I'm yammering away with Editor Amazing today, catching up on several projects we have in common.
The conversation turns to a Publishing BigWig.
Editor: "Some malcontent was trying to tell me some salacious piece of gossip about BigWig's nocturnal activities the other day, but frankly, who cares. He's just too nice a guy to care about crap like that."
Me: "He could have carnal knowledge of a goat in the public square and I wouldn't care. I adore him."
Editor: "As long as it's not my goat, me either."