In which I continue to kill trees…

 “Oh, yeah, that joke about the frozen bananas is hi-LAR-ious.  Have I mentioned how dreamy your eyes are?”

 “I’ve got enough caffeine in my system to finish another three pages.  When that’s done, I’ll go replace it with alcohol.”

 “That’s a good one.  Have you heard that joke about the frozen banana?  Aw nuts, I gave away the punch line.”

 “12 hits?  Oh, come on, that was one of my better blog posts.  Everybody’s supposed to love frozen bananas.”

 “Well, I don’t want to hurt your feelings as say that I thought that concert was lame, so here, let me flex my chest a little.  All better, right?”

 “It was good to see Stacey again at the concert, but honestly, that guy she was with would not shut up about those frozen bananas.  Is that joke even supposed to be funny?”

 “No, we don’t serve bananas.  Would you like a coffee?  No, sorry, we don’t serve beer either.”

 “Wow.  This blog has really gone downhill.  Bookmark list…delete.”

 “Mmm.  yes, I’ve heard it.  I found it rather bourgeois and trite, and I only tell it ironically.”

 “If she doesn’t think she’s a lesbian, someone should tell her.  It’s so obvious.  LOL.”

 “Bernard collapsed slowly on the floor, a single tear rolling down his cheek.  Montague looked on dispassionately.  ‘Pray tell, have you heard the tale of the banana in winter, Bernard?’  What the…?”

 “The price of bananas has skyrocketed!  Time to sell.  And we’ll place those funds into Frigidaire.  Oh, I AM a genius.”

“Trust me, she is so very definitely not a lesbian.  I know.  I can tell.  Can you believe they don’t sell beer?”

 “Why does everyone assume I’m a lesbian?  Is it the bunch of bananas I have in my freezer?  Those were turning brown.  I’m going to make banana bread.”

“Banana bread is delicious served hot.”


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