“Hello! Is this Gordon’s Pizza?”
“No sir, it’s Google’s Pizza.”
“Did I dial the wrong number?
“No sir, Google bought the pizza store.”
“Oh, alright then. I’d like to place an order please.”
“Okay sir, do you want the usual?”
“The usual? You know what my usual is?”
“According to the caller ID, the last 15 times you’ve ordered a 12-slice with double-cheese, sausage, and thick crust.”
“Okay, that’s what I want this time too.”
“May I suggest that this time you order an 8-slice with ricotta, arugula, and tomato instead?”
“No, I hate vegetables.”
“But your cholesterol is not good.”
“How do you know?”
“Through the subscribers guide. We have the results of your blood tests for the last 7 years.”
“You know what, I’m sick of Google, Facebook, Twitter, and everyone else having all my information! I’m going to an island without internet, where there’s no cellphone line, and no one to spy on me!”
“I understand sir. But you may want to renew your passport… it expired 5 weeks ago.”
I’m pretty sure we’ve had this before . . .
My girlfriend left a note on the fridge saying, “It’s not working. I can’t take it anymore. I am going to my mother’s.”
I opened the fridge. The light came on, the beer was cold.
I can’t figure out what she’s talking about?
There are women whose thoughtful husbands buy them flowers for no reason. And then there’s me. One day I couldn’t stand it any longer. “Why don’t you ever bring me flowers?” I asked.
“What’s the point?” my husband said. “They die after about a week.”
“So could you,” I shot back, “but I still like having you around.”