So I was heading down to the Dog 'n' Suds on the corner of Sikh and Fifth for a vegi-burger--yum-oh, as the cooking flake with great tits on the TV says--and I run into my old pal, Tensing Nooma.
"Hey, Tensing! The fuck you doing, bro?"
And he says, "Greetings, your holiness! And what's the 14th Dalai Lama up to today?"
I notice that Tensing is wearing, for fuck's sakes, an Invicta--one of those big-ass ones that looks like a limpet mine. So I kinda sorta shoot the cuff of my saffron robe to kinda scratch my bald head, and expose my Patek, ref. 658. And Tensing, who ain't ever gonna split the atom, if you get my drift, says, "Dang, Dalai, that's a nice watch. What is that, one of those Kansas City Pocket Watches you see on TV?"
Now, since I've known the fuck, Tensing has always specialized in breaking my balls. Today, evidently, wasn't gonna be no exception. So I say, "Tensing, you know who gave me this watch? Franklin Delano fucking Roosevelt gave me this watch, you cocksucker, and it ain't no fucking Kansas City Pocket watch, you dizzy fuck."
"No? What is it, then?"
"It's a motherfucking Patek moonphase with complete calendar, you dipshit."
"Wow. What's the holiest man in Tibet wearing something like that for? I mean, you could hock the thing, and use the money to spare the lives of thousands of cows! Then, you could buy an Invicta like this--which is just as good--and use it against the People's Army when they come to reeducate you."
"Aww, go fuck yourself, Tensing. Don't you have a turban to coil or something? Go ahead and do some fucking thing."
"Next thing you know," said Tensing, who apparently didn't want to go do some fucking thing, "you'll be wearing a Rolex. You'll be stylin' and profilin'."
"I got two Rollies, you fuckhead. A Day-Date and a Datejust, you homo."
"Would Lord Vishnu wear a Rolex?" said Tensing. He started laughing really hard, so I kicked him in the balls and then went into the greasy spoon for a satisfying vegi-burger.
THE END
