You're either a goddess ... or a doormat.
You can't always be the jokester and the doormat.
If you want to be a doormat you have to lay yourself down first.
The poor taxpayer may wipe his shoes on a $3 doormat when he goes home, but not the Navy. It is, damn the cost, full feet ahead on a doormat you would be ashamed to get muddy.
They are so filthy and bestial that no honest man would admit one into his house for a water-closet doormat.
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