Man: A timeshare? I thought this was a software package? Well, if it's required, I guess I have to buy it too.
mac-at-kearsarge infiltrated our lunch with his coy smirk, his shiny head, and his eye lashes that perfectly shape-matched his nike sweatshirt logo.
Bradley chose the suave look for his lunchtime fooding.
Mark hides his face due to his decision to sell his lower lip as an early iPhone deposit.
"Any of you little bastards start jumping around like a sweaty Ballmer and I'll smack you so hard your mom will feel it. Capiche?
'Creating Beautiful Documents' with MS Office always goes way way over time.
"iPhone throat-singing tribute songs podcast, take two. Day one."
He was like this for a long long while.
"That's photoshopped. So fake."
Woman: I know the sign says 'Garage', but you can't park that Segway on my foot. Oh, it's you Mr.Woz. I'm so sorry. Please, feel free to run over my foot anytime.
Suddenly paranoid, the guitarist fled the backdrop, arms waving over his head.
Oh shit, he's found us. Someone hide me before he shocks me with static electricity or worse, engages me in conversation.
That was close. I could smell his balloon musk yards away.