Lost by best (only) girl friend to some fictional country. Norwegia? Norway. One of those is a cheese.
If one more person misprounces my name at my new job, I'm going to snap. I will wad up the thing you just gave me to edit, and I will embed it into your skull. I'm tired of it. I can't imagine living another 24 years having to listen to it. There aren't 5 ways to say Colleen in one sentence. There aren't, but somehow you've managed. And yet, you couldn't slip the right one in there.
I took for granted the banter that used to be about music. Now it's about commercials, your gardener, and your bible on CD that you run to while you're supposed to be working. It skips, so you're thinking of putting your bible in MP3 format.