Me: How is it an insult to hear about a family come together---Even in their moment of greatest need and even in their moment of greatest concern?
The Man Who Smells Like Burnt Broccoli: I don't need to explain my reasons to you. Just know that I'm better at hand clapping than anybody else on the planet. That alone is essential. All others, such as a coherent explanation for anything is unnecessary.
Me: Once again, I have no idea what you're talking about.
The Man Who Smells Like Burnt Broccoli: It must hurt to be outside the greatest political movement the world has ever known.
Me: Actually, you're the one who's outside the greatest political movement the world has ever known.
The Man Who Smells Like Burnt Broccoli: Then I shall clap my hands to show superiority.
The Man Who Smells Like Burnt Broccoli started to clap his hands for no reasons whatsoever until he's convinced he demonstrated his superiority. And then he stomped off with anger in his face. I frowned with a smirk as I walked off in the opposite direction.
And as I'm lost in thought in the Summer, here are some photos of the following individuals.
Jillian Banks aka Banks