Pseudo-New Yorker

Legal humor here.

“Yeah, I look goatish. But, you know, I don’t feel goatish.”

“Horns are a symbol of virility. But only to other goats.”

“Yeah, there are days when I would just like to butt someone, really hard. But apparently that would be illegal.”

“I think I look a lot like Hell Boy. But the chicks don’t see it.”

“I’m sorry, but what is the deal with walking on your hind legs? It’s totally not civilized.”

“Girlfriend, there’s nothing sadder than a satyr in a suit, and that’s exactly what I am.”

“There’s more enterprise in going naked, but the pay is lousy.”

“What’s wrong with this town? It’s the wrong damn Ithaca, that’s what’s wrong with this damn town. I could kill for a glimpse of the wine-dark sea.”

“Let’s just say she was Circe in a tank top, and I fell for her, hard.”

“I’ve got the horns for the job, all right, but not the heart for it. These hooves were made for greener pastures than Manhattan has to offer.”