Actual conversations...

This may sound childish but my mom is really PC so this is funny to me.

Me- Hey mom, if someone who takes a lot of quizes is quizical what is someone who takes a lot of tests?

Mom- (enthusiastically) Testicle!

*I stare at her*

*She realizes what she said*

The problem with Freud's theories is they just aren't testicle!

Me and my friend Josh are talking and he says how he found a trumpet and how his dog goes crazy whenever she sees it.  i pick up the trumpet and his sister walks in.

Josh's sister- Why do you have a trumpet?

Me- Why don't I have a trumpet?

Josh's sister- ...Because you suck at it?

Me- Trick question, I do have a trumpet.

Sounds stupid now. Eveybody there found it pretty histerical. Maybe you had to be there. 

 My friends and I were watching the coverage of the Indiana Primary...

Erika: "Obama is going to win India."

Me: "...Indiana."

Erika: "Oh."

Then yesterday my brother and I went to visit my dad and a Greek lady was outside the door. (She doesn't know English.)

GreekLady: jfakjflakdjkalsjfdklafj Hello! ajkdfjadljlakfjlfjd

Me: ...Hi!

John: Hey!

Greek Lady: klajflakdjfkldfjakl Big eyes! djfakljalkdj

John: Do you want something?

She points at the door and then laughs and hits our arms lightly

Me: Okay...we'll go get our dad.

GreekLady: No, no alkdjfakdjfkla!!! 

We didn't know what to do and we went inside, she was still out their talking to us. Turns out she wanted her garbage disposal fixed.

It's pretty funny. I might steal that.

This is great.

HEY LADIES IM SINGLE AGAIN!

Ah and i wonder why my relationships fail

This just happend last night:

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

me(so drunk my eyes cant focus): "so yeah and then kurt russel runs up looking like...i dont know...half biker half pirate but hes bad ass and he essentially saves the presidents daughter from this rediculous strange junkyard like landscape and they have a car/surf chase.....

The Ex(drunk as hell) "I love you"

Me: "thank you, so yeah then he plays basketball with this dude who looks like che guerva.....what what? Oh dont gimme that i love you  shit, you know you dont mean it so why do you want me to play along?"

The Ex: "oh fuck it your a prick, i was serious you fucking jagoff"

Me: " no you dont your drunk as fuck, dont be retarded"

The Ex: "retarded?"

Me "yep retarded, and drunk"

I went to the dentist today to get my tooth filled and this kind of dopey dental assistant woman was showing me a magnified picture of the hole in my tooth. I was wearing shades because of the light they had pointed in my eyes. They were lame but I rock shades regardless of their style. She seemed to think their dental equipment was state of the art, high tech shit. She proudly told me the magnification was, dun dun dun, 20x! She talked like I could have put an exclamation mark after every statement.

Dental Assistant: See that on the screen? That's your tooth.

Nightrious: That hole looks a lot smaller than it feels.

Dental Assistant: Things always feel bigger with your tongue.

Nightrious: *fiendish grin*

She also asked me if I had an accent.

Fiend: Why is a pun called a pun?

Me: What do you mean?

Fiend: Well, a pun is a play on words right? Shouldn't it be called a POW?

Me: It's not an acronym.  It's just a word.

A Conversation Via Email:

Me: Send me your requests for any personal supplies you're going to need from now through october. This means anything you want personally that no one else uses.

CoWorker: We need post-it flags. blah blah blah

Me (Irritated because this isnt a personal request): Do you mean the fat ones you can write on, or the thin arrow ones?

CoWorker: I'm the fat ones.

Me to myself: Yes you are....

 Car Conversation:

Dre: "Just say sorry to Billy so we can go smoke!"

John: "NO! Plus, we already smoked."

Dre: "LET'S SMOKE MORE!"

John: "What do you not understand? The asshole was being an asshole, he played hissy-fit at the gas station for twenty minutes because he didn't want to pump gas in MY car so i can bring HIM somewhere."

(silence)

Me: "Dre, do the dying Eagle!"

Dre: "Do I look like a fucken puppet?"

Me: "...Yes."

5th on the phone with Billy: "...You walked home from Route 5?....(laughs)....Kicked out of your house!?....(laughs)...You fucked up your hand!?....(laughs)...You're just chillin' at the pond, for how long?....FOUR HOURS....(everybody laughs) Billy, how am i supposed to teach you how to bang if you're just a fucked up man? First your shoulders, "Ahh I can't swing like that, my shoulder bro.", Now you'll say: "Ahh I can't punch like that, my knuckles bro." 

Dre: "Pick Billy up man!"

John: "No!"

5th: "Alexa how come you never answer when I call you?"

Me: "Because I'm single."

5th: "That's why I'm calling you."

Me: "I know."

5th: "What the fuck Alexa!? You make no sense!"

Me: "...Most likely."

Dre: "Peaches, kiss me."

Me: "Nah."

John: "Don't call my sister that."

5th: "The trees look fucken awesome."

Me: "Connecticut has some nice trees."

5th: "...Pick up the phone tomorrow Alexa! Like, at night."

Me: "I just can't seem to find it, you know--my phone."

(silence until we park at our place)

Dre: "C'mon dude, Billy is your boy just forget it and we can go on and do our shit!"

Me: "Yeah, i agree with Andre....Dre do the dying eagle."

(Dre shrieks a sound that cannot be put into words, except for two: Dying Eagle, because that is what it sounds like.)

Dre: "I'm calling Billy, you two are apologising to each other and then we'll smoke."

John: "...Alright, alright. Ok. Go do that Dre."

(Some time after a few arguments and hang ups with Billy and John...)

John: "If you don't apologise to my shoe, then you're staying at the pond."

Billy: "I'm not fucken apologising to a fucken shoe. That shits' degrading, that's fucked up Johnny."

John: "Ok. Then I'm not picking you up."

Dre: "Dude, he already said sorry about not pumping the gas. Forget the shoe, yo."

Me: "Yeah, c'mon Johnny let's just smoke."

John: "BILLY say sorry to my shoe! You fucked them up, I just bought these!"

Billy: "I'm not saying sorry to any shoe. OH, OH they were already fucked up!"

John: "Kiss my shoe Billy. Kneel down and kiss it, saying sorry to it. If you do that I'll pick you up." 

(Billy hung up, and Dre's phone dies. While John laughs.)

Dre: "Yo, you got a phone up there?"

Me: "Here, use mines."

You seem to like your conversations.

Me: I'm looking for a collection of verses by Yeats.

Store clerk: Bates?

Me: Yeats.

Store clerk: I don't think we have anything by her.

Me: Him.

Store clerk: Okay, we definitely don't have anything by Waites.

This reminds me of when I was looking for a Caryl Churchill play for Adelheid's Secret Santa gift.

Jane: Well, they don't put CFCs in aeresols anymore. Not because it's bad for the environment, but because they explode if you burn them.

Steve: Why would someone be out burning aeresol cans?

Jane: Well, if you were burning your trash, for example.

Steve: Who burns their trash?!

Jane: People that live in the country.

Steve: We live in the country, and we don't burn our trash.

[in my brain: just because you have 1.5 acres of ground and multiple dogs does NOT mean you live in the country. If your water goes out when you lose your power, you live in the country. If you have street sweepers, you do NOT live in the country.]

Jane: Dude, this is not the country.

Steve: So they don't get trash pickup? They can't just put it on the curb?

Jane: What curb!? You either have to burn it or haul it to the dump yourself, which is a hassle.

Steve: [b] I don't believe you.[/b]

Emphasis mine.

I sort of despise Steve a little now.

Yeah, tell Steve he's a cunt faced assassin.

Are you the only person allowed to use that phrase?  I feel you should be.

Anyway...

Mom:  Are you depressed?

Me:  Umm...I don't think so.  Why?

[Blah blah, discussing why I'm not so happy I'm bursting at the seams]

Mom: Oh, well, I think if you excersized more, you'd feel better.

Me: You know, if we got me diagnosed as depressive, I wouldn't need to get a job.

Mom: You mean from selling your pills.

Me: I'm pretty sure I can get four bucks a pill for Xanax.

Mom:  You're a horrible son.

Me:  Love you.

My friend used it the other day to insult a fellow grocer and then looked at me like, is that cool? Yeah, it's a community phrase. I feel it's growing bigger than me and I'm ready to let it go.

I really hope this conversation took place on Mother's Day.

The day after.  But close enough to be awesome.

I sold em for $6!

read somewhere:

Q: what's worse, ignorance or apathy?

A: i don't know and i don't care

Call to home:

Me:  Hi is Mum there?

Bro:  Eh...(mumble mumble) Mum!  It's your fisrt born son.

Mum: Hello. What's up?

Me:  Did he just call me your first born son?

Mum:  Yes he did.

Me:  But I don't have a willy!

Mum:  No you don't have a willy.

Bro: Hey I don't have a willy, I have a WANG.

 Billy: You walk around with your mouth open it's so funny!

Alexa: Dude, you're a ginger! 

Dylan: A what?

John: South Park man.

Alexa: Ginger!! 

Dylan: What?

Alexa: Pull up your pants. 

The words willy and wang are equally amusing.

My cousin graduated from college Saturday.  I ended up spending most of the night with assorted family and a friend I'd dragged along.  My sister got incredibly drunk which was great because she almost never drinks at all.  Turns out, she's a whole lot more fun when she's liquored up.

My sister:  I remember the first time I got into a car in Colombia.  I started putting on my seatbelt and Maria looked at me like I was insane.  She said, "We don't use those things sweetie."

Yamith:  What a bitch.

My sister:  No, well yeah, but I think that she thought I was insulting her driving abilities.  Like asking if anyone knows the heimlich maneuver before eating or.... something.

Yamith:  No, no, she's just a bitch. 

Sister:  The only thing that was really bad was the first morning.  It was probably 3 in the morning and I wake up to some idiot out in the street yelling " Goatmilkgoatmilkgoatmilk get it while it's......... freeeeeeeesh.   Goatmilkgoatmilkgoatmilk get it while it's......... freeeeeeeeeeesh."

Yamith:  Hahahaha, they STILL do that?  Goat milk guy isn't as bad as orange guy though, orange guy had loudspeakers.  One time-

Sister:  Shut up.  Anyway.  I looked out the window and there were all these old ladies with cups lined up behind a freaking goat.  They just squeeze it right into the glass! 

A bit later we were sitting in the yard staring at the neighbor's window like a buncha pervs.  It was a big blurry one, and depending on what room it was, we decided she was either brushing her teeth, washing the dishes, or baking a cake.

My sister:  This reminds me of that time Alisha and I were stranded in Mexico.  We were flipping through the channels right.  When we got to some married people arguing.

Guy:  How did you know they were married?

My sister:  She was wearing a wedding dress.  It was pretty obvious.  Anyway, it goes to commercials, so we change it.  Maybe.... five minutes later, we change it back, and GUESS what they were doing.

Me:  I'd rather not.

Sister:  Her legs were like THIS (moves fingers very graphically) and he was right HERE (points) just going at it.

Pregnant Chick:  Wow.

Sister:  I know!  Anyway, I didn't really know what to do.  Alisha had the control and wasn't changing it so....... I dunno.  We just........ watched it.  Then it went to commercials again so she changed the channel.  But 20 minutes later, we were kinda wondering what happened to them.  Like, did they get divorced, or does hot sex fix all?  So we changed it back, and guess where they were.

Me:  I have no clue.

Sister:  At the BEACH.  And guess who was there.

Me:  How would-

Sister:  That girl from the Real Life.  World.  Life.  Something like that.  You know?  The...... I forgot her name, but it was definitely her. 

Pregnant Chick:  I remember her.

Ha!!!!!

At work last night my friend and I went to get coffee and came back with one for our crackhead buddy. He was in his van. Two janitors were outside sitting on the curb talking to him, some skinny meth addict guy and a really short muscly dude who I hear sings in a band. The new manager was there, leaning against the van all cool and telling a story about two chicks he was with or something. Since this guy claimed to be *our company* for life, I've had trouble taking him seriously. He was offended when I handed my crackhead buddy his coffee.

"What's this?"

"What's what?"

"What's this?"

"What's what?"

"This?"

"What?"

I mimicked his lean at this point, getting comfortable.

"Jeeze. You get him a coffee, and not me?"

"You wanted a coffee?"

"Oh, don't worry about it."

He retreated from the lean.

"I'm worried about it now that you've brought it up."

"Well, yeah, I wanted a coffee."

"We didn't know."

"Well yeah, I want a coffee. I want a coffee everytime you go."

"And we'll go everytime?"

"I'll pay."

"Ahhh, ok. Now we're understood."

 Timaree: "What's wrong with you?"

me: "I pulled my back out."

Timaree: "Lies."

me: "I'm not lying!"

Timaree: "How?"

me: "Laundry basket."

Timaree: "Liar. Something must be wrong with you. Your 20, 20 year olds don't pull their back outs."

me: "I'm not lying!"

Timaree: "You look ridiculous. You can't even move! You should see yourself."

me: "I know!"

Timaree: "You have the bones of a 75 year old woman."

me: "Yup."

Timaree: "There was this commercial on T.V. today the old lady fell and couldn't get up. I think it was life alert. I laughed so hard."

me: "I need life alert."

Timaree: "Why?"

me: "I can't get up."

Tiimaree: "You liar, you're acting!"

I love the way soap feels.

What?

Soap. The way it feels. I love it.

Rearranging the sentence is not an adequate fucking explanation for the fucking bastard meaning, thing.

You know how things can smell pleasant? Taste pleasant? Have a pleasant aroma? This feels pleasant.

Your face will feel pleasant to my fist.

My face and my fist!

What, like in Fight Club?

Exactly!

You mean we - I - we are one - I mean...

Yes, I am talking to myself, in the second person, a sort of referential crisis.

Indeed.

Does this belong in this thread?

Ah, fuck it. Half of these people make this shit up.

Yeah.

They should make it funny. Then I'd believe them.

Yeah.

Stop agreeing with me.

....

....

No?

Ah, apologies, the Liar parodox.

We are so sophisticated.

Yes we are.

I love me.

Yes I do.

You going to read some more of Rubicon Beach now?

Yeah, it's a great book. Very much enjoying it. I am so damn sophisticated.

Yeah, and there's so much literature in the world!

Yes there is. Yes there is.

You're an asshole.

Yes I am.

You're not clever.

But I please myself, and for me, that's pleasure enough.

Hahah, you please yourself! You can't get a girlfriend!

I didn't mean it that way. And I could, I just choose not to.

As a defence mechanism kind of thing?

Not really.

Sure.

No, honestly, I cannot be bothered spending the couple of pence I've got on getting some tramp coffee.

You need to go out more.

I go out plenty.

With people.

I go out plenty with people.

No you do not.

I go out enough.

No, again, you do not.

How much should I go out.

Enough until you enjoy it.

But I don't! It makes me feel despondant. I don't like them and their fashions and their vaccuous-

Don't be pretentious. You feel better than them and rationalise it on meaningless terms. We all enjoy certain fashions, certain walks of life, whether they're novels of a certain calibre and genre or musicians. We all dream and we all want to be recognised and loved. This is true without exception, whether we bolster this want for recognition behind 'art' or reality tv. Other people out there like Requiem for a Dream, you know.

Yes. But I like it in a different way. I have a deeper understanding of it!

No you do-fucking-not. You wanker. You make me laugh. I mean, really, shit, what are you on about?

They're dumb.

You're dumb.

Smart enough to know it though!

Smart enough to waste what time you've been allocated on this planet to nonsensical musings, empty loathing - and you know you only started smoking for the sake of being a smoker. You are every inch as vaccuous as the so-called fashionistas and starbucks journalists. You're almost eighteen. Stop the fucking meandering. Halt yourself in this dream of leaving behind everything and being the you you envision. Everyone dreams it. Everyone wastes their life. Everyone dies.

Now we're switching roles, a fatalistic attitude is a cop-out. That's a defense mechanism.

Maybe it is. What do you suggest?

Get a job. Go back to college. Read every second of everyday. Go outside. Live. Do not talk to the homeless again, talk to people who dream of more than their next bottle. Go to university. Get a higher paying job. You're comfortable alone, so make yourself uncomfortable. Don't throw yourself off a cliff just to seem like Ophelia.

No, no. Again though, the people of who dream of more than their next bottle, you know what they're dreaming of? Of the same smoke for the sake of it, meaningless shit. I should better myself by pretending to be unaware? By taking the moral low-ground? Some sort of double-bluff? Surely that's not all there is to it, a folding back in on oneself? There's got to be more than that - some way to break loose, a complete honesty and greatness and wholeness to be found in a new path rather than walking backwards in the wrong direction of a one-way street?

Walking backwards in the wrong direction of a one-way street? You are an arsehole of magnificent proportions.

So what? Be humble. Fuck being humble. Humility gets you shit. You don't ask for a slice of cake you don't get a slice of cake. You learnt that when you were four.

Eurgh. I'd wash my hands of this discussion but that'd leave us right where we started. Fuck it. You're an idiot, I can't stand speaking with you.

Him:     Aren't you too young to drink?

Me:     I'm not.  I'm just holding this.

Him:     Sure.

Me:     Really.  It's from 2002, I'd probably die if I drank it.

Him:     Oh.  Seriously?

Yeah seriously.  It appears it was on sale.  Label said "Good for 180 days." After September 2, 2002.  It looked like a Guinness and had those paper lables.

Him:     Well that's weird.

Me:     Yep.

Him:     Wanna dance?

Me:     ..... no.

Him:     K.

And thus ends my short and torrid love affair with that one guy.  I didn't really catch the name.

Touching story, Jessica.

I don't remember mine word by word. But this torrid affair conversation went somewhat like this:

Setting, Buenos Aires, (I think it was 2004) We were classmates. She was blonde and pretty. I was just the opposite. I arrived late, so I couldn't sit where I usually did (with my best friend) but the seat next to her (the girl) was available.

Me: ¿Puedo sentarme acá? (May I sit here?)

Girl: Sí. (Yes)

Class had already started. We worked in silence.

Girl: ¿Me prestás la goma? (Can I borrow your eraser?)

Me: Sí, claro. (Sure)

She smiles at me. I realize I hadn't paid full attention to her beauty.

Me: ¿Cómo te llamás? (What's your name?)

Girl: Julieta

Me: Ah... (with a stupid look on my face)

I think: "You're not only pretty, you also have a beautiful name"

Me: Ah...ok (supid look still on my face)

The scene repeated pretty much the same for a month or so. Everybody in the class knew we were falling for each other. Her birthday arrived (March the... something) and I gave her roses and a letter; half b-day card, half love letter. After class I saw her home. She thanked me with a tender kiss on the lips. I felt like bursting in flames. I couldn't sleep that night. Unluckily, things didn't turn out that good... but the feelings of those days will never leave. I can always recall what I felt like... as light as the roses' petals... the conversation however will always be the most stupid one I ever held with a girl.

Me: I killed those two ants.

Sister: Why?

Me: They were crawling on the table there. There's bugs everywhere.

Sister: So? They're ants. What do you want them to do?

Me: I don't want insects running around our kitchen stealing food.

Sister: They're ants. That's what they do.

Me: I don't know if you realized this, but they're running all over the place. They have to be stopped.

Sister: Give me a break. Deal with it. Insects are a part of life.

Me: This is our house...

Sister: They're a part of life.

Me: So is death. I'm introducing them to that part of life.

Fuck bugs, walking all over like they own the place.

HAHAHA damn thats the funniest thing ive heard all day.

You dont really need the details that will follow in order for me to give you this actual conversation, but I think they'll help set the scene a little bit (tle).

It was a million degrees and I was sitting on my bed covered in a wet towel trying to keep cool while I watched Highlander. It was about 11pm and the show was just ending when Clinee, one of my roommates knocked on my (open) door to ask if I had any spare booze. While, of course, I did, I only had some cheap whiskey, and even still only enough for a few shots. And that just wouldnt do. Especially for a girl who will only drink straight vodka or rum. So she asked if I was down for a run to the liquor store down the street. A mission? Why certainly. So I suggested we invite our other roommate, Charlotte. I changed, grabbed my bag and we were off.

No sooner had we left the steps of our apartment than were we hooted at by the neighbors. Clinee was already slightly buzzed and promptly started telling them that they knew where she lived. We round the corner onto Cermak and waved at the prostitutes sitting there. Again we were cat called, this time by a passing car, and Clinee made the comment that she thanks God every day that she has a white roommate. When I asked why she told me that the "natives" wouldnt dare assault them while I was present.  The best they could do would be to yell lewd things at us.

We get to the liquor store only to find that its closed. Clinee almost breaks down in tears but we pat her back and reassure her that theres more than one way to get drunk at 1130 at night in Little Village. We continue a few more blocks until we hit the bar. I dont know what its called but it just might be the seediest place Ive ever been to.

As soon as we stepped in we realized that Clinee and Char were the only black people in the place and I was the only white one. Not to mention that we were the only people under 30. The doorman pulled three stools over to the sidebar and we sat down. No, Charlotte, it doesnt look like they serve Long Island Iced Teas or really... much else. Rum for them and a beer for myself.

Shortly after the third round and deep into a discussion about Hilary, a man in his mid to late 40s comes up behind Clinee. He's dressed in denim shorts and a sleeveless soccer jersey. His face is incredibly pock marked:

Him- something something something cerveza?

Clinee (deadpan)- We dont know what youre saying.

Me- I think he wants to buy us a beer

Charlotte to us- Do we want that? We're not prostitutes.

Charlotte to him- No gracias. We're not prostitutes!

Me to Charlotte- Dont say it to him in Spanish!

Clinee hits me and points at Char- Thank you! Tell him to speak English!

Char to him- Speak English!

Him- No Engles

Char- We're not prostitutes!

Him- Uno! Uno cerveza!

Char- No grac... we're not prostitutes!

The bartender comes over to us

Clinee to the bartender- Tell him we dont want drinks... I dont want him to think well sleep with him

The bartender tells us that he just wants to buy us drinks.

Me to Clinee- Clinee, free drinks are always a good thing...

I nod the affirmative and another round is brought over.

We thank him and promptly ignore him. But he wont go away. In fact, he calls over (now get this) a mariachi guy to serenade us! Well, me mostly.

Mariachi to me- something something encanta! tegustame (or somesuch)

He hugs me and leaves. The old man is about four inches from Clinee and looking over her shoulder. He cant understand a word we're saying but he laughs any time we do. I assume he cant understand us because we're talking about him.

He buys us two more rounds and asks me to dance. By now the music has kicked in and there are couples dancing all over the place. I politely decline and we all start talking again. Right along with the old man laughing with us.

Haha. Little Village, huh? Nice.

Was he something like-

?

Hahahaha!!!

Nice story...next time you want to get rid of someone say. "¡¡¡¡Salí de acá la re-concha de tu madre, pelotudo de mierda!!!!"

Don't get scared if a bar fight starts; Latinos are very violent...

I dont think I want to say anything with the words "tu madre" in it!

This morning I have the displeasure of working with the old lady that usually works the midnight shift. She is working the day shift while the new girl gets trained on her shift. Anyway, I never had much of a problem with the old lady until I started working wth her. She has to be the most annoying person ever. If she isn't sucking air thru her teeth every 5 seconds, she is clearing her throat. She's always asking questions and when you answer them she always follows up the answer with "I thought so." If you thought so, then why ask!?! She really needs to be placed back into the midnight shift.

Anyway, this was a conversation we had earlier today.

Old Lady: I have a call to give out, is Bill available.

Me: No, he is still on the walk-in.

OL: Well, I thought so, but in the computer you have him marked as clear that call.

Me: Technically he is done talking to the complainant, but he is in here following up on some info.

OL: So I can't give him the call?

Me: ... There's two other guys out on the street that are available.

OL: But it's in his zone.

Me: (irritated) He's not available.

OL: I thought so.

She then waits another 2-3 minutes before she finally gives it to another guy.

Help.

I used to work with a woman just like that. Her name is Peggy. I offered her muffins and she lightened up. You could always give her the "I thought so" back.

"Conversation" between me and the refrigerator men. There were three of them but two were translating:

We've got a problem. My refrigerator is still broken. My food has been warming for the past 16 hours. You said youd be at my house by 9am.

Oh, you refrigerador broke? Adda house (points in the direction of my house)

Yeah. For the past few days.

I feex. I bring new part.

No. I want a new refrigerator. Like you said youd bring on Saturday.

Use.

I cant use it. Its broken

Sang color.

Oh yeah, I dont care if its the same color or not. As long as it works.

Een store.

I want it in my house.

I breeng. 2 o'clock

2 o'clock.

as I walk away the oldest yells "Ella ella ella". I dont know what that means.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=o-MnPSSeBsI

 John: Josh R.

Aaron: He fucked Gray's Aunt.

John: No way!

Aaron: Yep, that fat bastard.

Me: Oh, that movie has Philip Seymour Hoffman. Steve, did you see "Capote"?

Steve: No. Is that a movie?

Me: Yeah, it's based on the life of Truman Capote.

Steve: Is that...a guy?

Me:.............yes. He wrote "In Cold Blood."

Steve: I've never heard of that. Dawn, have you ever heard of that?

Dawn: Nope, I haven't.

Me: He invented the nonfiction novel. When he wrote that.

Steve: Oh.

[pause]

Steve: So Dawn, who won on "The Bachelor"?

THIS IS WHAT MY LIFE IS LIKE.

I went out after work to play some cards by my cousin's house. I got there and they were just about done playing the first gave of hold 'em. They had been playing cards for about two hours by the time I got there and been drinking for a little bit longer. Going into the next game I knew that I'd have a slight advantage on the drunks. I was right and I won the second game pretty easily. Anyway this was some of the convo with my really drunk, cousin Pablo during the final and winning hand.

Pablo: (slurred) I check.

Me: It's my call to check first.

Pablo: (slurred) Well check the hand then.

Me: What if I don't want to check?

Pablo: (slurred) Do what you want I... I...I'm going to win anyways.

Me: This isn't even fun anymore.

Pablo: (mumbly spitty talk) I know cuz I'm going to kick your assssssss.

Me: This is like meeting a really drunk chick and taking advantage of her.

Pablo: (loud slurring) I'm going to make you a drunk chick. I'M ALL IN!!!!!!!!!!

Me: Hahaha. What? Okay, I'm all in also.

Pablo: What?

Me: I'm all in.

Pablo:......... Okay what you got?

Chuy deals the flop and it was a 5 of hearts, a King of diamonds and a ten of clubs. I show my hand where I have a queen, ten.

Me: So far I have a pair of tens.

Pablo shows his hand an has two low diamonds.

Pablo: Ha! I have three diamonds!

Chuy: It's not done yet. We still need to see 4th and 5th street.

Pablo: (hic) I know so I can get my flussshhhhhh.

Chuy deals the next two cards and one is a club and the other is a spade, making me the winner.

Pablo: No way!!!!

Me: If this was a night out at a bar, I'd be putting my pants back on right about now.

Pablo: (all butthurt) You took advantage of me.

Chuy: That's what she said!

I have this image in my head of you guys playing cards like this scene from Training Day.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2FFhuJpXY2M

Frank is the cop in this though. Fucking cop. Also, that t-shirt is worn so much of the time, it's absurd. Same with the tie and cuff-hanky set, though mostly the tie because I don't have a jacket (yet!!) - and watch too. Also always using the pen and those pads. Those presents were like tailored to perfection. Fuckin A - on spot. You're still a cop though. Also, my little brother took Francis for his confirmation, after my Grandad more so than you, but I'd like to think a little of it is you.

where has this brave soul gone?

I had this really cool roommate during college. He's moving away to South Carolina, but he was pretty awesome. This is a conversation from uh, my other roommate. The annoying fucking hippy and two guys he was selling weed to. It sounds like something from a movie, but I assure you this is genuine. I was sitting inches away looking over a chapter from a book I'm writing when this conversation took place.

Roommate: Yo dude, I smoked an L last night and got so fucked up, I'm not even joking, it was the highest I've ever got.

Kid #1: Yea?

Kid #2: Sweet dude

Roommate: Yea man, my boy Derek, he got some medicinal shit. I swear to god it was the most potent shit I ever had.

Kid #2: Yea sweet, I hear that shit's strong.

Roommate: Yea word. But listen, I'm getting a piss test next week from my parole officer, so I'm gonna be quitting today.

Kid #1: O yea, fer real? You're quitting this?

Roommate: Yea man. It sucks cause I'm not even supposed to be on parole.

Kid #2: What are you going to do, you think?

Roommate: I dunno, man. I think I'm just gonna start doing all the things I've wanted to do with my life, you know? I'm gonna write a book. Start writing a book tomorrow.

Kid #2: O yea, nice, sweet dude.

Kid #1: Yeah I'm definitely gonna write a book someday too. Because, you know, I'm just gonna have so many stories to tell, you know?

Roommate: Word. Yea, so, gimme a call if you need any more. I'll hook you up.

Kid #2: Yea sweet, thanks man. Peace.

Roommate: Peace.

 Plato's Closet: (I had a very bad day, and it resulted in this). 

Cashier: Sorry, we can't take your clothes they smell like smoke.

Me: Can't you wash them? I mean--shouldn't' you wash them?

Cashier: We do wash them and also do dry clean.

Me: So, what's the problem then?

Cashier: ...We can take your tank tops but it'll only be a 1.50 each.

Me(leans in): ....Do they smell like marijuana smoke?

Cashier:...uhh...

Me: Okay, whatever. Stupid place, bye.

I take my stuff back, and as i was walking out....

Cashier(whispers):...Bitch.