I’ve been meaning to mention this for a while but I just wanted to say you have the coolest sig I’ve seen in a long time.
Funny. Subtle. Cerebral. Bwahahahaha!
Why thank you. Thank you very much.
(and it’s new and improved and hyper-linked, too!)
The coolest sig?
That’s all you can say to the truly amazing Ginger???
You should be groveling at her feet! Telling her how glorious SHE is, and her sig isn’t just cool, it’s the most unbelievably wonderful sig you’ve ever ever seen in your whole entire life!
Sheesh! You’d think the God of the Underworld would know these things! Leave it to the wife to have to remind him of everything…
Oh, yeah. That too.
Bow, infidel!
(Thanks Al. It’s been a long day.)
Yes, dear!
It took you five hours to come up with “Yes, dear”??
He’s a little slow. Sometimes the sulphur gets to him, you know?
Sulphur? Feh.
I’m thinkin it’s the Persephone that gets to him.
Ya know, for a supposed god of the underworld I sure catch a lot of flak. I try to pay a nice compliment to a nice gal and the next thing ya know my friggin wife(!) is complaining because I didn’t compliment her enough!
I go away for a little while (and who do you suppose watches over the damned souls while I’m gone – no one, that’s who – we had two escapes just last week – but I digress…) and when I try to do the right thing the receiver of the compliment unloads on me!
Hell? You think this is hell? I’ll tell you what hell is – anywhere there is more than one female! Or even one female is enough if she keeps flapping her jaw, going on and on about mindless, who cares trivia, while I’m trying to get some work done. And here I am in a very hot place with about 5 billion females and more arriving every day. You talk about your Hells!
Hello? Is that you dear? Oh nothing, I was just writing a thank you note. No dear, you don’t have to come see what I’m writing. It’s on the SDMB. No, it’s nothing personal. Um, I’m just answering a question. Why would I mention you at all dear? No, no, NO – don’t come in here…
Ahem. I would like to apologize to any of the female gender I may have offended by my previous remarks. Apparently I was out of my mind. I’m better now.
Isn’t this a wonderful place? See all the women? They’re the ones who make this a happy place!
Yes dear. I do feel better now. You can stop now. I promise I won’t slip up again!
(I’ll show you Hell!)
Oh, you’re not Mickey Mouse’s dog? Guess I shouldn’t mail you that cool squeaky toy I bought for you today.
Two escapes last week. Yeah. And you know why there only two? Because I was watching the place, that’s why!
When I went on vacation, there were 37 escapes in two days! Why? Because you took that opportunity to call in your beer-swilling, cigar-chomping, poker-playing dead friends and trash my house! YOU were too busy watching porn and lighting each other’s farts to pay attention to the fact that our charges were just waltzing right on outta here, and taking my wedding china and my private stash of Strawberry Frosted Pop-Tarts with them!
Sheesh! Let ONE GUY kidnap you, and he thinks he’s a god or something! Wanker.
I love you two.
Can I come live with you?
Well sure, Ginger, but you’ve kinda gotta be dead first. Besides, why would you want to move to Hades? I mean, you already live in Canada.
:::flee!:::
I’m thinkin’ I can run faster pissed than you can worried…
I’m thinking you could run faster than me while you’re asleep than I can run when my butt is in flames and the fire truck is at the end of the block.
No one ever accused me of being a track star. 
Ha! Something new!
You, madam, are Marion Jones!
Bwahahahaha! A new insult!
Okay…who’s Marion Jones?
No one ever accused me of knowing anything about what goes on in the world around me, either.
Sigh.
A track star.
You know, you should hire a minion to take over secretly while you take some time off, since you can’t trust Pluto, and all.
I really should check in more often.
So, Ginger – you wanna move in and Persephone’s got a long list of whiny complaints about me and my buddies. Let’s see if we can’t work something out.
Maybe we could arrange for Persephone to go on an open-ended visit to her mother (who has her own special corner down here) while you and I get better acquainted. You could show me your sig and I could show you …
OW! OUCH!
Sorry, Ginger, deals off. Gotta go.
Sheesh. I didn’t even THINK that you would trade Al in fer me.
I hope she got you GOOD.