Heard on the street, August 16, 2012, edition

If chest hair was boobs, you’d be a D-cup.

It’s hard to tell who’s deaf here and who’s just a gay who talks with his hands.

“He started his own hedge fund.” “I thought he was starting a speakeasy.”

I saw you smoking on Google Maps.

Once I was at a wedding and stepped on a baby.

Wish I had a snack. A 36-24-36 snack.

I am your blackest friend—and only because I have dark hair.

It’s not really a protein. It’s more of an amino-acid slurry.

Honestly, if my parents lived in Boystown, I’d live at home, too.

The Chicago skyline is like pornography for me.

All of the sudden it smells like Long John Silver’s.

There is a Pink Line! I’ve never been on it. Sounds scary.