pig anus business.”
“Oh, the menus are in Japanese, so you’re going to have to just kind of… guess.”
“Chances are, the first one is ‘play.'”
“He’s got a mood shirt!”
“He’s prone to catatonia.”
“As long as he doesn’t drool on the pages, that’s fine…”
“Well, he’s incapable of drooling…”
“So he’s a music fan, huh?”
“Sure, let’s go with that.”