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Have I ever told you the story about the time I hid in Ben’s roommate’s closet for two hours white knuckling a baseball bat? Anyone [pause], anyone remember...no? Because I’d hate to repeat myself and risk sounding like a nagger. A repeater is like a nagger, and no one likes a nagger, however, sometimes a nagger must repeatedly remind a certain somebody to buy lemons on his way home because the last time a certain somebody wasn’t nagged at, the nagger had to eat her hummus without a squeeze of lemon. The only thing worse than a nagger is a grumpy nagger who’s forced to eat Middle Eastern food without a squirt of citrus.
Maybe that’s the real crux of the Middle East conflict, lack of citrus on their falafels, because boy, a plate of baba ghanoush without a lemon wedge can make me cross. There. Problem solved. Hillary Clinton, you’re welcome.
Annnnyway, hiding for my life in the closet. ...Continue Reading »

























