“Pleasant to see you again, Mr. Anderson!”
“Oh, no, please, Joe, call me Raul.”
“I’m sorry, I’d feel like I’d be offending you if I did, Dr. A!”
“I’m not a doctor. And it’s fine to call me by my given name…”
“Nope, you, Sir Anderson, shall be treated with the respect and admiration that you deserve!”
“Er, I’m also not a Knight from the days of yore, but, thank you, though I’d prefer-”
“Yes, Master Anderson Esquire the Second? I’m sorry, I was busy staring at your many medals, General, sir.”
“MR. HARTWICK! Please call me by my given name!”
“…I’m watchin’ you, Anderson. Thin ice!”
*sigh*
Let Title Reliance Die
Photo Credits: Here
Stop. Just stop. I just wanna watch people play cards with way-too-cheery commentators talking about the “action” while I try to sleep on my couch with the sickness of insomnia at 2 in the morning. What I do not want is all that pestering noise that assails my eardrums when you take those small betting discs and smash them together in every way imaginable. That infernal clicking noise was fine, almost novel when you’re actually making an action, but continuing through the down-time? Even when you’re not in the current hand? That verges on the point of mental disorder if you need to keep that up.
For a day that’s all about food, it seems only fitting to nitpick on the pronunciations on some of these simple items. 
Mnaxr kalmp pahstrick!
For the elitist: “Because I can!”
