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You know when you have a job and you know they’re trying to get rid of you? You try to do everything right until you can make a move. The guy in the next cubicle starts getting lap dances at 9:14 in the morning while you polish the boss’s shoes.

Nice gals, Dan!

You missed a spot, Claudia.

I think my teenager is trying to get rid of me. If I try to do something nice for her, it gets turned around to some kind of subversive plot that I’m masterminding.

It seems that my job description is the guy in the Argument Room in Monty Python’s Flying Circus. No, it isn’t.

But my other job is that she tells me what’s interesting when she feels like it. And my other other job is that she wants me to hug her when she feels like it.

I think I have job security unless I run out of here screaming without giving two weeks’ notice.

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