when i order a martini, i don't want no goddamned vodka in my martini, want a proper martini, one with gin, dammit.
DO NOT SHAKE MY DANGBLAMED MARTINI.
you're bruisin' the goddamn gin in my martini.
how do you use this typewriter? capitalize lock i can do but how do you capitalize and not capitalize?
damn tv boxes.
they say "oh oh you just MUST have a computer because it makes life so much fartin' easier!" but here i am trying to figure out how to type a goddamn cap letter with out hitting capitalize lock every goddamned time.
i want three olives with my GIN MARTINI. three! thank y -- hey. what's this? in my olives?
BLUE CHEESE?
this goddamned century. i want proper green olives with red somethings stuffed into them just like we drank in EVERY DECADE throughout the 20th century and i get blue cheese.
OH EXCUSE ME IS THAT "BLEU" CHEESE?
traditions are there for a reason.
you kids, you don't know. you got your irack and afganystan but we had ourselves a proper war with battleships and flying fortresses and d-day and the greatest generation. you just don't know what it is not to be without your ham and your hot water and and and your googley-googley-google.
oh! oh! did you miss you mamby-pamby telephone call because you don't get your radio signal through the WALL? did you miss your texty messagy? BOO EFFIN HOO BOY!
no, i don't want your olives. just lemme drink my martini and stop your nattering and leave me to think on this tragedy we call "the future" of our once-great nation.
...
hey,
yeah, you, come back here. I KNOW WHAT I SAID, just...
can you take the olives off my tab?
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