Voicemail

“So, alright, I just talked to my dad and he’s broke off the engagement with the gold digger after 3 years, thank God, and now he’s dating a woman he met on the internet. The highlights: she’s from Malaysia, so she’s Asian, and, uh, she works for I, I, MIT something blah blah blah something out there, anyways, she’s got a good job so I guess the point is she’s not a gold digger and she’s probably smart and she’s Asian, so I, I guess I’m supposed to, uh, accept that my dad has no type whatsoever, because he’s all over the board. I highly doubt that she has big huge giant tits like, uh, whatever, but she doesn’t like her real name – I can’t even pronounce it – so she asked him to call her something else, and she’s decided she wants to be called Angel, which, sorry, makes me think of strippers more than anything because I know a lot of strippers that go by Angel, so, I thought that was funny and, um, I have no idea how old she is or anything, I just find this amusing. I am kind of glad to be rid of the gold digger but, um, but uh, she already did a lot of damage, so hopefully, hopefully this new girl will allow my dad to recover a little bit financially. So anyway. My life is just hysterical. Like all of the time, really. I know you have a lot to write about, but if you ever run out, if you ever run out, just call me.”