Actual conversations...

[QUOTE=Smartazboy;1023761][URL=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5DhETvNxBT4]Sleep eating[/URL][/QUOTE]

That dude's not asleep, he's shit-faced!!

[QUOTE=Smartazboy;1023761][URL=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5DhETvNxBT4]Sleep eating[/URL][/QUOTE]

That's some bullshit right there.

[url]http://www.talkaboutsleep.com/sleep-disorders/archives/parasomnias_sleepeating.htm[/url]

Next time my mom wakes up covered in ketchup I'll take a picture. The new Ambien and Lunestra commercials actually say right out loud that "sleep eating is a common side effect"

*convinced*

I'll sleepeat your family.

Hahahahahah!

(evil laugh^)

*eats a grape*

I don't know if you guys frequent the whatareyoueatingrightnow thread, but I am eating a fruit tray.

!! HOLY SHIT. I forgot. This week we got like, 17 fruit baskets. I'm going to demolish one of them right now. Fruit buddies!

I saw one thing about sleep eating where this guy spread peanut butter on a telephone then stuck a piece of bread on top and tried to eat it like a sandwich. That was awesome.

[QUOTE=succotash moon;1023746]Don't take this wrong, but is your mother attractive?[/QUOTE]
Well, she's forty-seven but looks thirty-five, and she has no grey hairs, and she's slim and tanned. I can see why men would want her. But my girlfriend?

[QUOTE=xec8;1023919]Well, she's forty-seven but looks thirty-five, and she has no grey hairs, and she's slim and tanned. I can see why men would want her. But my girlfriend?[/QUOTE]

I ask only because I can't keep up with your girls, but isn't she the bi-curious one?

[QUOTE=Smartazboy;1023921]I ask only because I can't keep up with your girls, but isn't she the bi-curious one?[/QUOTE]
Yes, yes she is.

It was just a dream, they are silly anyways, I am quite sure your girlfriend doesn't want to ACTUALLY screw your mother...

But you know, maybe she just sees in her the things she loves about you!

And stuff...

[QUOTE=xec8;1023922]Yes, yes she is.[/QUOTE]

Well, that explains a little but I guess it does suck that she had a sex dream about your mom, but on the other hand I've had a sex dream about a former girlfriend's mom before. Back in high school.

I dunno, the whole thing's a bit weird. Having a bisexual girlfriend was great when it meant that if I walked into a room and saw her making out with another girl, I could join them. This is not so cool. In fact, it's not cool at all.

I guess you have to take the good with the bad. In this case, the very bad.

My nephew is 5 years old and is now in Kindergarten.

Me: How do you like school, Cody?
Cody: I don't like it.
Me: Why not?
Cody: I don't like my teacher.
Me: Why don't you like your teacher?
Cody: She makes me do stuff.

i work in a bookstore. this was the customer i ran into yesterday:

[B]customer: um, can you help me? do you have anything like [U]Escort Services for Dummies[/U]?
me: excuse me?
customer: oh! so you know what an escort service is then, huh?
me (unamused): of course i do.
customer: my friend is running one up in Washington and he's making bank! it's legal. i'm going to give it a try.
me: so you want to be a pimp huh? wow.
me (actually checking books-in-print for books on how to run an escort service): it doesn't look like there are any books on running an escort service. the only title that comes up is [U]Chameleon Love[/U]. i think you're gonna have to go this one alone.
customer (with stupid grin on his face and waving bye frantically): cool! thanks!
[/B]
i've looked up some weird-ass subjects in my years in the bookstore. but i think this request is my new all-time favorite.

Back story: last night I got dragged to this really boring concert of people who thought they could sing and play. Of course, we were there to see the last band whom we'd seen before and don’t suck.

Me: Listening to that band was like eating a kitten.
Mike: I know right?
Me: My hand is asleep.
Mike: My ass is asleep.
Me (waving asleep fingers): Ooo... you want me to wake it up for you? *reaches for his butt*
Mike: Sure. I don’t care. I won't be able to feel it.
Me: Neither will I.
Mike: Isn't that a little like the blind leading the blind?
Me: No. It's more like two quadriplegics having sex. They can see what’s happening and know what's going on, but they can't feel anything.
Mike:... That’s fantastic... I'm gonna have to put that on a shirt.
Me: I know right?

We left before the last band.

Me: Monday is moon day, sunday is [i]sun[/i]day... [i]saturn[/i]day. Like that.
Girlfriend: What about wednesday?
Me: It's Odin's Day.
GF: What's that?
Me: Odin is a Norse god... like "the" Norse god.
GF: How do you know so much stuff?
Me: I don't know. I'm not even smart.
GF *slaps me across the face, fairly hard*
GF: Don't talk about my boyfriend!

Convo between me and friend on the phone
Me: Hey
Friend: Hey what's going on?
Me: not much, just playing online games, i'm bored
Friend: wanna go out?
Me: sure, where?
Friend: I dunno, lunch at the usual place with 'other friend,' cos he just got back.
Me: sure sounds good.
Friend: so how are you?
Me: Not bad, you?
Friend: Same
*After 5 seconds of silence*
Me: I think this conversation has peaked, see ya later i guess.
Friend: Yeah take care.

I'm goofing off drumming with my hands on a trash can lid to "Wipe Out" that's playing in the background. 16 yr old Girl walks up to me.

Girl: You're funny.
Me: Yeah?
Girl: Do you have a girlfriend?
Me: Not currently.
Girl: Do you have a car?
Me: Yeah. Why?
Girl: I...don't know...
Me: (big grin) You like me.
Girl: Well.. I don't know you that well....
Me: Ok.
[end of convo]
Dude: Why didn't you ask her out?
Me: Dude, she's 16.
Dude: That's not illegal. It's an investment.
(I laugh)
Dude: Write that down!

Cracked out from no sleep at four in the morning:

Me: I guess the only talent I have is analyzation. I can analyze the shit out of anything.
Mary Kathryn: Doesn't mean you don't have feelings or emotions...
Me: Well, they're a lot harder to legitimize when I can break them down so easily. I mean, I can read everyone I meet like a book. It's like literature.
MK: Literature? What, do I turn into words in front of you?
Me: Oh, totally, your skin just breaks apart and turn into letters in my eyes. And the letters turn into words, and the words turn into sentences -
MK: And the sentences turn into RAINBOWS!
Me: And the - what?
MK: And the rainbows, they turn into UNICORNS!
(I'm laughing now, rolling on the bed, enveloped by her fluffy white comforter)
MK: And those unicorns, they all turn into a bag of Cheetos.
Me (laughing): MK, you fail. I'm going to wrap you in the BLANKET OF FAILURE!!!
MK (being covered by me in the comforter): DOES NOT COMPUTE! DOES NOT COMPUTE!!!

[QUOTE=Jill's Tit;1027623]Cracked out from no sleep at four in the morning:

Me: I guess the only talent I have is analyzation. I can analyze the shit out of anything.
Mary Kathryn: Doesn't mean you don't have feelings or emotions...
Me: Well, they're a lot harder to legitimize when I can break them down so easily. I mean, I can read everyone I meet like a book. It's like literature.
MK: Literature? What, do I turn into words in front of you?
Me: Oh, totally, your skin just breaks apart and turn into letters in my eyes. And the letters turn into words, and the words turn into sentences -
MK: And the sentences turn into RAINBOWS!
Me: And the - what?
MK: And the rainbows, they turn into UNICORNS!
(I'm laughing now, rolling on the bed, enveloped by her fluffy white comforter)
MK: And those unicorns, they all turn into a bag of Cheetos.
Me (laughing): MK, you fail. I'm going to wrap you in the BLANKET OF FAILURE!!!
MK (being covered by me in the comforter): DOES NOT COMPUTE! DOES NOT COMPUTE!!![/QUOTE]

i think this is both an amazing and adorable conversation...

[QUOTE]ʞıd... says:
I was checking your flights and stuff and your leaving the 15
ʞıd... says:
thats mexico's independence day jajajaja
ʞıd... says:
your gonna miss a hell of a party
The Spare Phil says:
i know, but what can i do!
The Spare Phil says:
now, are you going to show me a good time?
ʞıd... says:
depends on what a good time is for you
ʞıd... says:
what do you want to do
The Spare Phil says:
to you? everything. to mexico? we'll play it by ear[/QUOTE]

SMOOTH, PHIL. Yeah!

Also:

Me: Ah, Mother. May I have a word with you?
Mom: What is it?
Me: I just got off the phone with Mr Gradgrind. He claims you've been... counterfactual lately.
Mom: What?
Me: And according to Mr Bounderby, you've been playing tiddly-tops with young Stephen from the factory.
Mom: Who?
Me: May I suggest, Mother, that we... how shall I put it... terminate this sort of juvenile activity? I want the facts and nothing but the facts, Mother. Have you been playing tiddly-tops with young Stephen from the factory?
Mom: What?
Me: Oh, never mind.

Don Juan, right here.

[QUOTE=my shotgunface;1028115]i think this is both an amazing and adorable conversation...[/QUOTE]

Thank you, you're a peach.

Another conversation, in Russian and Portuguese:

Stepfather: How is sandwich?
Me: Oh, it's good.
Stepfather: Good. Every night you sit there with computer, writing, writing writing.
Me: That's... how writing works.
Stepfather: Well, when you finish book, you will translate into Russian and I will read, okay?
Me: I can't write in Russian.
Stepfather: That's okay, I can't read very well.

girl txts me this morning

kat: hey wanna go to taco bell tommarow night?
me: Sure should i make reservations?
kat: huh

seriously, who makes plans for taco bell a day and half in advance. I woulda went if she asked like 10 minutes beforehand

We got a call of a drunk guy wandering in the middle of a street in town a little while ago. We found him and brought him in to sober up in our lobby. As he walks in all I hear is him yelling. He comes to my window and we had this back and forth.

[B]Drunk[/B]: I want an ambulance.
[I]Me[/I]: Whats the problem?
[B]Drunk[/B]: That guy out there (pointing to cop that just dropped him off) called me an idiot!
[I]Me[/I]: What?
[B]Drunk[/B]: That guy called me an idiot!
[I]Me[/I]: So you want an ambulance because he called you an idiot?
[B]Drunk[/B]: Yes!
[I]Me[/I]: Well sir, an ambulance isn't going to heal your hurt feelings and it surely won't mend your broken heart.
[B]Drunk[/B]: Oh.
[I]Me[/I]: How about you go over there and take a nap?
[B]Drunk[/B]: [sigh]Okay.[/sigh]

[QUOTE=Smartazboy;1029695]
[I]Me[/I]: Well sir, an ambulance isn't going to heal your hurt feelings and it surely won't mend your broken heart.[/QUOTE]

Don't you kind of wish they did, though? :sigh: :ouch:

[QUOTE=Jill's Tit;1029696]Don't you kind of wish they did, though? :sigh: :ouch:[/QUOTE]

Yeah, sometimes... sometimes. :sad2: :stooges:

Me: So have you started school yet?
Ness: Yeah. It's fun, I like it.
Me: What's your teacher's name?
Ness: Secret.
Me: What?
Ness: IT'S A SECRET AND I CANNOT TELL YOU.

I assume this means he can't remember.

[QUOTE=xec8;1028717]Another conversation, in Russian and Portuguese:

Stepfather: How is sandwich?
Me: Oh, it's good.
Stepfather: Good. Every night you sit there with computer, writing, writing writing.
Me: That's... how writing works.
Stepfather: Well, when you finish book, you will translate into Russian and I will read, okay?
Me: I can't write in Russian.
Stepfather: That's okay, I can't read very well.[/QUOTE]

This would have been better as follows:

[QUOTE]Stepfather: How like sandwich?
Me: Oh, it's good.
Stepfather: Yeth. Every night you sit there with computer, yeast you write, write, write.
Me: That's... how writing works.
Stepfather: Yeast, I do when finish book, read for Russian, yeast?
Me: I can't write in Russian.
Stepfather: Yeast! I do not read goodly.[/QUOTE]

We're eating in the kitchen, and my mom and her boyfriend are having a long conversation in Russian. After ten minutes, I get up and say: "I'm going to eat this at the computer."
"Why?" says my mom.
"I don't understand what you're talking about."
"We're talking about very expensive prostitutes."
"Goodbye."

[QUOTE=jane s.;1029778]Me: So have you started school yet?
Ness: Yeah. It's fun, I like it.
Me: What's your teacher's name?
Ness: Secret.
Me: What?
Ness: IT'S A SECRET AND I CANNOT TELL YOU.

I assume this means he can't remember.[/QUOTE]
hahahahahaha adorable.

My daughter is 8yo and she has me reading this Christopher Lowell book to her as her bedtime story. What can I say, but she has great fashion and design sense, it's scary, I know I'm in big trouble when she gets into middle school.

Me (reading Lowell): Never underestimate the power of fabric to transform a space!

Daughter: That means that fabric is more powerful than a Sith Lord, because you should never underestimate the power of a Sith!

[I]I work with this woman who is incredibly bitter and negative. She has zero respect for our boss, the son of the Ma & Pa who is buying out his parents and taking over the business, but not much more respect for his Dad. She bitches pretty much constantly. This preamble is necessary because this was the extent of a conversation I had with her the other day:[/I]

"I know I shouldn't complain," she said (and before she could say 'but...')
"This is true," I said. Then I walked off.

[I]She didn't speak to me for two days after this. It was great.[/I]

[QUOTE=meatthinker;1030502]My daughter is 8yo and she has me reading this Christopher Lowell book to her as her bedtime story. What can I say, but she has great fashion and design sense, it's scary, I know I'm in big trouble when she gets into middle school.

Me (reading Lowell): Never underestimate the power of fabric to transform a space!

Daughter: That means that fabric is more powerful than a Sith Lord, because you should never underestimate the power of a Sith![/QUOTE]

Awesome. :p

I work in a nursing home, and my favorite resident doesn't talk. Which is why she's my favorite. So I have many one sided conversations, which generally turn into rambling about my boss. But: many other residents do talk. Unfortunately. We have one that tries to escape on a near daily basis.

Me: Sweetie, where are you going?
Resident: [mumble mumble mumble] GO TO HELL [mumble mumble mumble]
Me: No, you can't go that way. That's the emergency exit. Come with me, let's go for a walk.
Resident: No. I'm going home. [mumble]...Karen...[mumble]...car...[mumble] GO TO HELL
Me: C'mon honey...
Resident: *Smack* NOW LEAVE ME ALONE!
Me: Ouch.

This woman is like, 90, and she beats the shit out of me on a regular basis.

One of my friends recently asked me how to kill a main character in a book he was writing, so i told him what i think about.

-I work as a waiter, a few months ago a woman came in and ordered the 'country fried chicken'

woman: What the hell is this? (pointing to her food)
me: Um... I'm sorry i thought you said you wanted the country fried chicken? (thinking i misheard her order)
woman: I did. what the hell is this then?
me: (confused) That's what you ordered?
woman: Why is the chicken fried? i wanted grilled chicken. I can't eat this!
me: ...
(after several seconds of staring at her plate)
woman: well?
me: you're upset because your country 'fried' chicken came out fried?
woman: yes. I didn't expect it to be fried.
me: um... the country 'fried' chicken? (Placing much emphasis this time. Somehow it still eludes her, or she's pretending it does because she realizes what an idiot she is)
me: ok so what can i get you instead (giving up)
woman: the country fried chicken with grilled chicken.
me: so... our grilled chicken dinner then?
woman: (sighing) if thats the only way you can do it.
me: .......

so yeah. currently she's who i think of whenever i need to kill a character i like.

Text messaging earlier today:

[QUOTE]Me: I am not myself these days...
Jen: My words exactly. Who have you turned into and why?
Me: A shell of my former self, it seems. My mind has abandoned me for better things.
Jen: Then I cannot be with you, for I have filled my shell and broken through.
Me: How tragic, that our compatibility can never find stability.
Jen: How triste, for when I change to your comfortability, you change to mine.
Me: It must be that we must never be.
Jen: You must know our adaptation is slow.
Me: Then we wait.
Jen: And we flow.
Me: So it is.
Jen: So it goes.[/QUOTE]

We made a poem! :happysad:

"Phil, you were flirting with my best friend."
"I wasn't. You told me to be nice to her."
"Yeah but... she wasn't supposed to like you."
"Well... you should've, I dunno, made it clear that you wanted me to be nice in an... unsympathetic way."
"But... she was flirting back. Do you like her more than me?"
"Yes."
"Oh. Jesus. Okay... I..."
"Of course not. I was just being nice to her."
"Oh. Well, stop flirting with her."
"We were only talking."
""Well, Phil, talk less."
"All right."
"Do I look good?"
"You look great."
"Do I look better than her?"
"No. I mean yes. That was a joke."

I'm in the food court of the mall after eating a tuna sub from subway. My brother and two cousins have already left the food court, and I'm walking around looking for a recycling box to put my empty water bottle in. I go up to a girl working at one of the places and,

Rious: Excuse me, is there a recycling box around here?
Girl: Umm, I don't know.
Rious: You don't know? Don't you recycle?
Girl: There's a garbage right there.

Eyebrows.

Girl: Well, I know it's not the [I]right[/I] thing to do but...
[COLOR=Yellow]Rious: But [I]what[/I]? It's not the right thing. There's no but.[/COLOR]

I didn't say that yellow line. I wanted to, and would have, but I fell into a state of agony and couldn't speak anymore. I kind of stepped away from the girl, looking off into nothing, and she was still kind of holding eye contact with me as I faded away, and then I shook my head and walked off. I was in a mall in a different town a week earlier and had the same problem. It was sinking into me just then, how many malls don't have fucking recycling boxes? Later, when I told my brother this, my brother who is in Toronto three days a week, he goes, "Man, you're like that indian from The Simpsons," Indian impression: "Do yourself a favor. Don't turn around."

They stopped walking and looked back to see where I was. They were way too far away to hear what we were saying, but later that night my cousin goes, "What did you ask that girl at the mall? It looked like you told her the world was ending."

I walked around with an empty bottle in my pocket for like two hours.

so i'm in the car with my mother and I hear a beeping sound, like: [I]bahdoop[/I]

me: what's that noise?
mother: huh? I don't know
me: it sounds like a phone dying.
mother: *looks at her phone* it isn't my phone
me: well it isn't mine
[I]bahdoop[/I]
mother: oh.... wait a second... *looks toward the back seat*
me: wha?
mother: check the pocket of my walker.

[I]at the next red light, i do. I find the house phone[/I]

me: um...
mother: oops, I keep forgetting to put it back on the base when I leave the house.

[QUOTE=ScribblingDes;1036915]mother: oops, I keep forgetting to put it back on the base when I leave the house.[/QUOTE]

Sounds like my mum.

I'm at work, on break, sitting on a bench drinking a Pepsi and an Aquafina trying to take perfectly even sips from the 500ml bottle of water and the 355ml of pepsi so that I'm taking in a little more of the water in the right ratio that both will end at the same time...Just kidding, I drank the Pepsi first and the Aquafienda second.

"Can you believe they forgot me!?" A woman says. She's wearing the same uniform as me. We are in uni-form. What's she talking about? Haven't a clue. Surprise, lady, the world isn't tuned in to a mental radio station that keeps us in touch with the flow of your life.
"What?" No sign of annoyance in my voice*
"The break people?"
[I]The brick people?[/I]
"Who?"
"The break people."
"Ohhh, okay." [I]
The break people. She must be a cashier. Their breaks are decided by some group of people. I've been told this by a guy in my department in a discussion of whose jobs sucked the most. Though, I always assumed they would have a name for the break people, not just the break people.
[/I]
"I've got break and then only 25 minutes left on my shift."

I probably replied to her but I can't remember what I said.

She went to her car and got her cigarettes and then came and sat beside me. People do this here. Some people keep to themselves and won't even nod to you or say hello, others act like we're all part of the same family or sinking ship.

We talked about weather and Christmas and work related things and I pretty much just kept knocking the ball back in her court. Was she married? Kids? I didn't ask, cause then she'd ask me the same questions and I didn't feel like talking, really, not that I minded this out of nowhere conversation much, even though I was in deep thought at the time she spoke to me and interrupted my head. She seemed flirtatious.

*When I got to work, I didn't want to be there. I managed a mellow attitude nonetheless and tried to keep it throughout the day, which proved difficult. Some lady dropped a thing of grape tomatoes and I had to pick them up, and then some other lady almost bumped into me with her cart and then said I should watch where I'm going and then she dropped a big glass jar of ranch dressing and it smashed on the ground and she said they shouldn't have been sat there like that, and I was thinking yeah, you're a walking disaster, bitch, that's the problem here. These things didn't bother me at all. At some point a lady that looked like Dolores Claiborne looked at me with a knowing smile, like the two us shared some tasty secret, and I looked back at her, first at the burn or birth mark on her upper arm and then at her weathered face, and kind of gave her a WTF with the 'brows. Some old lady lost her grocery list and had company coming and it was a big deal to her so I did everything I could to find it but it was gone, vanished.

I was in a very, how should I say, Xec mood. What could that mean? My perception of Xec could be different than yours and both could be wrong, but there it is. What would Xec do, I asked myself today, when dealing with these annoying coworkers, customers, etc. I tried to borrow from the social lessons he's displayed here and I came off calm as a mother fucker throughout the entire day. It was a fine day. I felt victorious.

I was hoping the cute girl from the cold deli was going to be there, but she never showed. She was shopping there once around the time I just started and she was walking out with a friend of hers, and I gave her this look. This look was straight out of the jungle. I hadn't masturbated in something like 17 days and I was emanating a primal horniness that was attracting the oddest looks from the most unlikely of women. And I looked at this girl with something in my eyes like a wildfire, I can't remember what I was thinking at the time. She looked scared for a second, then like a doe staring at headlights, and she walked a bit slower and her friend, not paying attention, walked off ahead of her, still talking, but nobody was listening. The deli girl was lost in my eyes right there and looked like she might walk right over and rip me apart, or so I hoped, thought, fantasized.

She's some sacred kind of cute that I've always been a sucker for. She has something that six kinds of beautiful and a million shades of pretty can't quite sum up for me. Aside from that face, she has a good body with a bit of meat which is what I like and really great tits.

She used to think I was older than her, I gather, because the first time I was introduced to her on my first day, the guy introducing me said this is the new kid, and she was like, "Umm, I don't think he's a kid," and looked at me like I was thirty. Whenever she talks to me she's all smiley and giggly and has managed to find several excuses to talk to me. Then later a woman from the cold deli came over and said the girls in the deli want to know how old I am and I looked over and cutie started giggling, and so now she knows I'm 21 and she looks about 19 and ohmygodLOLwtfHiGhScHoOldurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
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rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrand I really wanna just walk right up to the cold deli counter and say, hey, it's ridicules that we aren't fucking each others brains out every night. I possibly had the energy to pursue her today, but what exactly is there to pursue? What is there to be trapped in? Who is she? She seems kind, but what does she believe in? Is she smart? What does she listen to? What if she's one of those girls whose myspace music list you might scan and think, "UGGGHK" and then move the fuck on, and the more important question, the only question: What does she read? Does she read? And what if she doesn't? What if she falls in love with me and she doesn't even read? Where will I go, what will I do? I'll have to fake my death or something. Damn I love black hair on a girl.

Young second grader: Mr G I need help!

Me: What's going on?

Young second grader: I don't know how to spell dinosaur.

Me: Sound it out. What's the first letter?

Young second grader: D. I. N...n...I don't like spelling. It's hard. Spelling makes me hard.

Me: ........

[QUOTE=Jill's Tit;1036613]
We made a poem! :happysad:[/QUOTE]

EMOTXTKROFLGROFL