The comedy en-womb-ing of billion-$ cocaine empires

Consent is sexy

Published on: 26 May 01:28

Kevin asks

I just found 5 empty bottles of beer in my 15yo daughters bed, hidden under the comforter (Wed is sheets day for laundry). foundShe is at school still but will be home soon. What do?

My answer

Add another ten bottles, various other drug paraphernalia, paperwork incriminating her in organising a massive drug-running ring, plus of course a fake passport for Pablo Escobar, then accuse her of always having been Pablo Escobar. Surprisingly plausible: his drug-running empire was a work of genius. You reckon he couldn't have operated his empire whilst being in the form of only a sperm and an egg, for many years, and then as a developing embryo? 'Course he could, he's just that expert. Happens all the time. You'd be amazed how many women undergo conventional pregnancies and genuinely not notice emanating from multiple orifices the everyday nitty-gritties of drug empires: huge snaking nests of telephone lines, other comms, drug mule management, police dawn raids, corrupt senators, even the occasional submarine, plus all kinds of other hilarious crap, for weeks and weeks and months and months. Or they totally do but they're genuinely cool with it. Most ladies I dated back in university were and are chill, fab gals, and typically considered their inadvertent en-womb-ing of these colossal multi-billion-dollar cocaine empires a tremendous laugh. Gotta kill time somehow, you know?

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