Via Raconteur Report,
Myself, at the local chocolatier's establishment yesternight: "I'd like half a dozen thingamajigs, please."
Retarded Minion of Stupidity employed by said chocolatier: "How many thingamajigs would you like?"
Myself: "Half a dozen, please."
Retarded Minion, now looking thoroughly bumflustercated: "Um
Read this story at Zero Hedge