If I knew I was going to meet the president, I would have worn a tie. I mean, look at me. I look like a schlemiel.
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You know, this was supposed to be my weekend off. But no. You got me out here dragging your heavy ass through the burning desert, with your dreadlocks sticking out the back of my parachute. You’ve got to come down here with an attitude, acting all big and bad. And what the hell is that smell?! I could’ve been at a barbecue! But I ain’t mad. It’s all right. That is all right.