You made out with Madonna. I made out with my hand.
Point for you.
You have kids, I do not.
Point for me.
You hardly ever wash your weave. I hardly ever wash my hair.
Draw.
You are financially superior, but you're head is an intellectual wasteland.
Still, point for you.
Your bod is 100x more rockin than mine, but because you are an international pop star, and I am an account coordinator, you are fat.
Chocolate cake with cheeto candles for you.
My job is to shuffle bizzilions of ads around, yours is to preform flawlessly- which means your performance the other night was like me going to work with my panties on my head.
Point for me.
This meticulous point by point comparision has us coming out with 3 point each, demonstrating our equal dispositions- although, you did come out with a tasty treat. Our nearly equivalent statures means that I am qualified to be your new friend and manager, and accordingly entitled to half of your fortune. Please have your people call my people.
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3 comments:
I made the suggestion that you be her manager. Therefore, I get 15% of whatever you earn, pre-tax.
But $0 times anything = $0.
Dang.
If you become her manager, then you'll have to testify in the K-fed trial. You should let this one go.
haha, ok
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