A sure sign that you are tired.
You find yourself bolting down your prize breakfast java like it was half-skunked Meister Brau or Milwaukee's Best.
Two toddlers with ear infections.
Just imagine the possiblities those five terrifying little words entail. That may explain why my co-workers have taken to greeting me with screams of "The dead live! The dead freaking live! Kill it! Kill it!"
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Be reasonably civil. Ire alloyed with reason is fine. But slagging the host gets you the banhammer.