Fashionable, but unable to tell fact from fiction (testing4l) wrote,
Fashionable, but unable to tell fact from fiction
testing4l

R: "So what's with this shirt business?"
P: "There is no shirt. There is only Zuul."
R: "You're weird. Your girlfriend asks you to take off your shirt and you don't comply."
P: "It has nothing to do with complying. Just the simple fact that there is no shirt. Moreover, it doesn't show a tendency to irrationality, therefore I'm not crazy."
R: "I said weird, not crazy."
P: "Oh, I know they mean the same thing in your silly little dictionary."
R: "Well just because you have a big one."
P: "That has nothing to do with this. Besides, you're two syllanbles off."

*pregnant pause while we both realize that dictionary has _4_ syllables*

R: "You mean three syllables off."
P: "Ummm...no. I meant my..uhhh...DICTION!"

There was a lot more of this sort of banter before relsqui accidentally kicked out the power to the lamp. Naturally that started me on hiccoughs (and reminded me of a long ago post in her journal where I did the same thing).

Had a lovely night. Saw beethatbumbles and boy. Flew kites. Lots of good wind today. Went to Lane Splitters (Reasonably decent pizza. Not somewhere I'd send people for good pizza, but hardly unappetizing).

Came back and yadda yadda yadda.

Tomorrow, I may have a job interview via phone. A friend of mine's been looking out for me and an opening just came up in his company. I'm apparently the only person who is being considered at the moment, so if I don't fuck things up, I may yet be employed.

Given the recent past, I'm extremely guarded about my optimism.
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