Sure, go ahead and put on some music. No, sorry, I don’t have that album—they only had it on 33 1/3 RPM vinyl, not on 78s.
Would I like to go to bed? Well, I admit that beds are comfortable—in fact, they’re a bit too comfortable. Haven’t you noticed that human creativity and vigor has been markedly reduced since the invention of the modern bed? We used to wake up at the crack of dawn, huddled together on cave floors, and get to work inventing the wheel. Now we lie in bed browsing Instagram on iPads. So I’d prefer to lie down on my sustainable teak hardwood floor, if you don’t mind.
I see you’ve shaved your legs and armpits, and trimmed your pubic hair to a narrow landing strip. I understand why you chose to do that, but I’m frankly having a hard time getting excited about these gams that have been swept artificially bare by one of those razors that television is always trying to sell us. Perhaps you’re versed in the ancient practice of fellatio?
A condom? Yes, I have these natural soy-based prophylactics. What? That’s grossing you out? You’re not turned on at all? That’s no problem: we can lube it up with tofurkey fat.
What, you’re leaving? Well, I’m sorry if my consistency of principle isn’t something you find very erotic—you sure seemed to think it was pretty sexy when I was articulately and passionately assailing e-books! If you want to go back, baby, you’ve gotta go all the way. Just let yourself out—no, there’s no security system. Rather than trusting in that lazy technology, I prefer to keep my poison-tipped blow darts handy.
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