Raven on a Writing Desk

Him: "my mother becomes a genetic determinist when you're around."
Me: "you mean?... ah, she thinks any children of ours would be depressive autistics who would beat their heads against the wall for the duration of their short and tormented lives."
Him: *helpless laughter*

Me: "I think I really need to flog you."
Him: "You could use the riding crop."
Me: "No, it's too easy to raise welts. I need a flogger so I can whale the hell out of you until I've got it out of my system."
Him: "All my floggers are packed up."
Me: "I think if we announced to our friends that I needed to flog you, we'd have three offers within a minute."

Is there any chance we could all just link hands and sing a song from a Coca-Cola commercial?