Me: If Jesus were a baseball player, what position do you think he’d play?
Luke: Second base; he was small.
Me: Yeah, but he wasn’t small for his time.
Luke: Yeah, but baseball didn’t exist then.
Me: I still think he’d be a pitcher.
Luke: Dude was five foot seven. If he were a pitcher, I’d take him yard.
Me: You couldn’t take Jesus yard.
Luke: I’d fuck his holy ass up.
Me: You’re going to hell.
Luke: Save me a seat for the Manson Show.

Me: It really bothers me that you never read any of my stuff.
Mike: I don’t read lots of stuff. Get over it.
Me: Yeah, but you’re in the blog almost every time I do the snippets.
Mike: So, I could read your work, which I imagine reads a lot like you sound, which quite frankly, I get enough of, and I could read your quotes of me, which probably sounds just like me, who I happen to be, and who I really can’t be entertained by, seeing as how I’m the guy I’d be entertaining.
Me: Yeah, but when you put it like that—
Mike: I prove my point is what I do.
Me: I hate you sometimes.
Mike: Fucking hack. Get some real material and quit stealing from me.
Me: Learn to read and write and I just might.
Mike: I love advice that rhymes.

Me: Peek, how come you never read any of my columns or blog entries?
Peek: I read a couple of them.
Me: None of my friends read anything I write.
Peek: Nate, most of your friends don’t read, period. It’s not our fault you’re a geek. You want your friends to read you, go hang out with intellectuals.
Me: I have a few intellectual friends.
Peek: Yeah, well keep ‘em away from me. I know enough useless shit.

Peek: I don’t know… that food came almost too fast.
Me: Yeah, we didn’t really get to bullshit with the waitresses or anything.
Peek: We didn’t even get to talk about the game.
Me: Well, we have time now, I guess.
Peek: I don’t know… it seems kinda out of place, you know, without the diner.
Me: Yeah. Next time we’ll tell them to take more time.
Peek: ‘Excuse me, ma’am, could you make that take at least fifteen minutes? My friend and I have some topics to cover.’
Me: ‘We’re with Diner Bullshit Monthly.’
Peek: ‘We’ll trade you a write-up for some omelets.’
Me: We’re strange.

Rachel: You should go to Gibsonton this winter. It’s the winter home of carnies and carnival freaks.
Jeff: Yeah, it’s really weird. There’s freaks everywhere. It used to be cooler back in the day, before they all bought houses and stuff, but still, you’ll see like random carnival shit like Ferris Wheels in peoples' back yards.
Me: How was it cooler back in the day?
Jeff: They used to just have a whole bunch of trailers in a field full of carnival rides. They were more approachable. Now they all have houses with yards. It’s not the same. They’re not as humble as they once were.
Rachel: Uppity carnival freaks.

Rachel: The science center is not gonna be allowed to display the dead bodies from China because they can’t prove that they got them legally.
Me: Awesome. Black market dead bodies making their way to Florida. This state kicks the shit out of a dog pen.
Rachel: Er, sure.

Jamie: Some people would find it offensive that all of the girls in this strip club know your name.
Me: They don't all know my name.
Jamie: Don’t worry. It doesn’t bother me. I used to work in a place like this.
Me: Awesome. You ever think about doing it again—being a stripper I mean? Because that would be really cool.
Jamie: In some ways, you are the mental opposite of every guy I’ve ever dated.
Me: Back at ya’, Babe.