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You’re going now, unless you want more of that
Well, I’m married now.
Men have to do strange things sometimes that they don’t like to tell their wives about
“Know what I’d like to do? I’d like to take you dancing. You remind me of my wife.”
Would you like me to make you spaghetti?
I’m afraid of women. They scream and they scratch and sometimes they step on your toes
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death…
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
(Shakespeare, Macbeth, V, 5)
Hey, honey, if you could cook, I’d marry you