Crazy Cat Lady

Sancho: crazy lady telling robbery story is boss http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vcpx8O82KLM&feature=player_embedded#!

Quixote: I saw her earlier. Don't lie, we could easily work with someone this crazy.

Sancho: what the fuck are you talking about? we do

Quixote: like.. I think [lady we work with] is a secret nutjob.

Sancho: no. she's an obvious nutjob

Quixote: well she doesn't do any outwardly crazy things I've observed. I just imagine she has a house full of cats at home that she's established an elaborate hierarchy for, which she enforces with an iron fist.

Sancho: haha, oh that's so awesome. of course im going to laugh every time i see her now

Quixote: you know it's fucking true. "Captain Fuzzbucket, that's Lady Whisker's catbox!" and then she sprays Captain Fuzzbucket with a mixture of apple cider vinegar and water she keeps in an old windex spray bottle.

Sancho: im sorry, I know it's years old, but this is so going on the blog

Quixote: Heh it is blogworthy, that is true.

Blend In

Tom: Here comes Uncle Ed.

Me: Uh-oh.

Sancho: Should I like...hide or something?

Me: No no. Your name is Carl and you're a lumberjack.

Sancho: Ok, cool.... What do lumberjacks talk about?

Me: Wood.

Sancho: Shit!

Musings on Bento Boxes, Memory, and 23 year old Gay Grandfathers

So, there's this deal where apparently I don't remember things. Like... conversations I've taken part in with people, i just completely don't recall. Such a situation prompted this conversation on the way to dinner:

Sancho: "Maybe I'll get the bento box..."
Quixote: "We've already done that.
Sancho: "What, really? I don't think so..."
Quixote: "Yes, we did. Remember the spicy tuna rolls?"
Sancho: "...ohhh yeahhhh."
Quixote: "Jesus Christ."
Sancho: "It's really just easier for me to keep my memory in your head at this point."
Quixote: "Haha, yeah.
Sancho: "So...where are my grandchildren?"
Quixote: "Ok... see...you're 23 and gay.
[Pause]
Sancho: "So..no grandchildren?"
Quixote: "No. No goddamn grandchildren!"

Saint Drinkenstein

I'm drinking pre-mixed manhattans and I'm bored. So I give you... snippets of conversation.



Me: Oh crap. I only have a twenty. What do you have?
Sancho: A twenty. Dammit.
Me: Fuck, how do we pay. I mean I could..and then you could..
Sancho: We always do this. Why are we retarded.
Me: You're right. We act like they tossed us a couple of marshmallows and were told to start a fire.
Sancho: *chokes on portion of fortune cookie while laughing*
Me: We have money. We use it in exchange for goods and services. We are fucking retarded.




Me: So after we get our Gay Wingman/Straight Wingman t-shirts and I go to a gay club, am I going to get "straight bashed" ? Is that a word? Did I just make that up?
Sancho: I dunno. Probably not. Well... maybe. Some angsty gay boy might get all pissy about it.
Me: Be all "eww, a breeder." And shit?
Sancho: Yeah. And that's when I bust out with "You know what, bitch? Your mom's a breeder. Bam"
Me: Oh snap. It's true and a mom joke!

They's Got Whitey!

So, I was listening to NPR (yes, I know how pretentious that sounds, that's WHY people listen to NPR) in the car on the ride home and they had some study they did. Something like which state is most average/most indicative of the rest of the country. Apparently its Illinois... who knew? Anyway, it seems that number 51 (the state most UNLIKE the rest of the country) is West Virginia. Yeah, I know, no big surprise. It seems that they have an incredibly low percentage of minorities and a high percentage of white folk, etc. I think this calls for West Virginia to change their state slogan, you know on license plates and stuff:

West Virginia: We're Whiter Than You

Motherfucking childhood all up ins

Merry X-mas, bitches