.gif "How many weeks will those minutes last?")
"Don't just stand there, go outside, where we were just moments ago and inexplicably left to come back inside. Probably so that I could tell you to go outside again."
What word are you afraid to think of, Carol? Is it "minutes" - is it because you know that, in whatever nightmare dimension you inhabit, the concept of "minutes" equates to a torturously long, interminable, tedious span of time? E.g., this conversation that has probably taken place over the course of "minutes" but started like, a month ago. I think. Who knows, Tommie's been wearing that shirt for "days."
3 comments:
Yes, Old Luann!! Don't let decades of rejection and apathy steer you away from the man you're obsessed with! It's not like he jumped on a horse and blindly ran into the wilderness as soon as you arrived or anything! Or... wait...
After riding around for weeks in the wilderness, I think Jack may need a few ''minutes'' with a shower... but then again, Carol must be so used to the funk of Tommie's pink turtleneck, that Jack's musky aroma will be a pleasant change of pace.
I so wish Margo would show up with a flamethrower and burn the place down in an effort to free these two from the evil spell of torpor they're under. (Lu Ann could come along too. Even Lily.)
END! END! END! END! END! END!
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