Robin: "Holy molars! Am I ever glad I take good care of my teeth!"
Batman: "True. You owe your life to dental hygiene."
I'm feeling exceptionally chatty. That is not a good sign. I even spoke more than five words to the barista at the coffee place in the union. He wasn't even cute. And the coffee was only so-so. And here I was, chatting? I don't
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Here, recite this:
Credo in Deum Patrem omnipotentem, Creatorem caeli et terrae. Et in Iesum Christum, Filium eius unicum, Dominum nostrum, qui conceptus est de Spiritu Sancto, natus ex Maria Virgine, passus sub Pontio Pilato, crucifixus, mortuus, et sepultus, descendit ad infernos, tertia die resurrexit a mortuis, ascendit ad caelos, sedet ad dexteram Dei Patris omnipotentis, inde venturus est iudicare vivos et mortuos. Credo in Spiritum Sanctum, sanctam Ecclesiam catholicam, sanctorum communionem, remissionem peccatorum, carnis resurrectionem, vitam aeternam. Amen.
And then see what happens? If you feel a burning sensation, you're fine, that's your normal evil. But if you start itching AND burning, get some vagisil (for your lady parts, you chatty mofo).
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And yes, I am.
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It is a bit early for male menopause. I think it's just the humidity, and maybe the fact that I may not have said 100 words in the week before...not aloud anyway. And most of those were "Large Coffee, Black" and "Busy."
(I wasn't actually busy, but that seems to work really well when avoiding ridiculous discussions at school.)
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