I'm dead tired like a blown wheel at the Indy 500. I hope that lackluster simile conveys the fact. To boot, rather than choosing to sleep the sleep of the just (and handsome) this afternoon, I opted to play basketball for 3 hours and in the process caught a terrific sunburn. Seriously, you could reheat last night's leftovers by standing near me.
So because I'm lazy, instead of my planned posts about the second part of In Cold Blood, a review of Sin City (the film), a lengthy diatribe on why people who don't like grilled cheese sandwiches are racist, and an interview with the guy who sells veggies out of his truck in my neighborhood, you're getting the following, a transcript of the MSN convo I had last night between me and my mother. And to spice things up -- and because I masochistically long for my folks to disown me -- I've embellished a few details. All names have been changed to protect the well-dressed, and the stuff I made up is written in italics.
Bon apetit.
Sparkles*_*:
Guten morgen.
Mommy Sparkles*_*:
Good morning Sparkles. They are not up yet.
Sparkles*_*:
Bummer. I got time, though :)
Mommy Sparkles*_*:
Okay - They should make an appearance soon but, I guess that they will have to have breakfast.
Mommy Sparkles*_*:
I told the 18th Letter that I would make cookies with her today.
Sparkles*_*:
Can you send me some?
Mommy Sparkles*_*:
Sure. I hope you choke on them.
Sparkles*_*:
I'm sure they'll be extra crunchy by the time they arrive.
Mommy Sparkles*_*:
And maybe a little green.
Sparkles*_*:
What's for breakfast?
Mommy Sparkles*_*:
I don't know. Probably something Korean. And what did you have for breakfast, kimchi-fried stupid?
Mommy Sparkles*_*:
The 18th Letter was talking to Great Uncle Johnny Unitas the other night and the next night we invited her to talk to Great Grammie. She disputed that there was another Grammie. When we tried to convince her she asked then where was Great Mummy.
Sparkles*_*:
Ha!
Sparkles*_*:
In Egypt!
Mommy Sparkles*_*:
Smart alec kid! I've fallen for the "pull my finger" trick a few times. When I eventually caught on and refused to do so, she threw hot coffee at me and ran out with my cheque book.
Mommy Sparkles*_*:
When we were going to the Korean store the other night she started to complain that it was taking too long. She said "Why aren't we going up?" - That is a reference to the off ramps that almost always have an upward slope.
Sparkles*_*:
Korean store. Slope. Really subtle, Mom.
Mommy Sparkles*_*:
I know that because whenever we are on one she says "We are going up." Then she asks where to score quality grass.
Sparkles*_*:
Heh.
Mommy Sparkles*_*:
To get her mind off the fact that it was taking a long time I put her in a sleeper hold and I asked her - probably for the umpteenth time - how she liked nursery school. Her response - "not very well." The expression struck us funny. Funnier than anything that's ever come out of your filthy mouth, anyway.
Mommy Sparkles*_*:
I said that, like beating homeless people to death, she told us earlier that she liked it. - Her reply: "Well I like it a little bit."
Sparkles*_*:
She said that verbatim?
Mommy Sparkles*_*:
Exactly.
Sparkles*_*:
Wow. She's the most proficient liguist to come out of South Korea since Kosik the Talking Elephant.
Mommy Sparkles*_*:
She amazes me! You should see her shoplift!
Sparkles*_*:
Going for a smoke. Back in a bit.
Mommy Sparkles*_*:
Okay. Try not to lock yourself outside, dumbass.
Sparkles*_*:
Back. Damn, it's cold outside. Speaking of cold, isn't an icicle the perfect murder weapon?
Mommy Sparkles*_*:
It has turned warm here - a beautiful day yesterday but cloudy today. If it is nice, I will likely take the 18th letter to the park and a sportsbook.
Mommy Sparkles*_*:
I hear someone.
Sparkles*_*:
Me, too. It's the neighbor's dog. He's telling me to "kill."
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