Charlie told his friend Bob "I bought a racehorse today."
"Really?" Bob said. "What did you name it, what is its gender, what is its timing and what are you planning to do with it."
"It's a male, and I'm going to name him 'My Face,'" Charlie replied. "He runs a mile in just under a minute. I don't even care if he doesn't win a race or make me any money."
"Then why the hell did you buy him if you don't care if he wins or makes you any money?"
"I just want to hear all those uppity posh bitches at the racetracks yelling 'Come on, My Face!'" Charlie said. "God, I would love to hear that."
"Really?" Bob said. "What did you name it, what is its gender, what is its timing and what are you planning to do with it."
"It's a male, and I'm going to name him 'My Face,'" Charlie replied. "He runs a mile in just under a minute. I don't even care if he doesn't win a race or make me any money."
"Then why the hell did you buy him if you don't care if he wins or makes you any money?"
"I just want to hear all those uppity posh bitches at the racetracks yelling 'Come on, My Face!'" Charlie said. "God, I would love to hear that."