Friends, Lebanese, countrymen, lend me your earlobes;
I come to rebuff Sandi, not to spit at her.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their hairdos;
So let it be with Sandi. The lively Marissa
Hath told you Sandi was considerate:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Sandi answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Marissa and the rest–
For Marissa is a creepy woman;
So are they all, all creepy women–
Come I to speak in Sandi’s funeral.
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