Zoe Is No Sponge

I used to have a bosom friend named Margy. She’s dead now. No, I kid! She’s just married and working in a casino. Margy used to steal my good ideas. She was an idea bandito. A thief in stonewashed trousers. A cutpurse, a slave-raider, a first-rate infringer. That’s why I killed her. No, NO, I kid! She’s just married and working in a casino. See, that’s one of the things I like about Zoe. She never sponges like Margy did. She comes up with her own crackpot ideas. She has no need for mine. In fact, when I offer her my good and/or profitable ideas, she refuses to accept them. Is it because Zoe is a mensch, or is it because she doesn’t know a stellar idea when she sees one? Like my vitamin gumball idea. Most people would have run with that one, and most people would have taken all the credit. Not Zoe. She’s too busy cabining. Is it because she is a cabiner, or is it because she doesn’t know a stellar idea when she sees one? Is it because her favorite movie is Krippendorf’s Tribe, or is it because she hates freedom? Is it because she lives fear, or is it because she fears to live? Once again, all good questions.