I’ll Laugh Politely At That!

That joke, Mark, where, where you point to my coffee mug and say, “Put a little rum in that!”

The one, Ted, where you pass my office and say, “Looking good, Jean!”

Phil, the one when you catch me in the hallway and pretend to go this way! then that way! then this way! and then kiss me on the mouth.

Rick, the one where you sneak up behind me as we’re leaving the meeting and put your hands on my breasts and say, “My wife should have summa these.”

Stacy, one where you say the men in this office are sick and you’re going to quit.

Warren, the one about how even though you’re in a wheelchair your dick still works and do I want to see ?

Jeremy, the one where you say you were in the show Entourage and it’s your birthday (I know it’s not—I’m a huge fan) and would I? . . . this is embarrassing . . . but it would be an honor if I could give you a little scratch down there. “Come on, Jean. It’s my birthday.”

Steiny, the one where you say your wife left you and you don’t know how you can go on in a hellhole like this and everybody’s being such a dick about it and Don smacks you on the ass and says stop crying.

Ha!

Don, the one where I’m coming out of the women’s bathroom and you say, “Bup, bup, bup,” and push me back in.

Phil, the one where you say, “Pull my finger,” and when I do, you kiss me on the mouth.

Mike, the one where you call me by the wrong name and say, “You should smile more.”

Trent, the one where you call me by the wrong name and say, “You should wear leather more.”

Stacy, the one where you say, “I quit!”

Warren, the one where you smack Stacy on the ass as she leaves.

Rick, the one where you say, “I should never have told my wife about you. But I did, and she’s interested.”

Phil, the one where you say, “Have you ever been to Detroit?” and kiss me on the mouth.

Trent, the one where I’m wearing a leather vest and crying and Warren smacks me on the ass.

Don, the one where you say you don’t, but if you did own a private island you’d totally “Epstein” me.

Rick’s wife, the one where I’m over your house, naked and blindfolded, and you say, “I’m not Rick’s wife.”

Steiny, where we’re at your funeral and I’m smiling and wearing leather more and in the eulogy your nephew says your last words were “I told you fuckers I’d do this—thanks a lot.”

Don, the one where you point to my tummy and ask, “You’re not–?”

Don, the one where you ask if it’s yours.

Don, the one where you say, “You’re fired.”

Phil, the one where I’m leaving the office and you ask if I have COVID and when I say I don’t, you kiss me on the mouth and say, “Now you do.”

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