How dare you go out drinking and chasing pussy without me!!
You failed miserably of course because you can't pick up cute chicks anymore, because you lost your edge a long middle-classed time ago... Then, on the verge of having to go home with your stump tail between your pudgy legs, you DARE call me?

What makes you think I would be alone on a Saturday night at midnight?

Are you that delusional? I mean, have you looked at me lately?
How about my ass? My legs? My lips? Uh hum, my HELLO NIPPLES???

Do you actually think a goddess like myself would watch Mad TV with her king kid, then fall into a deep and satisfying sleep after a sparkling day during which she had cleaned the mansion, scrubbed and cooked and danced and swept it all away then shaved her legs glassy?

Surely you don't think such a built-for-speed jungle animal like me would live such a boring, non-Dorothy Parker life.

I feel sorry for you.
Such a cheap, restless, wannabe little man.
Such a get away with whatever he can, rude little man.
Such a classless, potty mouth white trash little wonder bread man.

One mustn't blow too hard on you -- your life is made of particle board.

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