I used to work with a Karen (her disposition, not her name) who could talk for hours on end in an unbroken stream, without pausing even for a second to think what she was going to say next. It’s a losing battle arguing with that sort, and they know it.
I have a sister that is named Karen and fits the description to a T.
I have a hobby that has been proven effective at removing all Karens within a one hundred foot radius.
How is this possible, you say?
Because—Karens believe that smelling one molecule of this substance can cause permanent heart and lung damage.
I smoke cigars. :-)
In college I dated a girl named Karen. She was an Early Childhood Education major, so I’m sure she’s a true ‘Karen’ now. Hope she didn’t inherit her mom’s gigantic bubble butt.