My roommate S and me are the laziest creatures during the weekends. We plop ourselves in front on the TV with everything in roll-able/ crawl-able distance so we don’t have to get up. Unless it is to go to the bathroom. And we’re working on an alternative for that as well. This avoids ‘You’re closest to the kitchen’ and ‘You’re closest to the newspaper rack’ (This was to check if there was anything worth watching on TV) kind of conversation.
But natural, the comparison to Joey and Chandler and their famous not-moving-from-the-arm-chairs-episode came up. The conversation that ensued is as follows.

Me: Man, we are just like Chandler and Joey
S: Yeah man. I don’t want to be Chandler though.
Me: Good. I’d rather be Chandler. He’s much better.
S: And I’d rather be Joey. At least I am handsome.
Me: I am funny.
(The conversation starts heating up.)
S: Stupid funny! I am an actor.
Me: Yeah an out of work actor.
S: I am in Days of our lives
Me: A soap Opera. Sniff Sniff. Hand me my kerchief.
S: You are just an accountant.
Me (immediately defensive): I am not an accountant
S: Yeah. Then what do you do?
Me (Racking my blank memory): I uhh… I uhh … I uhh.. I at least have a steady job. You don’t even have that.
S: I get all the girls.
Me: I could get girls. I just don’t need any girls. I am married to a great girl.
S (in a scornful voice): You are married to a maniac with OCD.
Me (getting angry): Hey! At least I am married.
S: Who wants to get married!
Me (sarcastically): People with a GOAL in life. Something you can’t even spell!
(We both pause now, out of breath. Our eyes spitting fire. We turn to the TV screen for a respite. Baywatch is on.)
Me: Look at them run
S: Run. Run. Run
Me (smiling blissfully at S who is smiling back blissfully): Pass me a slice of Pizza, will you?