Not the sharpest crayon in the shed, are ya?
You’re mixing metaphors, buddy. Perhaps your elevator doesn’t go to the penthouse any longer.
Penthouse, shmenthouse. You know what they say about stones…
Sticks and stones, man.
Glass houses is all I’m saying.
My glass is half-full because I’m an optimist.
I think you need an optometrist, pal. That glass is half-full of pee.
It’s lemonade, ya doofus. That’s what we cheery types make when life gives us lemons.
Cheery, cherry, dingleberry. Lemons are for losers! I have a banana in my pocket.
You’re probably just happy to see me.
I’ll be happy to see the last of you, is what. Don’t let the door hit ya.
That door? The one with the armed guard?
“You’re talking to yourself again,” the guard said. “I’m telling the doctor you need more meds.”
Mom always spoils our fun.
I know, right?
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Image found at Asbestos.com, no relation to Asbestos Dust, I presume…