Tribbles and Shits

So it's eleven thirty at night and I'm standing at the gas station counter. I yawn and stretch my neck a little. "Long day?" asks the guy behind the counter.
Not yet, but it probably will be.

On the flipside of things, there's something particularly rewarding about spending an extra long shift at work, and then being able to stop at McDonald's on the way home for a McMuffin.

Is it illegal to sell Troll to minors yet?
No more so than usual.
Drat. Troll, eat another plate of Jello.
What's IN that Jello, anyway?
It would probably be more accurate to ask "The Jello is in what?"

Oh, I was thinking that SECRETLY? Ooops. What I meant was GODDAMN, THERE'S NO ACCOUNTING FOR TASTE!!

Whoa, you were up for 28 hours straight? That's pretty fun but then crashing afterwards sucks. How long were out when you finally slept?
Two hours.
Yes, really.

The other reason I think goths are funny is they frequently will just come up and talk to me, assuming I like them. They just come out of nowhere and start gothing at me. (It's a verb NOW, damnit.)

Sorry, I was using that in the general sense, I didn't specifically mean "intercourse", "fucking", or "putting his area in your no-no spot."

Yep, I'm always thinking!
It's usually about shiny objects or tits, but still, always thinkin.

Well if that's a sack, then GET IN IT!