Look at this shit. Romanza lining up for the serve. Look at this fucking shit. Dang. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. That’s why, yeah, that’s why I’m looking at you like this. He did football, check. He did baseball, check. Hockey, check. With the Stanley Cup, okay. Wait, there’s more. Now he’s got tennis. He’s having a full-blown fucking tennis match where he’s hitting the ball, then he’s walking to the other side changing his outfit, okay, and then he’s hitting the ball back. He’s playing fucking tennis with himself. He’s got a good backhand, though. That’s out, that’s out. My distance, no. Are you kidding me? There he goes. Now he’s arguing with the garbage bag. Just another day for me. This is ridiculous. You are not paying attention, I see you. Yeah, what’d you do today? You know, I mowed the lawn and then I watched my fucking neighbor play a tennis match with himself and argue with a garbage bag. Yeah. Anyways, you fought another time in the morning. It’s gonna be a problem, because what you did wasn’t nice. You fought and then you put the comfort over, Diane. I didn’t appreciate that.