"I like the sound of that." Ned can guess how hard it must be for someone of Ginsberg's disposition and temperament to be polite to his bosses when he can't bring himself to respect them. Maybe having a good laugh about them behind their backs, with someone he trusts, will be some comfort.

Ned likes that concept of a continuum of normalcy to freakishness, knows that he and Ginsberg are both far closer to the latter than the former. There is just a touch of warmth that comes into his smile, as he contests, "No, no, I'm going to have to disagree with you on that. I'm definitely just as freaky as you, if not moreso. I think I just... hide it more."

He thinks back to one of their former conversations, about how Ginsberg decided that he was going to stop pretending to be normal, to just be himself and damn the consequences. It's the kind of decision, Ned thinks, that comes from being a little bit strange, but maybe not too strange. Not the kind of strange where his life would likely be in jeopardy if people found out.

"You know, you really are unlike anyone I've been with." Putting the mug of tea down - still untouched - Ned explains further, "Anyone else would be badgering me to explain myself, by this point. Or trying to change my mind. Or making fun of me."