"so i was figuring that we'd have dinner with the chairman on sunday night"
"when the hell are you going home, mofo?"
"so i was thinking we meet up with the chairman on sunday"
"you want sushi"
"i want to talk business"
"well natch", i retort.
"i just figured that we could all....did you just say natch?"
"ummm, yeah. i did"
just then the mofo, lifts his middle finger and sticks it right in my face. "you realize that you now speak like you text people"
"you know i think you're right", the bastard responds. "i've been abbreviating alot lately."
"yeah, it took me a couple minute before i figured out what the hell you meant by 'deets'."
came home from dropping the mofo off at his friends house and stopping by the garage to pick up some gear, i park in the sweet spot (one of these days, i'll get into the sweet spot, the bad block, and the ludicrous parking location system the nice lady and i devised so that we could locate the car at various points in time), and on my way back to the apartment, i see this car, with this plate. there you go shiteyes...natch.