Drum roll, please!
Oh, I hate the drum roll bit.
DO THE DRUM ROLL OR I’LL HURL MYSELF OUT OF THE WINDOW.
We’re only on the second floor: go ahead.
Why must you be this way.
I am as God created me.
There’s big news.
The Tonight Show thing? Everyone knows.
You’re going to stop fucking around and talking to yourself and dead rock stars and write something real?
I give up.
Thoughtsonthedead.com is open for business!
Are you still hanging around?
Where did you even come from?
Hey, guys. Whatcha do–
Nope. Uh-uh. Not you. Not after what you did.
You knew who you were talking to, and what you were saying.
How could you do that?
I just thought…
Sorry. Take care of yourselves. Okay.
That was really awkward.
I’m cringing. I got the shkeevs.
After what he did.
Right! Whoo! This is great and wonderful. How’s the “Donate” button coming?
We weren’t going to mention that.
No, you weren’t going to discuss it with them. I feel we should have regular meetings about the subject. Also: question.
If the new site is open for business–
Don’t say business.
—then why are we here?
Well, if I moved to a new home, I would bring my stuff with me. I can’t figure out how to get the archives and whatnot over there, plus the place looks like crap and needs redecorating before I’ll spend the night.
You’re such a picky princess.
After our bellies are full, life is aesthetics.
And a pretentious tit.
Never denied it.