from tonight until the end of time

“If I ever write my autobiography–”

“You should.”

“If I do, what should I call it?”


“Often Irritated, Never Duplicated.”

“You’re freakishly good at that.”

“What I do have are a very particular set of skills. Skills I have acquired over a very long career.”

“Tell me something about you…”

“Like what?”


“I once said ‘you complete me’ to a plate of French fries.”

“‘Anything’ may have been a poor choice…”

“I get that a lot.”

“Try again?”

“Okay… When Shania Twain sing-asks her man about whose bed his boots have allegedly been under, I always wonder if she gave any thought at all to dating someone with enough common decency to take his boots off at the back door like a person.”

“Wow. You’re not good at this.”


“Did you just say ‘shrug?'”


“How about I tell you something about me?”

“That would be quite a relief.”

“Okay. I’m giving serious thought to letting you kiss me at the end of the night.”

“Well… Alright then.”

“You seem pretty pleased.”

“I mean, you’re no plate of french fries…”

“Fair. What is this? You still have a mixed cd?”

“What? No.”

“You do.”


“You called it ‘Mellow Magic Makeout Music 3’?”

“I think someone broke in and left it in my car.”

“Oh man…”

“I… uhm… have it here to use to seduce the laaaadies.”

“Tell me there’s a track list.”

“Hey. Let’s talk about something else… The Middle East… Troubling.”

“Chicago’s ‘You’re The Inspiration’ is on here!”

“I’m not familiar with that tune.”

“Haha. This is amazing!”


“If this was one of those movies, it would cut to us driving and singing along loudly to it right now.”

“Ha. Yup.”





“Put it in the stereo.”