Maura, I've been dying to see you. I know you were fond of the 7" WondraVibe, and it was a great seller, but R&D just came back from a trip to South Chicago, and... well... just look behind you.
Hello, all, and nice to see you again. I'm Donald Rumsfeld, but you already knew that.
I'm happy to report that the war is over, and America victorious. For sharing this joyous occasion with us, the President has authorized me to give each reporter here a special gift.
Why the hell am I sitting here forcing myself to come up with enough dialogue to overfill the frame? Isn't there something else I should be doing?
Make love to me, Joel. For the love of God, please--I shouldn't have to beg for sex. I'm an attractive woman! You should be throwing yourself on me! Am I even here?
I could be out riding a bike or swimming at the pool, catching up with old high school friends, learning a foreign language--anything.
I mean, come on, it's been days since the last time we had sex. Maybe weeks. Don't you find me desirable anymore? I mean, look at my tits! They're fucking scrumptious!
But no... the dog's been walked, the trash is out. I just feel like there's something more productive than typing dialogue... but nothing comes to mind.
Jesus, man. I'll even do that thing where I lick peanut butter off the bottom of your shaft while you stick a zucchini in my asshole. Just show me you love me!