J-man: Bubba and Lolli! Sittin' in a tree! K-S-S-S-I-N-G!
(Writer's note: Lolli is a little girl, in Bubba's class, on whom Bubba is crushing. He says he's going to marry her. I say I'm going to have to go talk to this little girl's mother. And have me a stiff drink.)
Me: No, that's K-*I*-S-S-I-N-G.
J-man: I SAID THAT! K-S-S-S-I-N-G.
Me: No. Sweetie. K-*I*-S-S...
J-man: Extremely frustrated. I. SAID. THAT!
Me: No, you didn't. Ksssing isn't a word. You spell kissing with an *i*.
J-man: I know that, Mama! I said *i*! K-S-S-S-I-N-G!
Me: Did you just hear yourself? There aren't three s's in kissing! Just two! And two i's!
J-man: Shaking his head in a condescending manner, much the way Neil deGrasse Tyson does to all the evolution haters. Mama. I spelled it with two i's. You didn't hear me right.
Me: I REALIZE YOU ALL THINK I'M A DAFT COW, BUT I KNOW YOU JUST SPELLED KSSSING! AND THAT DRIVES ME BATTY!
Ya'll, I'm dead serious. If you'd like to get in touch with me, I'll be in the local psych ward, trying to convince myself that ksssing spells kissing and that 2 + 2 really does equal 5.
Showing posts with label dialog. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dialog. Show all posts
05 March 2013
21 May 2012
Dialog, Part 33
Scene: Me, at the Mall of Georgia, shopping with my sorority sister Toni and her step-daughter Lulu. We're in Aerie, that American Eagle lingerie store. Like teenagers need lingerie. But, who am I to shout at the wind?
Saleslady to me and Toni: Can I help you ladies with anything?
Toni: Nope, we're just waiting on our daughter.
Saleslady: o_O *Walks off*
Toni: o_O... Did I just say that out loud?
Me: YES YOU DID! You realize that Lulu looks like you, so she thinks you're the egg donor/woman in the relationship.
Toni: So?
Me: I'M THE ONE LOOKING AT THE BOY SHORTS! That means I'm the butch.
Toni: *Grinning furiously*
Me: *Stomping off to find high heels and makeup*
Saleslady to me and Toni: Can I help you ladies with anything?
Toni: Nope, we're just waiting on our daughter.
Saleslady: o_O *Walks off*
Toni: o_O... Did I just say that out loud?
Me: YES YOU DID! You realize that Lulu looks like you, so she thinks you're the egg donor/woman in the relationship.
Toni: So?
Me: I'M THE ONE LOOKING AT THE BOY SHORTS! That means I'm the butch.
Toni: *Grinning furiously*
Me: *Stomping off to find high heels and makeup*
01 July 2011
Dialog, Part 32
OR
NO ONE TOLD ME THERE WOULD BE SWELLING!?!?
OR
MY PLASTIC SURGEON IS SUCH A SMART-ASS
OR
HOLY CRAP!? I HAVE A PLASTIC SURGEON! I'M SO BEVERLY HILLS RIGHT NOW!
Me (in email to my doctor): Your assistant recommended that I email pictures to you of my post-surgery swelling since my surgery on Monday. I’ve never had this type of surgery before and I don’t want to be a Nervous Nelly, but I want to make sure nothing is going wrong. I’ve attached three pictures of my face, one of the incision. There is no redness, drainage, heat, or fever associated with the incision. Just excessive swelling. Is this normal and at what point will it subside? Thanks for your help! Heather
Dr. Smart-Ass: Heather, the lesion I removed was a lot deeper than I anticipated. Therefore, I'm not surprised you have the swelling you are experiencing. Rest assured, you should be fine and the swelling should get better soon. Keep your head elevated when you can and it should get better.
Me: Thanks so very much for your response. I'll hang in there and just wanted to make sure everything was fine. I'll just tell everyone I'm trying out for a remake of The Elephant Man. :)
Dr. Smart-Ass: You're a shoe in for the part. ;)
Seriously? My doctor ROCKS!
NO ONE TOLD ME THERE WOULD BE SWELLING!?!?
OR
MY PLASTIC SURGEON IS SUCH A SMART-ASS
OR
HOLY CRAP!? I HAVE A PLASTIC SURGEON! I'M SO BEVERLY HILLS RIGHT NOW!
Me (in email to my doctor): Your assistant recommended that I email pictures to you of my post-surgery swelling since my surgery on Monday. I’ve never had this type of surgery before and I don’t want to be a Nervous Nelly, but I want to make sure nothing is going wrong. I’ve attached three pictures of my face, one of the incision. There is no redness, drainage, heat, or fever associated with the incision. Just excessive swelling. Is this normal and at what point will it subside? Thanks for your help! Heather
Dr. Smart-Ass: Heather, the lesion I removed was a lot deeper than I anticipated. Therefore, I'm not surprised you have the swelling you are experiencing. Rest assured, you should be fine and the swelling should get better soon. Keep your head elevated when you can and it should get better.
Me: Thanks so very much for your response. I'll hang in there and just wanted to make sure everything was fine. I'll just tell everyone I'm trying out for a remake of The Elephant Man. :)
Dr. Smart-Ass: You're a shoe in for the part. ;)
Seriously? My doctor ROCKS!
06 February 2011
Dialog, Part 31
OR
YEP, IT'S MY 39th BIRTHDAY
Miss-Miss: Let's play I-Spy! OK. I spy, wiff my little eye, somefing purple!
Me: Hmmmm, the pillow?
Miss-Miss: NO! The sunroom!
Me: OK. My turn. I spy, with my little eye, something pink.
Miss-Miss: My shirt! *Giggling* I spy, wiff my little eye, somefing gray!
Me: *Puzzled* Huh. OK. *Looking around.* The TV?
Miss-Miss: NO! Your hair!
Me: *Facepalm*
Yeah, I'm getting older. As of this moment, I have entered the final year of my 30s. There are only 365 more days left to be as close to "Young and Hip" as I'll ever be. All too soon, I'll be knocking on the door marked "Old Fart."
Being on this cusp is weird. There's a constant inner monologue going on that I, at times, wish would shut the fuck up. Moments when my brain screams Run that extra mile, woman! It's good for you! and my knees and hips reply Oh, sure. Go right ahead, honey. But we'll make sure you pay for it all next week. My brain and body seem to be going their separate ways, constantly. Like, for example, my brain screams Oh! YEAH! Feel that rhythm! Dance, baby! and my ears scream Turn that crap down! Do you think the entire neighborhood wants to listen to that garbage? I swear, it's like I'm a psychic medium but the only spirit I'm channeling is my father. And finally, there are those moments of watching the neighborhood kids play kickball in our cul-de-sac, using our driveway as home plate, when I think Oh, looks like they're having a great time! and yet I find myself clamping my hand over my mouth because all it wants to shout is Get off my lawn you pesky, good-fer-nuthin' kids!
I don't get it, this dichotomy of getting old. My brain is convinced, absolutely, positively, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I'm 19*. But I know when others look at me, especially those who truly are 19, that I'm not. I see it in the mirror when I look at those gray hairs that so prominently stand out to Miss-Miss, and I feel it when I do run that extra mile.
I don't like it. But, I'm going to fight it, every damned step of the way. I will not age gracefully. I will age fighting.
So, happy birthday to me, dammit, and my ability to be 39 in body, but 19 in spirit!
* I would have to say that looking back at all of my ages, 19 was my favorite. I was out of the house, away from the parents, in college, had a bunch of friends, and was having the time of my life, all still with a happy view of the world. Yeah, 19 was the best.
YEP, IT'S MY 39th BIRTHDAY
Miss-Miss: Let's play I-Spy! OK. I spy, wiff my little eye, somefing purple!
Me: Hmmmm, the pillow?
Miss-Miss: NO! The sunroom!
Me: OK. My turn. I spy, with my little eye, something pink.
Miss-Miss: My shirt! *Giggling* I spy, wiff my little eye, somefing gray!
Me: *Puzzled* Huh. OK. *Looking around.* The TV?
Miss-Miss: NO! Your hair!
Me: *Facepalm*
Yeah, I'm getting older. As of this moment, I have entered the final year of my 30s. There are only 365 more days left to be as close to "Young and Hip" as I'll ever be. All too soon, I'll be knocking on the door marked "Old Fart."
Being on this cusp is weird. There's a constant inner monologue going on that I, at times, wish would shut the fuck up. Moments when my brain screams Run that extra mile, woman! It's good for you! and my knees and hips reply Oh, sure. Go right ahead, honey. But we'll make sure you pay for it all next week. My brain and body seem to be going their separate ways, constantly. Like, for example, my brain screams Oh! YEAH! Feel that rhythm! Dance, baby! and my ears scream Turn that crap down! Do you think the entire neighborhood wants to listen to that garbage? I swear, it's like I'm a psychic medium but the only spirit I'm channeling is my father. And finally, there are those moments of watching the neighborhood kids play kickball in our cul-de-sac, using our driveway as home plate, when I think Oh, looks like they're having a great time! and yet I find myself clamping my hand over my mouth because all it wants to shout is Get off my lawn you pesky, good-fer-nuthin' kids!
I don't get it, this dichotomy of getting old. My brain is convinced, absolutely, positively, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I'm 19*. But I know when others look at me, especially those who truly are 19, that I'm not. I see it in the mirror when I look at those gray hairs that so prominently stand out to Miss-Miss, and I feel it when I do run that extra mile.
I don't like it. But, I'm going to fight it, every damned step of the way. I will not age gracefully. I will age fighting.
So, happy birthday to me, dammit, and my ability to be 39 in body, but 19 in spirit!
* I would have to say that looking back at all of my ages, 19 was my favorite. I was out of the house, away from the parents, in college, had a bunch of friends, and was having the time of my life, all still with a happy view of the world. Yeah, 19 was the best.
15 June 2010
Dialog, Part 30
Kroger Cashier: Blue and orange nail polish? Wow, you're into the weird colors, aren't you?
Me: It's not for me, it's for my kids.
KC: Gives me the stink-eye.
Me: My sons.
KC: Gives me the stink-eye with raised eyebrows.
Me: They're four and three.
KC: Oh, well, then it's OK.
Me: Yeah, they saw their sister getting hot pink toes and they wanted hot pink toes and their father said Over my dead body! and I said Well, what about blue? and the youngest chanted Blue! Blue! and his older brother said I want orangschsssse!
KC: You know, I paint my brother's toenails.
Me: Oh, what? Is he like, five?
KC: Nope. He's 23.
Me: Well, OK. I don't feel so weird then.
KC: Lady, you're buying "Candy Corn" and "Blue Streak" nail polish, for your toddler sons, at a Kroger, at 11:30 PM.
Me: Yeah, there is that.
Me: It's not for me, it's for my kids.
KC: Gives me the stink-eye.
Me: My sons.
KC: Gives me the stink-eye with raised eyebrows.
Me: They're four and three.
KC: Oh, well, then it's OK.
Me: Yeah, they saw their sister getting hot pink toes and they wanted hot pink toes and their father said Over my dead body! and I said Well, what about blue? and the youngest chanted Blue! Blue! and his older brother said I want orangschsssse!
KC: You know, I paint my brother's toenails.
Me: Oh, what? Is he like, five?
KC: Nope. He's 23.
Me: Well, OK. I don't feel so weird then.
KC: Lady, you're buying "Candy Corn" and "Blue Streak" nail polish, for your toddler sons, at a Kroger, at 11:30 PM.
Me: Yeah, there is that.
19 March 2010
Kids Say the Most F'ed Up Things
Setting 1: Ty-man is in the sunroom playing "traffic jam" with kids. This means they've taken all their collectible Chevron cars from Nana and have lined them up. I walk in.
Ty-man: Do you know what your daughter just said?!?
Me: What?
Ty-man: She drove her pink convertible up to this car and said, "Get out of my way, stupid lady!" I told her that isn't nice and not how we talk to people.
Me: Yeah. She got that from me. I'll own that.
Ty-man: Glowering
Me: Hey, I've really cleaned up my language. This time five years ago, instead of saying "Get out of my way, stupid lady!" I was screaming "Move your fucking ass you fucking cow!"
Ty-man: There is that.
Scene 2: We're in the car driving back to the house. It's evening and the stars are out.
Ty-man: Look! There's Venus!
J-man: Where's the penis?
Ty-man and Me: Laughing so hard we can barely breathe.
J-man: Completely confused. Where's the penis?
Ty-man: Do you know what your daughter just said?!?
Me: What?
Ty-man: She drove her pink convertible up to this car and said, "Get out of my way, stupid lady!" I told her that isn't nice and not how we talk to people.
Me: Yeah. She got that from me. I'll own that.
Ty-man: Glowering
Me: Hey, I've really cleaned up my language. This time five years ago, instead of saying "Get out of my way, stupid lady!" I was screaming "Move your fucking ass you fucking cow!"
Ty-man: There is that.
Scene 2: We're in the car driving back to the house. It's evening and the stars are out.
Ty-man: Look! There's Venus!
J-man: Where's the penis?
Ty-man and Me: Laughing so hard we can barely breathe.
J-man: Completely confused. Where's the penis?
09 March 2010
Dialog, Part 29
Writer's Note: Yeah, yeah. Cats can't talk. But if mine did? This is pretty much what he'd be saying.
Andy: Mom? We need to talk.
Me: What about, hon?
Andy: See, I'm the oldest kid and even though I'm furry, walk on four legs, and am the equivalent of a 62-year-old human (Which, by the way, I'm still waiting for my Just-For-Cats, a convertible Corvette, and a trophy wife even though my parts don't work but, no rush. Just, you know, before I die.) I would really like to live out the rest of my life without the hairless monkey brats.
Me: Now, Andy. They're not brats.
Andy: Whining BUT THEY ARE! And I don't like them. They scream my name and chase me around the house.
Me: You're over-exaggerating. They don't chase you around the house. You run too fast for them. They chase you for two feet and you're already halfway to Vegas.
Andy: Whatever. I've taken the liberty of calling the local no-kill shelter. They said you could drop the monkeys off tomorrow afternoon.
Me: WHAT?!? I'm not dropping my children off at a no-kill shelter! You are out of your damned mind!
Andy: Me?!? I'm not crazy. You're the one who pushed kids out of her... you know... then proceeded to allow them to latch on to her... you know... and listen to them squall and fuss for over four years! GAH! Just promise me you won't miss that appointment I made for you at the vet.
Me: What appointment?
Andy: To have you fixed.
Me: ANDREW!!!!!!
Andy: Running to Vegas. Nothing left but a puff of fur.
Andy: Mom? We need to talk.
Me: What about, hon?
Andy: See, I'm the oldest kid and even though I'm furry, walk on four legs, and am the equivalent of a 62-year-old human (Which, by the way, I'm still waiting for my Just-For-Cats, a convertible Corvette, and a trophy wife even though my parts don't work but, no rush. Just, you know, before I die.) I would really like to live out the rest of my life without the hairless monkey brats.
Me: Now, Andy. They're not brats.
Andy: Whining BUT THEY ARE! And I don't like them. They scream my name and chase me around the house.
Me: You're over-exaggerating. They don't chase you around the house. You run too fast for them. They chase you for two feet and you're already halfway to Vegas.
Andy: Whatever. I've taken the liberty of calling the local no-kill shelter. They said you could drop the monkeys off tomorrow afternoon.
Me: WHAT?!? I'm not dropping my children off at a no-kill shelter! You are out of your damned mind!
Andy: Me?!? I'm not crazy. You're the one who pushed kids out of her... you know... then proceeded to allow them to latch on to her... you know... and listen to them squall and fuss for over four years! GAH! Just promise me you won't miss that appointment I made for you at the vet.
Me: What appointment?
Andy: To have you fixed.
Me: ANDREW!!!!!!
Andy: Running to Vegas. Nothing left but a puff of fur.
13 January 2010
Dialog, Part 28
Me: In bed, trying to relax, watching Ty-man read through a draft of his company's proposal. Um, so how's it going?
Ty-man: OK.
Me: How many pages is it?
Ty-man: 105. But we need to trim it down.
Me: Wait a minute. How long was the customer's proposal request?
Ty-man: ...
Me: Exactly. My point. Those f*ckers can manage to read 105 measly pages. In fact, let's add one more page depicting my bare ass on a copy machine and make it one-oh-six.
Ty-man: Done.
Ty-man: OK.
Me: How many pages is it?
Ty-man: 105. But we need to trim it down.
Me: Wait a minute. How long was the customer's proposal request?
Ty-man: ...
Me: Exactly. My point. Those f*ckers can manage to read 105 measly pages. In fact, let's add one more page depicting my bare ass on a copy machine and make it one-oh-six.
Ty-man: Done.
03 November 2009
Dialog, Part 27
Bubba: I love my Scarlet Macaw*! She's such a sweet person!
Me: She is sweet, but she's not a person.
Bubba: ?
Me: Scarlet Macaws are birds. You are a person.
Bubba: No, I Bubba.
Me: Yes, you're Bubba, but you're also a person. Just like I'm a person, Papa is a person, Nana is a person, Grandma is a person.
Bubba: No, I Bubba. I a handsome devil like my Papa**.
Me: Snorting and doubled over Yes, darlin', yes you are!
* It's a resin figurine hanging in the kids' bathroom. It gets kissed and loved on. A lot.
** He has a graphic t-shirt from Old Navy that has that printed on the front. He's quite proud of it. Obviously.
Me: She is sweet, but she's not a person.
Bubba: ?
Me: Scarlet Macaws are birds. You are a person.
Bubba: No, I Bubba.
Me: Yes, you're Bubba, but you're also a person. Just like I'm a person, Papa is a person, Nana is a person, Grandma is a person.
Bubba: No, I Bubba. I a handsome devil like my Papa**.
Me: Snorting and doubled over Yes, darlin', yes you are!
* It's a resin figurine hanging in the kids' bathroom. It gets kissed and loved on. A lot.
** He has a graphic t-shirt from Old Navy that has that printed on the front. He's quite proud of it. Obviously.
10 September 2009
Dialog, Part 26
Ed. Note: DragonCon can be a wild and crazy place. Not only do you have Stormtroopers running around willy-nilly, there are superheros with guts, fairies with attitudes, wanna-be hobbits, and just a shit-ton of sci-fi/fantasy nerds and geeks all out for a good time. At night, the parties get cranking and here are a couple texts I exchanged with my sweet Stef, a fellow ghost hunter, out having a great time in the DragonCon melee. She wrote this post, people. She is teh funneh!
Stef: Caccacrazy!
Me: How many drinks have you had?
Stef: Yes
Stef: I mean idk - 5 vodka crans? A whole bottle of mojitos
Me: OMFG! How are you still standing?
Stef: Who knows
Stef: But I can still knock a bitch out. I Gots my boots on
Stef: Get to try walking soon! Wish ne luck
Two days later...
Stef: We went to a rainbow flag gay party and a WoW* party and Brett vag and cock blocked me twice! WTF!
* World of Warcraft for all you uneducated boobs.
Stef: Caccacrazy!
Me: How many drinks have you had?
Stef: Yes
Stef: I mean idk - 5 vodka crans? A whole bottle of mojitos
Me: OMFG! How are you still standing?
Stef: Who knows
Stef: But I can still knock a bitch out. I Gots my boots on
Stef: Get to try walking soon! Wish ne luck
Two days later...
Stef: We went to a rainbow flag gay party and a WoW* party and Brett vag and cock blocked me twice! WTF!
* World of Warcraft for all you uneducated boobs.
08 July 2009
Dialog, Part 25
All this took place while I was trying to take a quiet shower. Yeah, don't I wish.
Miss-Miss: Examining me with much scrutiny and looking at herself in the mirror. Mama. Do I have arms just like you?
Me: Yes.
Miss-Miss: And do I have feet just like you?
Me: Yep.
Miss-Miss: How 'bout my hands?
Me: Yes, honey, just like mine.
Miss-Miss: Pulling up her dress. And my nipples? And my vulva? Just like yours?
Me: With my shampoo-covered head in my hands, shaking so hard with laughter that I'm about to pee in the shower. Yes, honey. Just like mine.
Miss-Miss: Examining me with much scrutiny and looking at herself in the mirror. Mama. Do I have arms just like you?
Me: Yes.
Miss-Miss: And do I have feet just like you?
Me: Yep.
Miss-Miss: How 'bout my hands?
Me: Yes, honey, just like mine.
Miss-Miss: Pulling up her dress. And my nipples? And my vulva? Just like yours?
Me: With my shampoo-covered head in my hands, shaking so hard with laughter that I'm about to pee in the shower. Yes, honey. Just like mine.
26 May 2009
Dialog, Part 24
Pregnant Twin Mom on Bed Rest at the Hospital: I just love Matt Damon. I brought all his movies with me so I wouldn't get bored.
Me: That's awesome. Watch what you love and makes you happy!
PTMoBRatH: So what are your twins' names?
Me: Bubba and Miss-Miss. But, I did offer to name them Luke and Leia in honor of my George Lucas-obsessed husband.
PTMoBRatH: I wanted to name my son Matthew Damon Fudgesicle*, but my husband said there was no way his son was going to be named after his wife's celebrity fetish.
Me: Yeah, but if you had named your little boy Matt Damon Fiddlesticks, then you could have named his sister Sarah Silverman Fiddlesticks! Bonus! But then, there would have been that whole, Wait. They're brother and sister. But I thought Sarah was f**king Matt Damon?!
PTMoBRatH: Laughing so hard that, yes, her belly was jiggling. Oh, I can't wait to suggest that name combo to my husband!
And just for all of you, here it is again. Enjoy!
*Name has been changed to protect the fan girl in question.
Me: That's awesome. Watch what you love and makes you happy!
PTMoBRatH: So what are your twins' names?
Me: Bubba and Miss-Miss. But, I did offer to name them Luke and Leia in honor of my George Lucas-obsessed husband.
PTMoBRatH: I wanted to name my son Matthew Damon Fudgesicle*, but my husband said there was no way his son was going to be named after his wife's celebrity fetish.
Me: Yeah, but if you had named your little boy Matt Damon Fiddlesticks, then you could have named his sister Sarah Silverman Fiddlesticks! Bonus! But then, there would have been that whole, Wait. They're brother and sister. But I thought Sarah was f**king Matt Damon?!
PTMoBRatH: Laughing so hard that, yes, her belly was jiggling. Oh, I can't wait to suggest that name combo to my husband!
And just for all of you, here it is again. Enjoy!
*Name has been changed to protect the fan girl in question.
15 May 2009
The Lamest Post In The History Of Blogging
OR
Where The Hell Did My Afternoon Go?
Me: Well, that one's done. Toss the book I was reading onto the floor next to the bed.
Ty-man: Watching you read books is like watching a biker guzzle a beer and crush the can on his forehead.
Me: Yup. Just without the belching.
Where The Hell Did My Afternoon Go?
Me: Well, that one's done. Toss the book I was reading onto the floor next to the bed.
Ty-man: Watching you read books is like watching a biker guzzle a beer and crush the can on his forehead.
Me: Yup. Just without the belching.
08 May 2009
Oh My God. I'm A Geek.
Sitting in the theater last night before the Star Trek movie (ZOMG!!!! GO SEE IT!!! NOW!!!)...
Ty: Do you think Star Trek fans are as excited about this movie as Star Wars fans were before Phantom Menace came out?
Me: But you're a Star Trek and Star Wars fan. Aren't you as excited?
Ty: Yeah, but Star Wars fans are so much more avid in their love of their movies. More so, I think, than Star Trek fans.
Me: But, what you're saying is that Star Wars fans are better than Star Trek fans. And that's just elitist.
Ty: No. But Star Wars fans are on a different plane than Star Trek fans.
Me: What about LOTR fans?
Ty: Well, that's a completely different subject. They're on a completely different plateau than sci-fi people. Kind of like you Dune geeks.
Me: HEY! HEY! Don't go there! Don't mesh me and my kind in with that LOTR ilk!
Ty: Well, you know what I mean. You guys are just different.
Me: You know, Dave turned his Little Dave graphic into Paul Muad'Dib and I had a total geek out on his blog the other day. I want a Little Heather Fremen!
Ty: Would you be that chick...
Me: NO! I so wouldn't be Chani. I'd be a Bene Gesserit. Reverend Mother. Definitely.
Ty: Would you have to be a concubine?
Me: Probably. Almost all Bene Gesserits were part of the Kwisatz Haderach breeding program. So, I most likely would have to go off to some remote planet and shag some obscure member of the Landsraad.
Ty: Yeah.
Me: But I am infertile, so I would probably not be a breeding Bene Gesserit. But then again, Reverend Mothers could control their bodies with a thought, so I could cure my own PCOS! Bonus!
Ty: Blink
Me: Oh my God. I'm such a geek.
Ty: Yes. Yes you are.
Ty: Do you think Star Trek fans are as excited about this movie as Star Wars fans were before Phantom Menace came out?
Me: But you're a Star Trek and Star Wars fan. Aren't you as excited?
Ty: Yeah, but Star Wars fans are so much more avid in their love of their movies. More so, I think, than Star Trek fans.
Me: But, what you're saying is that Star Wars fans are better than Star Trek fans. And that's just elitist.
Ty: No. But Star Wars fans are on a different plane than Star Trek fans.
Me: What about LOTR fans?
Ty: Well, that's a completely different subject. They're on a completely different plateau than sci-fi people. Kind of like you Dune geeks.
Me: HEY! HEY! Don't go there! Don't mesh me and my kind in with that LOTR ilk!
Ty: Well, you know what I mean. You guys are just different.
Me: You know, Dave turned his Little Dave graphic into Paul Muad'Dib and I had a total geek out on his blog the other day. I want a Little Heather Fremen!
Ty: Would you be that chick...
Me: NO! I so wouldn't be Chani. I'd be a Bene Gesserit. Reverend Mother. Definitely.
Ty: Would you have to be a concubine?
Me: Probably. Almost all Bene Gesserits were part of the Kwisatz Haderach breeding program. So, I most likely would have to go off to some remote planet and shag some obscure member of the Landsraad.
Ty: Yeah.
Me: But I am infertile, so I would probably not be a breeding Bene Gesserit. But then again, Reverend Mothers could control their bodies with a thought, so I could cure my own PCOS! Bonus!
Ty: Blink
Me: Oh my God. I'm such a geek.
Ty: Yes. Yes you are.
13 April 2009
Dialog, Part 23
The conversation while driving back from the grandparents' house this Easter Sunday:
J-man: Mama! Hold me!
Me: I can't, honey, we're in the car. Mama and Papa would go to jail if I held you and you would have to go live with another family.
Ty-man: And Mama and Papa would have to sleep on hard concrete beds.
Me: And there's no conjugal visits in prison.
Ty-man: Yeah, and those concrete beds would hurt Papa's back.
Me: No chiropractors in prison.
Ty-man: Nope.
Me: Except for that murderer rapist you meet in the shower stall.
Ty-man: "Drop that soap and I'll take care of that L5 vertebra for ya!"
J-man: Mama! Hold me!
Me: I can't, honey, we're in the car. Mama and Papa would go to jail if I held you and you would have to go live with another family.
Ty-man: And Mama and Papa would have to sleep on hard concrete beds.
Me: And there's no conjugal visits in prison.
Ty-man: Yeah, and those concrete beds would hurt Papa's back.
Me: No chiropractors in prison.
Ty-man: Nope.
Me: Except for that murderer rapist you meet in the shower stall.
Ty-man: "Drop that soap and I'll take care of that L5 vertebra for ya!"
18 March 2009
Dialog, Part 22
HOA President: So, little Miss So-and-So e-mailed me complaining about the tennis courts AGAIN and I told her that instead of asking the Board to fix it, she should volunteer and fix it herself. Much more proactive, don't you think?
HOA Vice-President: Well, what is So-and-So's problem, anyway? She's always stirring up trouble, complaining about something.
Prez: She's a stay-at-home-mom who walks around with her little Starbucks coffee cups and has way too much time on her hands.
VP: Oh.
Me: Looking down at J-man on my lap and the Starbucks travel mug in my hand. Well! She should just start a blog, shouldn't she?!?
HOA Vice-President: Well, what is So-and-So's problem, anyway? She's always stirring up trouble, complaining about something.
Prez: She's a stay-at-home-mom who walks around with her little Starbucks coffee cups and has way too much time on her hands.
VP: Oh.
Me: Looking down at J-man on my lap and the Starbucks travel mug in my hand. Well! She should just start a blog, shouldn't she?!?
23 February 2009
Dialog, Part 21
J-man: Where go-going?
Me: We're going to Bubba's and Miss-Miss's school to pick them up!
J-man: 'Kay!
2 minutes later...
J-man: Where go-going?
Me: Remember, sweetie? I said we're going to go get Bubba and Miss-Miss from school!
J-man: 'Kay!
1 minute later...
J-man: Where go-going?
Me: Slightly exasperated. To pick up Bubba and Miss-Miss!
J-man: 'Kay!
30 seconds later...
J-man: Where go...
Me: TO GET YOUR BROTHER AND SISTER!!!! GAH! Pant, pant, pant.
J-man: 'Kay!
2 minutes later...
J-man: Where go-going?
Me: Muttering. To Crazy Town, m'dear. Where Mama is going to turn in her Sanity Card.
J-man: WHERE GOING?!?
Me: We're going to Bubba's and Miss-Miss's school to pick them up!
J-man: 'Kay!
2 minutes later...
J-man: Where go-going?
Me: Remember, sweetie? I said we're going to go get Bubba and Miss-Miss from school!
J-man: 'Kay!
1 minute later...
J-man: Where go-going?
Me: Slightly exasperated. To pick up Bubba and Miss-Miss!
J-man: 'Kay!
30 seconds later...
J-man: Where go...
Me: TO GET YOUR BROTHER AND SISTER!!!! GAH! Pant, pant, pant.
J-man: 'Kay!
2 minutes later...
J-man: Where go-going?
Me: Muttering. To Crazy Town, m'dear. Where Mama is going to turn in her Sanity Card.
J-man: WHERE GOING?!?
28 January 2009
Dialog, Part 20
Miss-Miss: Mama, my feet are tired!
Me: They are? Well, my feet are tired, too!
Miss-Miss: And my legs are tired!
Me: Really? Well, my hands are tired!
Bubba: My head is tired!
Me: My eyeballs are tired!
J-man: Eye-baw! Eye-baw!
Miss-Miss: My fingers are tired!
Bubba: My fingers tired, too!
Me: Mumbling. Oh yeah? Well, my vagina is tired!
Me: They are? Well, my feet are tired, too!
Miss-Miss: And my legs are tired!
Me: Really? Well, my hands are tired!
Bubba: My head is tired!
Me: My eyeballs are tired!
J-man: Eye-baw! Eye-baw!
Miss-Miss: My fingers are tired!
Bubba: My fingers tired, too!
Me: Mumbling. Oh yeah? Well, my vagina is tired!
19 December 2008
Dialog, Part 19
Ty-man: While hanging up his coat in our coat closet. Good Lord, woman! You have like six coats! I have no space for my piddling three!
Me: Well, I guess it's a good thing that we're a heterosexual couple and not a lesbian couple. Then we'd have no coat closet space.
Ty-man: Naw. I'd be the butch lesbian. We'd still be OK.
Me: Laughing hysterically and crossing my legs so I wouldn't pee myself.
Me: Well, I guess it's a good thing that we're a heterosexual couple and not a lesbian couple. Then we'd have no coat closet space.
Ty-man: Naw. I'd be the butch lesbian. We'd still be OK.
Me: Laughing hysterically and crossing my legs so I wouldn't pee myself.
11 December 2008
Dialog, Part 18
Mom: What's this?
Me: That's my Reason magazine.
Mom: What's it about?
Me: It's sort of like the official Libertarian magazine.
Mom: Aren't those like Communists?
Me: Mom, you just called me a Communist.
Mom: Well, aren't you?
Me: Yes, Mom. Yes. I'm a Communist. My Korean War-veteran father is currently spinning in his grave, he's so proud of his little Commie daughter. In fact, I'm thinking of changing Bubba's name to Vladimir Lenin. And I've decided to re-decorate in a hammer/sickle theme. Lots of reds*. Paging Senator McCarthy! Line 1, please! We've got a Communist housewife in Georgia!
Sigh
*Pardon the pun.
Me: That's my Reason magazine.
Mom: What's it about?
Me: It's sort of like the official Libertarian magazine.
Mom: Aren't those like Communists?
Me: Mom, you just called me a Communist.
Mom: Well, aren't you?
Me: Yes, Mom. Yes. I'm a Communist. My Korean War-veteran father is currently spinning in his grave, he's so proud of his little Commie daughter. In fact, I'm thinking of changing Bubba's name to Vladimir Lenin. And I've decided to re-decorate in a hammer/sickle theme. Lots of reds*. Paging Senator McCarthy! Line 1, please! We've got a Communist housewife in Georgia!
Sigh
*Pardon the pun.
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