Last month, my one (cool) (Muslim) (Ethiopian) coworker asked me if I had heard about the book that Trump's dead brother's daughter wrote, and I said yes.
"I want to read it," she was like.
I then asked her if the niece wasn't a psychologist or a psychiatrist or whatever.
"Yes, something like that," she was like.
I then told her that just that day I had heard that the one resident who's a retired college professor had ordered it and it was on the way in the mail.
"Maybe you can borrow it from her," I was like.
"Maybe," she was like.
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