Incessant Chatterings of Yours Truly

Abel: ooh, I love this song. *sing* with a black-haired flamanco dancer...
Toccoto: *listens*hey, I like the flamenco dancer. Mr. Jones has good taste.
Abel: he does.
Tocoto: Mr Jones? Are we sure its not Dr. Jones? As in Indiana?
Abel: no, no, its Mr.
Toccoto: oh, okay, because Indiana got his Doctorate in archaeology.
Abel: he minored in kicking ass. Dr Indiana Jones, Doctor of kickassery.
Toccoto: either that or foiling nazi regimes.

Abel: I've been thinking of porn all day, trying to get and idea for that erotica I'm supposed to write.
Diem: oh yeah? How's that working for you?
Abel: meh.
Diem: really?
Abel: yeah. All the things that interest me in writing feel just like vague ideas but I can't quite pull them into description.
Diem: what?
Abel: its just like...I want to capture this vibe and feel to the story but I can't quite capture it.
Diem: oh. *long pause* just don't have the right pokeball.
Abel: *turns to stare* huh. Yeah, actually.

ABEL has encountered WILD PORN!
ABEL uses POKEBALL!
WILD PORN breaks free!

One of the many reasons I know that I have a terrible sense of humor and a somewhat warped view of death is because while I do mourn a couple people's passing, every once in a while when I see someone really /dragging/ out their mourning process on a public forum like Facebook, I start making jokes about it.

My favorites are when people talk to facebook like they're talking to the person who died. I have to restrain the urge to reply to their heartfelt and often excessively enigmatic comment 'to' the person and remind them:

"I don't think there's Facebook in Heaven."

Now, let's set aside the fact that I don't believe in Heaven and the dispute of faith, but /if/ Facebook is anywhere, it's Hell. Let's be honest for a moment. Facebook, Twitter, Myspace are all our own personal windows into Hell.

So. If that person were to suddenly pop up and answer that very personal message, it would mean they're reading it in Hell. Probably being /forced/ to read it and every other stupid, inane message written not only on your friends' walls, but everyone's walls. Every. One. In the world.


I also think about making that person a facebook (or hacking their existing one) and responding to the message, myself. Just to see what happens.

'I miss you, grandpa!'
'I miss you, too, sweetie. See you in 30 years. Bring toilet paper. There's a shortage down here.'


-Abel

Abel: yeah I have a hunsky burning a hole in my pocket.
Diem: cool.
Abel: yep. A c note. A benny franklin.
Diem: you know, washington should be on the hundred don't you think?
Abel: why? He's on the one. More people see the one. Its in circulation more.
Diem: yeah but everyones striving for the benny.
Abel: yes, but this way, if you think about it, he's honored more because people see him every day.
Diem: honored by giving him two pieces of tiny currency?
Abel: yeah, because he's around more.
Diem: still. He was the founder of our nation and therefor has more value! Pfft okay ben was a founding father but whatever. Electricity, whatever, stole that shit from Tesla anyway.
Abel: ...*turrrns head* ...*stares* ...that was Edison.
Diem: *laughs* same thing. He had an electric keychain or something.
Abel: key...chain. Okay stop. *laughs* you gotta stop.

Discussing whether or not husky dogs are creepy (Due to their blue eyes)...

Diem: I was taken down by a husky once.
Toccoto: "Taken Down" or "Mounted"?
Diem: Taken down.
Abel: Are you sure?
Diem: Yeah. It was on one of those leashes you put mentally handicapped kids on so they can run back and forth on...
Toccoto & Abel: *start laughing* What?
Toccoto: I think that's the first time I've heard anyone use the term 'mentally handicapped' while mocking them.
Abel: He's politically correct, damnit!
Toccoto: That's like saying 'Damn, those Native Americans sure do like their fire water.'

As Diem picks up the Tylenol bottle
Abel: You too? I just took some of those.
Diem: Some? How many? Are you okay? Are you depressed?
Abel: I just took a handful and threw them in my mouth.
Diem: It's fine, you have small hands, you probably only got two.

Diem: bono is bad?
Abel: ...how do you know me and not know of my deep loathing for bono and U2?
Diem: see, I knew about U2...
Abel: bono's the main docuhebag in U2!
Diem: psht, like I know anything! The only thing I know about Bono, is Cher.
Abel: *eyes go wiiiiide*
Diem: and I don't even know if that's right!
Abel: ...*in shock* ...its...not.
Diem: okay, there you go. I kept wondering why people kept pronouncing his name differently.
Abel: yeah, Bono and Bono is not like 'crick' and 'creek'. Not the same thing.

Diem: so, I'm reading this article about 'Haircuts Women Love' on men, and they say that 'this guy can pull it off: artists, lazy guys, vampires. This guy cannot: anyone who needs to look remotely professional', and they have a picture of Robert Pattinson.
Abel: that's pretty good. *pause* So. Which is he?
Diem: huh? The...Twilight guy?
Abel: yeah. The artist or the lazy guy; he can't be the vampire.
Diem: hah! Right. Well, he can't act, either so he must be the lazy guy.
Abel *laughs*
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Abel: ...you're playing the good game, right?
Diem: yeah, why?
Abel: two good stories are boring...
Diem: I can be bad if you want.
Abel: I'm debating on being bad.
Diem: can you play bad?
Abel: ... ... ...
Diem: ...because I don't care, I can do either.
Abel takes a deep breath and blurts out in one long run on: ItsAgainstMyNatureAndMakesMeFeelBadForTheLittleDigitalPeopleInTheTV.
Diem laughs: I love you. I'll be a bad girl.
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Abel: itd be neat to live at 1234 5th street.
Diem: yeah. 12345 'th' street.
Abel: I always write in the TH. Or the ND. Or ST.
Diem: me too.
Abel: the little super script. With the line under it.
Diem: I don't do the line. It doesn't need the support. It is /super script/ rawr!!
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