Category Archives: Whimsical

Listing To The Middle

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Make fun of my stack of index cards I always carry? Look at this totally legit “Coupon” I’m gonna use at Guido’s Pizza.

The young cashier got a huge kick out of the coupone when I handed it to her at the register. She went to the back to prank the kitchen staff. She proudly kept it.

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“No, it’s none of your business why I want a dozen of these.”
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I submitted my concealed carry gun permit application. Because it didn’t have my category, I scribbled in “Glue Gun.”

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Iguess holding up a $3 bottle of Oakleaf wine at Walmart market and shouting, “I’ve got supper!” is somehow not a good idea?

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There are times when I catch myself forgetting how nice it is to be able to communicate in another language. English is a bastard of a language and I pity anyone trying to feel comfortable with it as a second language.

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If it is one thing I’ve learned the hard way that I can’t count on, it is an abacus.

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Bad news: my neighbor’s new pet Rhesus monkey died during an explosion.

Good news: now there’s enough Rhesus Pieces to give out to the kids on Halloween.

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Today is a day when I truly need Shoresy to accompany me as I encounter the rash of degens in my path.

P.S. If you don’t know who Shoresy is, you have my sympathy, loser.

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Another deconstructed social media post…

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A bit of foolishness, a bit of satire…

If you suffer from GSS, please accept my non-apology.

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“Thumbless people have no middle finger” is both true and deeper than the words themselves belie.

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The market is getting too specialized. Now they’re identifying foods by the hour of consumption.

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Nuance

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Your Monday options: will you be Malachi or Isaac today? Regardless of where you work, I suspect you might think you too are in a dangerous cult, led by madmen.

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Do you call them “buffet pants” or “comfy pants?” Or “fat pants?”

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“Forever Box” is my new favorite word for coffin.
And people say I can’t learn anything from the internet.

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Last night at supper, I inevitably did my artwork with index cards, markers, and the tools around me. Thus was born “Shredded Cheddar President.”

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Box fan from home.
Check.
Full set of pillows from home.
Check.
Two individual comforters from home.
Check.
I pity everyone else in the hotel.
Savages!

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According to my manager, I should not refer to my workplace as “The Badlands.”

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*Content warning: I love mocking positivity memes and clichés. My version expresses a greater truth, one rarely voiced by our great poets, yet still affecting us all.

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Last week, my friend Josh invited me to his church. “It’s right up your alley, X. We do things differently.”

At 10:05, I entered a bit late. Josh was already seated up front. I nervously walked past all the congregants. An unusual, high-pitched sound filled the air. I was too distracted by my lateness to figure out what was afoot.

I sat next to Josh on the second row. “Sorry I’m late,” I whispered.

I soon figured out what the noise was when I entered.

The pastor looked across the pews and said, “If everyone will get out their Humnals, we’ll hum #456.”

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“The more violent the sport, the sexier that those on the sidelines dress. Which means politicians should be wearing negligees.” – X

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Halloween Might Come Early

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I’m not generally a “Get off my lawn” sort of old person. I didn’t know that my neighbor was out of state until today when he wrote to me and asked me to do him a favor. Around 7:45 tonight, a ruckus outside drew my attention. A herd of younger kids was on our lawns, climbing over our vehicles, and generally misbehaving. I tried to be as cool as a 50+ person can be. I spoke to them in English, Spanish, and a bit of Marshallese, to ask them to be considerate and to be as loud as they wanted in the street or on the sidewalks. I felt old, though, doing the job that the parents of those kids should be doing. I know how this game is played and the adults always lose.

I guess I’m going to need to get out my Halloween mask and scare the absolute #$%! out of some kids as the October nights come early.

If my neighbor installs a camera, I hope the footage of the trespassing kids shrieking for their lives as I jump out from the dark keeps us warm at night – if not laughing.

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I made this just to amuse myself…

 

 

These new Gatorade flavors are crazy. I wondered why Agua de Calzon tasted so weird.

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Because I was in an unusual area, I used a different phone to call someone at work. I usually try to prank the person I call and this time I used a bizarre Chinese accent. Unfortunately, someone else answered the phone so I had to persist with the crazy accent until I burst out laughing. Lucky for me, he decided it was hilarious.

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My idea of creating a museum for the most famous arsonists was rejected by the Library of Congress. I was going to call it the “Hall of Flame.”

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The last time I entered a Tractor Supply store, one of the employees yelled, “Just NO!” and ran me out. I guess it didn’t help that I was wearing a rainbow-colored Carhartt jacket.

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*In deference to the new bicycle rules allowing non-stops, the legislature recently decided that as long as you yell “Speed Bump!” when you hit a pedestrian, you will not be charged with a crime.

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Because of the professional shots I mentioned last week, my agent called and told me I got a small part in the upcoming sequel “The Fat And Furious.”

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My inquisitive cat Güino recently ate about 50% of my craft supplies. Now he goes to the bathroom in a glitterbox.

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I’m just letting everyone know that I’m going to start sneaking up on people and throwing pies at them. I’ll probably scream, “Pie Felicia!” too.

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I’m going to see if I can infiltrate another high school reunion page from the 80s using the name Steff Leopard.

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I got arrested on Suspicion of Felonious Activity. I put 64 psi in all the tires of the police vehicles parked on Spring Street. The charges are inflated.

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It’s not my joke, but the guy who said, “Mashed potatoes should be called Irish Guacamole” is a genius.

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My wife berated me for spending $750 for the photographer and headshots. A talent agency just hired me for my first job. I don’t know what they mean by playing the role of “Before,” but I’m excited.

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Since it was deleted off a post:
“I’m interested in Phil’s opinion on this.” – from the book, “Said No One Ever.”

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In a conciliatory effort of dubious friendship, I offered him the opportunity to travel to anywhere in the world, one way.

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I wish Vegas would give odds on more realistic possibilities.

For example, what are the odds on me saying, “That’s some bullsh%t right there,” before 7 a.m.?

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*True story….

I brought Dawn for a colonoscopy. At our age, it’s the equivalent of a night out.

We arrived early, of course.

“I wonder if they’re running behind? Dawn asked.

“No, I think they’re running behinds.”

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“Sir, you can’t bomb Ohio,” the General said.

“Okay, we’ll bomb Arkansas,” the President replied.

The General replied, “Haven’t the residents of Arkansas suffered enough?”

“Evidently not, General, or they wouldn’t still be there,” the President insisted.

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*In deference to the new bicycle rules allowing non-stops, the legislature recently decided that as long as you yell “Speed Bump!” when you hit a pedestrian, you will not be charged with a crime.

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Because of the professional shots I mentioned last week, my agent called and told me I got a small part in the upcoming sequel “The Fat And Furious.”

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My inquisitive cat Güino recently ate about 50% of my craft supplies. Now he goes to the bathroom in a glitterbox.

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Dawn and I both had eye appointments today at Arkansas Eye Care.

We walked in and the optometrist Dr. Bell looked at Dawn and said, “You’re definitely.going to fail your eye exam.”

Surprised, Dawn said, “Wow, how can you tell? Are my glasses that thick?”

The optometrist shook his head ‘no,’ and simply turned and pointed at me.

I don’t know where he got the mic but he dropped it and walked away laughing.

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Falling down is the one skill which requires no refresher course. – Old Age Wisdom

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I took a day off at my job designing calendars.

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My supervisor walked up unannounced.

“What are you doing?” he asked, in a demanding sort of way.

“Finishing my voodoo doll.”

“That doll bears a resemblance to me,” he said.

“Yeah, thanks. I’ve been working hard on getting it just right.”

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The doctor told me I have a strange addiction to brake fluid, despite the health risks of ingestion. He’s a nut. I can stop anytime.

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“The ditch is never deep enough for the man not holding the shovel.”

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“A lot more Narnia and a little less statehouse.”

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My managers weren’t amused when I sent in a recommendation letter to “World Traveler” magazine, requesting that the cafeteria where I work be added to its “Near-Death Experience” list.

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“Only a drunk person would offer to proofread your writing, X.”

“In that case, I’ll hire a 90-proofreader,” I replied.

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The more time I spent online, the more often I had to use the restroom. I have fiber internet.

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I kept wondering why all the websites were so negative. It turns out that I accidentally connected to an infernal network.

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Momentary Humanity

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As I drove home, I did my best to expunge the workday from my thoughts. So much of my day had been packed with banal, lifeless exchanges. I listened in fascination as Janet Mock talked about her early life in an interview on NPR. On a whim, I quickly turned into the drive of a convenience store.

I entered the convenience store to fulfill one of modern man’s biggest follies: buy lottery tickets. Ahead of me, a young black man was struggling with a pre-loaded card and a card swipe in an attempt to buy gas. I conducted my business with the pleasant cashier and stepped to the left. Another couple of customers finished their purchases and I stepped over to the other side as I pulled out my wallet to stuff the new ticket into its confines.

“I’m so sorry to waste your time. Thank you,” the young man told the clerk. She smiled and said, “No problem. Have a good day.” The look on his face was one I well recognized. He probably didn’t have enough gas to get much of anywhere.

I watched as he peered through the window at his tall friend outside. He was standing between the pumps and a tan Oldsmobile, waiting for the pump to authorize the gas. The man inside the store stopped as I held up my hand and said, “Wait.” Expecting something even more upsetting, his eyes looked up at mine. I handed him the cash from my wallet and said, “Didn’t you say you need some gas?”  He looked at the money, then back at me. “Thanks, sir. Jeez. I don’t know what to say.” Because I’m a master of wit and conversation, I told him, “Have a great afternoon.” He turned back toward the cashier, a smile spreading across his face.

I went outside, got inside my car, and turned on the ignition as a blast of cold air hit my face and the sound of Terry Gross delving back into the life of Janet Mock.

Although I usually don’t stick around to witness the aftermath of my moments, I looked down at my phone until the man inside the store had exited. I then watched him using my mirrors. He excitedly held his hands up and shouted something to his friend at the pumps. While I couldn’t quite discern the words, his glee was apparent.

I drove away, leaving the man’s story behind me.

In return, my heart was lighter, my day forgotten.

 

 

 

A Misplaced Adverb

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My Dashboard Dinosaur has brought me great luck. I can’t say as much for whoever was previously inside that police outline in my driveway.

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Best opening line for a play or book: “He ran through the door as if it weren’t closed.”

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I think “Scream Door” is a better name than Screen Door, because if a child lets it slam, there will certainly be screaming.  #newword

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I hit a deer this morning. He had no defense against either a left hook or right jab.

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Because I’m dedicated to the aggressive abolition of all popular card games, the FBI has nicknamed me the Unobomber.

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My favorite radio station’s programming manager is being charged with arson. Luke Bryan’s “singing” burned my ears so badly that I can’t hear a word my wife is saying.

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A woman was being brutally mean. It was the relentless and unredeeming kind of anger manifested as a non-stop verbal attack. I’m not proud of repaying her cruelty in kind. But I am pleased with my quick reply. I’d ignored at least twenty bouts of vileness.

When she continued to belittle and berate, I held up a hand. “We have more in common than not. We have a common enemy.”

Momentarily confused, she said, “Oh yeah? Who’s that?”

“Based on preliminary study, I’d say it’s a three-way tie between french fries, the delusion that people care what we say, and the inability to shut up.”

Epilogue: she’s REALLY mad now, with the benefit that she’ll be silent in my direction for quite a while.

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It was only after a surprise trip to Germany did Ralph Wiedersehen realize why his friends of German origin laughed each time they said goodbye to him.

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“Ask your doctor if dying due to lack of health insurance is right for you.” – Advertisement

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I nicknamed my management team “AC,” because evidently they are powered by 120 dolts.

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I found a snake in the garage.

“Can you identify it?” my wife asked.

“I don’t need to – it has a driver’s license,” I replied.

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“Stop paying full price,” the sign said. So I ran like hell.

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People are interested in how I learned Spanish until I tell them, “Large doses of LSD.” It won’t work for everyone, sure, but no one will notice what language you’re speaking when your pants are made out of banana peels.

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I wrote the best joke ever written a few minutes ago.
This isn’t the joke.
This is the tribute.

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A Mixed Bag

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My cat Güino took umbrage with the fact that Dawn impugned his character this afternoon. Per the left picture, my wife Dawn noted on my chalkboard that I shouldn’t wake ‘the monster.’ When I opened the door this afternoon, Mr. Monster had already jumped up to warmly greet me. As you can clearly see in the right picture, Güino then proceeded to explain why Dawn’s comments were libelous. “Incredulous” best describes his level of chagrin with the mistress of the house. The cat and I had a good laugh together as he told me that he was going to leave extra litter on her side of the bed tonight.

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I now have stained hardwood floors, thanks to Incontinent Bob.

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Idea for poultry marketing: using the 80s slogan “Where’s The Beef?” I think the poultry industry should adopt my version… “Where’s The Beak?”

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“Jerk!” He yelled at me.

“Are you accusing me of identity theft?” I asked.

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*Life is like a glass of chess.

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The Huevos Rancheros tasted too authentic. I’m pretty sure I saw a clump of manure in there. Thanks for the recommendation, though.

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“…his face was a topographic and cartographic wonder…” – from the book “Write Good,” regarding polite methods of describing dermatological afflictions.

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gingivitis

Gingivitis
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I signed my first artist to my label: Gwen Campbell. It’s an all-female country cover band.

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Some nitwit keeps placing googly eyes on the stair diagrams. I wonder when I’m going to deplete my supply of googly eyes?
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I wrote the best joke ever written a few minutes ago.
This isn’t the joke.
This is the tribute.

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I watched the horizon to the north as huge lightning bolts illuminated the towering clouds. At 4 a.m. nothing was as it seemed. A couple of hours later, I stand inside, immobile, as the sky bombs the roof. Nothing has changed. Except for everything.

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The look on the doctor’s face when he saw the phlebotomy band-aid on my neck… I asked him, “Where did the blood tech get trained? Is it safe to do blood draws from the neck?” P.S. They should be paying ME for the entertainment.

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Apparently, “Dothraki” isn’t what the doctor’s office envisioned under the ‘Preferred Language’ area of the patient data chart.

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Extrospectacle

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You trace the lines left by others, your own path superimposed on those of the people whose lives and inscrutable motivations might as well have been birthed on an alien planet. You might know them but not in the profound way that you wish were possible. Age confirms the suspicion that almost everyone navigates life by the seat of their ill-fitted pants and that no singular truth prevents you from missteps made a million times by our predecessors. And you wonder why the impolite and persistent dissatisfaction doesn’t abate, not entirely, and never when you’re alone with your thoughts.

Interlude

“Love the one that’s your width.” – X’s new take on an old cliche and song lyric.

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Some people burn propane, others butane, and the rest insane.

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I see a really surly guy a couple of times a week. He’s a bastard – one of those you’ll see arguing with the sunrise.

I went outside and fed a crumbled biscuit to the duck and the myriad finches who’ve learned to congregate around me.

Mr. Surly, who I’ve previously and politely asked to go jump off a cliff with an anvil tied to his face and leave me alone, sneered at me.

“Bread is bad for birds!” Mr. Surly said it at high volume for the sake of bystanders. He should’ve known better.

Without hesitation, I loudly said, “Well those 3 DWIs and smoking habit aren’t exactly points in your favor.”

Yes, I looked over my shoulder 200 times that day.

Still a win, though.

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They told me to take more pictures while I was on vacation, so I took all 17 from the lobby of the Holiday Inn Express.

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For those who missed the four a.m. show, the sky repeatedly and explosively turned neon and gauzy purple as tendrils of lightning snaked across the sleepy sky. I found myself driving five miles out of the way, watching thick varicose veins of lightning find its way to the ground. Bolts shook the air, and I could feel the car vibrate.

I wanted to drive on and lose the day.

Though I arrived first, I parked on the top level of the parking garage to watch the lightning roll above.

Nothing that fills this day will surpass the violent and thunderous purple of the dead hour of this morning.

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*Reviews That Matter
If you haven’t seen Avengers: Endgame… Put on some energetic movie soundtrack music. Invite your very young nephew or niece over and have them flush the toilet for 180 minutes. #endgame

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“Doctor, why I do break out in a rash every time my boss approaches? Is it stress-related?”

“No, it’s an allerjerk reaction.”

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