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November 20, 2005

Comments

Yer so frickin' handsome.

Man, why the long face?

You omitted to mention that the family's deer saga unfolded even as they were trying—successfully, in the end—to catch one last city in their whirlwind European tour, and get their much-desired Venice on.

There's no doubt about it—tonight, Ben is on.

Now his preferred make of car is Audi, but once it had been Nissan.

I once disinherited a child of mine, with whom I later had a partial reconciliation; now I tell people I have a demi-son.

I hope you made clear that his name would stay struck from your will until he stopped shooting up heroin, or indulging in any other veiny sin.

Oh, he's clean of needle drugs and whatnot. It's true, though, that I'll never fully recognize him (and maybe not even then, too) until he kicks that heinous gin.

You should invite him over for a game of Carcassonne.

No one plays that anymore. These days Mah Jongg's in.

I think your posts may be getting too subtle for me.

I'm working on a new kind of pun: the non–inferably intended pun. (The idea: venison/benison.)

Also known as the plausible deniability pun. This is important work you're doing.

Honi soit qui mal y puns.

A pun is a fish.

Give a man a pun, and he'll hate you for a day. Teach a man to pun, and you'll hate him for the rest of his life.

You've grown into your glasses, Ben.

A pun is a fish.

I can no longer remember what the significance of this comment was supposed to be.

Ghoti, perhaps?

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