Her: Hello, sir, I’m calling from Comcast, I’m calling in regards to an online inquiry we received from this location regarding internet and phone service .
Me: No, no one here called, we already have internet service with you.
Her: I didn’t say anyone called, sir.
Me: Well, no one here put in an online inquiry about internet and phone service.
Her: Oh, okay sir, well I guess I’m just a liar.
Me: Ma’am, I’ve had internet service with Comcast for over five years at this location and I have never wanted phone service. I didn’t say you were a liar, what I said was no one here made any inquiry, online or otherwise, about internet and phone service.
Her: Okay sir, well if no one did make an inquiry, or if you did so in error, that’s just the reason I was calling.
Jefferson’s Brother: My brother’s gonna kill us! He’s gonna kill us! He’s gonna kill you and he’s gonna kill me, he’s gonna kill us!
Jeff Spicoli: Hey man, just be glad I had fast reflexes!
Jefferson’s Brother: My brother’s gonna shit!
Jeff Spicoli: Make up your mind, dude, is he gonna shit or is he gonna kill us?
… I was on some fantasy tropical beach where alligators and humans coexisted. The alligators would just cruise by in the water, give you a glance, and continue on. It seemed a strange truce, like the alligators were somehow forced into this against their will. There were always a few of them floating off in the distance, watching, seemingly waiting. No one brought pets to this beach, because everyone knew the alligators would eat them without a second thought. “We won’t mess with you, but fuck Mittens,” seemed to be the alligators’ attitude. So I was sitting on the beach, taking in some sun, and I was talking to some guy, and we both agreed that some day, one of the alligators would for sure snap and attack a human, and that would be the end of the truce and all bloody hell would break loose.
Such are my nighttime dreams.