I’m Not Clumsy
Listen, I do not appreciate you calling my “clumsy.” It is insulting and belittling and whoops! Sorry about that. Sorry.
Anyway, what were we talking about? Oh yeah, you called me a klutz. I am not a klutz. I will have you know, sir, that I take a great deal of pride in my grace and balance, which has always been my dammit! Shoot. I apologize. That wasn’t my fault. Someone must have bumped into me.
Like I said, your claim that I am some kind of “clumsy goofus” is uncalled for. Why, just the other day, my mother commented on how agile I was when wh-wh-whoa! Hold on … I got it. See?! I didn’t drop it. A klutz would have dropped it—Youch, my hand! Whoops! Dammit.
Alright, maybe I might have a few clumsy moments, but that doesn’t make me a heads up! Look out, coming through! Ahh man! Who leaves a skateboard in the middle of a bar floor? That doesn’t even make any sense.
Okay, um okay. I think that I’m not making my point as well as I would like to right now, so I am going to leave. Will someone please help me get this mop bucket unstuck from my head? It’s awfully dark in here. Hello? Is that somebody’s camera I hear?
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