When conversations collide

Johnnie Cochran is dead. Jesse Jackson is in Florida, siding with Terri Schiavo's parents. Both of which led to this conversation in my office this afternoon.

Colleague A: Hey, did you hear Johnnie Cochran died?
Me: No, when?
Colleague A: Just a few minutes ago. But I didn't hear how.

I then call up Drudge to check the details. There it is in screaming red, Johnnie is dead. Also, a link to a story on Jesse Jackson's trip to Florida.

Me: Hey, and Jesse's in Florida on the Schiavo case.
Colleague A: It doesn't say how he died?

Colleague B walks in.

Colleague B: Jesse Jackson's dead?
Colleague A: No, Johnnie Cochran's dead.
Me: Jesse Jackson is in Florida protesting the starving girl case.
Colleague B: Oh.
Me: You know I just had this very sick thought. If we would have put a blonde wig on that poor girl and told O.J. she was sleeping with a waiter, we could have ended this Schiavo mess a long time ago. (Uproarious laughter from everyone) ... My god, what a horrible thing for me to say.
Colleague B: Yeah, but funny.
Colleague A: Possibly one of the funniest things every said in this office.
Me: I'm going to hell for that one.

Satan, party of two, please. Satan, party of two.