Androgynous.

S/he doesn't interact much, but s/he has asked to be called "Tony." Or "Toni." I can't tell. It's never been written down.

Does reason #1 rhyme with "Smilled Breeze Crandsnitches"?

Even if I have shag carpet?

Wait.

There's an inside?

That's probably true.

But, in my defense, I should say that I share an apartment with some of the Romney kids and some of the Palin kids too — Brax, Splint, Calc, and Vault. Nice enough guys. Apparently they're involved in politics — which is nice, since it reminds me when to change the sheets.

Are those television shows? I'm unfamiliar . . .

You see, I have a tv in my bedroom, but I can't see the screen from underneath my mattress.

Four? Four?!?!

I thought you were supposed to change sheets in a way that coincided with presidential elections: once every four years, not four times every one year.

My bed is supposed to wear underpants?

This is more confusing than I thought . . .

All of that seems like really, really good advice.

But I have a more, um, rudimentary question:

The mattress — Do I sleep on top of it? Or does it sleep on top of me?

Thanks in advance.

Phew!

And apologies for the rogue apostrophe. Those little buggers suck.

Or a Clark Bar.

Your call.

(Hope you're well, WCB.)

You are wise, SA. Wise. I like you.

One question: How many legs to sea anemone's have? Teeth? (Is that two questions?)

I agree, WCB.

Sometimes words fail.

She did work at Facebook, you know.

What a farce!

Might I interest you in a job that involves nothing other than goofing off on the internet?

That's no joke, SA.

I was a backup first-baseman for the NY Yankees in the 1920s. The guy in front of me played every gawddamn game. Every one. So one Tuesday afternoon I just went to Coney Island instead of the stadium. I mean, why bother?

But you're totally right: Everyone was pissed. Nothing to do. Still…

So it wasn't the sweatshirts.

Darn. That stinks.

But at least we know the chair felt fully utilized. That's something, no?

(Hope your time as a barista is just a half-step to something great!)

If they didn't have enough work to fill 40 hours, why were you there 60-70 hours?

Did it have anything to do with the sweatshirts?

Whose pucker?