Dude. Look... I met this total babe and we, you know, hooked up. So, according the Book of Guy Rules #741, you have to walk home. Sorry.
But...
But, nothing! Dude.... you know the rules! Don't be a puss! Anyhoo, I'm meeting her for lunch, so... Adios. And try and stay off of the Kennedy during rush hour.
Here's a scene, You're in the back seat, laying down the windows wrap around, To sound of the travel and the engine, All you hear is time stand still in travel
Produced by Scott Litt
And feel such peace and absolute tranqulity, The stars are the greatest thing you've ever seen, And they are there for you, For you alone you are the everything
Looks like you're trying to write a song that can find purhcase with the emotionally disenfranchised!
Hey, Dick? Should I go and say something to all the hurricane survivors in New Orleans?
Well, ordinarily, I'd say no. There's no way to set up a "FreeSpeech Zone" there, with all the devastation.. but...
I think we may have a nice, safe place where we could shoot a photo op that makes you look sensitive to the Katrina victims. We'll just have to edit a little.
People of New Orleans, I feel your pain! It's hard to be president, to make decisions.. it's very, very hard. It really is so very hard!
Look, you're the one who mentioned you were a musician... If you can't HANDLE the fact that YOUR music has become old hat in a discussion abou.. hey, what are you doing?
Sorry, sis, but you've been flapping your gums at me for an hour and now it's lunch time.
Just like an aging has been to cop out to.. um.. what kind of sandwich is that?
Rare roast beef, grey poupon and Swiss on rye.
Say.. uh.. can I have a...
Sorry.. this sandwich is for posers, only. Try the hipster vend-o-mat on 7.