Yet Another Way You DON’T Want To Be Like Woody Allen

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Drew: “What are you doing?”

Me: “I’m making cookie dough for Casey, as a surprise.”

Drew: “Why didn’t I just marry you, when I had the chance?”

Me: “What chance?  When we met, I was 13 and you were 21, you fucking pervert.  What…were you going to swing by my middle school after a hard day at the college of medicine and pick me up in your windowless van?”

Drew: “I’m torn between feeling incredible disgust with myself for being a potential pedophile, and disgust with you, for thinking that I’d ever drive a fucking van.”

6 thoughts on “Yet Another Way You DON’T Want To Be Like Woody Allen

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