And This Is Why Women Resort To Cat-Ownership

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Linney: Dude.  Are you ready for me to be online dating?  This gem arrived this morning.

Linney Date

Me: W. T. Actual. Fuck.

Linney: Hefty.  It’s got…heft.

Me: Better than ‘girthy’?

Linney: Yes. Or ‘pencil thin’.

Me: ‘Slim-dicked wrestler seeks soul mate.’

Politics…Bringing People Together Since…Never

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(Don’t even ask what started this conversation…our texts have a narrative thread that falls somewhere between mescaline overdose and fever-dream.)

Ryan: How would you like a Trump-Cruz ticket.?

Me: I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the sound of me dying.

Ryan: That’s something you could put on Pay-Per-View.

(A second later…)

Ryan: To be clear…Trump-Cruz, not your dying.

Me: Thanks for clarifying, sweetie.  Wait, are you saying my death isn’t good enough for Pay-Per-View?

Ryan: Yeah…I don’t think I can win here, so I’m just going to tell you you’re pretty and hope for the best.

 

Car Conversations Never End Well

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Liam: “What was the name of that actor who did the Lincoln commercials?”

Xavier: “Matthew McConaughey.”

Liam: “What was he even in?  Why is he even famous?”

Xavier: “He was in Interstellar, and grown-up women find him attractive.”

Liam: “Mom, do you find him attractive?”

Me: “You mean Matthew McConagh-heeeeeeeeeyyyyyyy.”

Xavier: “Jesus, mother.”

It Be Pirates!!!

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So, to make a very long story short… Some criminal asshole made a duplicate of my credit card, which they then used at a retail store, that shall remain nameless, where a sales associate allowed them to use my card SEVENTEEN times in a row for amounts between 40 and $50, resulting in over $700 in charges. Needless to say, this was both infuriating, and a giant waste of my time to get fixed.

Tracy: “What’s going on with your credit card situation.”

Me: “I’m still working on getting my new card and getting all the charges removed. I filed a police report yesterday.”

Tracy: “Has the store offered to send you anything as a way of restitution since they fucked up?”

Me: “I want more than a gift basket for this bullshit, I want somebody HUNG.”

Tracy: “Honey, we all want someone hung, but I’m pretty sure in lieu of a big dick, you’re just going to settle for a gift basket.”

I Think It’s Safe To Say I Won’t Be Vicariously Attending Prom

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(A series of texts during the Spring Formal I was chaperoning last night.)

Ryan: Did you bring your ruler, so you can measure if there’s room for the Holy Spirit?

Me: If I sent you pictures of the way these girls were dressed, you’d send Morgan to a convent before she hits puberty.  I need a yard stick.

Ryan: What is your exact job at this thing, if they’re letting them in half-naked?

Me: It seems to be me walking around, using a flashlight as a method of birth control.

(Thirty minutes later.)

 

Me: Goddammit! I was right in the middle of the throng, and a fucking Beyonce song came on…

Ryan: That’s going to be the weirdest Worker’s Comp claim in the history of man.

Me: So…much…flailing…

(An hour later…)

Me: We should have made a High School Dance Bingo card for this thing.

Ryan: Has their been an awkward dance battle, yet?

Me: Check. And now two guys have their ties tied around their head.

Ryan: That’s a corner piece. You’re one girl crying in the corner, from a Bingo.

(five minutes later)

Me; BINGO!!!

Ryan: Congrats. The prize is that you have to call her mother.

Me: Fuck!

Now, I Can’t Unsee It.

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Ryan: “Has Matthew ever been with a woman?”

Me: “No, he’s what we refer to as a ‘Gold-star Gay’.  He’s only been with dudes.”

Ryan: “Never tried it out, huh?”

Me: “He refers to the vagina as ‘The Eye of Sauron’.  Vaginas never had a chance.”