what's your perfect crime?
I break into Tiffany’s at midnight. Do I go for the vault?
No, I go for the chandelier. It’s priceless.
As I’m taking it down, a woman catches me. She tells me to stop. It’s her father’s business.
She’s Tiffany.
I say no. We make love all night.
In the morning the cops come and I escape in one of their uniforms.
I tell her to meet me in Mexico but I go to Canada. I don’t trust her.
Besides, I like the cold.
Thirty years later, I get a postcard. I have a son and he’s the chief of police.
This is where the story gets interesting: I tell Tiffany to meet me in Paris, by the Trocadero.
She’s been waiting for me all these years; she’s never taken another lover.
I don’t care, I don’t show up.
I go to Berlin.
That’s where I stashed the chandelier.
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Screenshots of a current favorite.
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Considering how incompetent of a boss he was, Michael Scott had a ridiculously low turnover rate.
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It's a different ball game
It’s frustrating how once you’re the one on the inside, common sense gets thrown out the window. Simple, easy concepts become difficult and complex. It’s as though the same advice you give to your friends is the most difficult thing to follow. You try to clear your head, try to follow your own advice but in the end you fall back into the same thing all over again. Weird how that happens hey? I mean you don’t want to fall back into the same thing, but its seems that the more you try to turn your back, the more you’re drawn in.
We’re all just looking for some kind of escape.
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Jim & Pam moments → [6/?]
Love suffers long and is kind. It is not proud. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails. And now these three remain: Faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.
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