"I have doctors who return my phone calls, and lawyers who return my phone calls. My son is a prick, and even he returns my phone calls.

So you might want to consider giving me a break."

Okay. I call him. "What's cooking?" I ask.
"Well, I'm getting my car lubed, and the sky is clear, and it's a beautiful day here in the San Fernando Valley. What's happening with you?"
"I'm sick. Can I go now?"

Okay. I didn't say that. But I thought it.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 11:19 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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