Pete: Did you hear about that new heroin?
Me: Yeah. Apparently you can swallow it and it gets right into your blood stream.
Pete: Yeah. No more track marks. I’m stoked.
Me: I wasn’t aware you did heroin.
Pete: I don’t. But I date a lot of gutter slut, drug using bitches. You know, those track marks can be a real turn off.
Me: I imagine.
Tony: George Bush is putting ten thousand National Guardsman at the border to stop illegal immigration. I think that’s beautiful.
Me: Why?
Tony: ‘Cause he ain’t sending them to Iraq.
Me: You got a weird perspective, Tony.
Tony: That’s fine. As long as me and my perspective ain’t going to Iraq, I’m sure we’ll both be just fine.
Me: I don’t like putting links in my blog, but Sully said it makes them more user friendly.
Amy: He’s right.
Me: I think it takes away from the blog entries, you know? It’s like they don’t get to stand on their own.
Amy: You’re right.
Me: So, do you think I should keep linking?
Amy: Yeah. I mean, if you’re gonna be a whore, you might as well be the best whore in the whorehouse.
Me: Who you calling a whore, slut?
Me: I like how, whenever George Bush has a problem, he finds a way to use the military.
Luke: Yeah. It’s like, I’m waiting for him to use the troops to stop gays from getting married.
Me: Dude, that would be funny as hell. Imagine the headlines.
Luke: Flame Throwers stop Flamers from Freaking.
Me: Guard gets Gays Gone.
Luke: President Bush and Vice President Dick get Dicks Back in Bush where they Belong.
Me: Gays Try to Wed, End Up Dead.
Mike: You guys can stop anytime now.
Luke: No, Mike, I think you mean, “You Gays Can Stop Anytime Now.” And I don’t think that one would work, anyway.
Me: I think Mike wants us to stop with the headlines, Luke.
Luke: Fuck that and fuck him.
Me: No thanks.
Amy: You should buy sugar.
Me: Why?
Amy: So I can put them on my strawberries.
Me: You mean, MY strawberries?
Amy: Whatever.
Me: My girlfriend lies about what I do for a living without really lying about how I make my living.
Main: How’s she pull that off?
Me: If someone asks her what I do, she tells them I’m a writer.
Main: Well, you are a writer.
Me: Then she mentions that I make a good living.
Main: Which you do.
Me: But people infer from her statements that I make a good living as a writer.
Main: That’s funny.
Me: What’s funny about it?
Main: Your girl’s ashamed about how you make your money, but not too ashamed to spend it. They got a word for that.
Me: What’s that?
Main: I’ll tell you when you guys break up.
Me: Thanks for the chat.
Main: Any time, hoss.
Me: What’s your favorite color?
Mark: White.
Me: Why?
Mark: Because it’s the color of my manly discharges.
Me: So?
Mark: So, there’s nothing I enjoy more than my orgasms, so it follows that the color of my jizz, because it’s representative of my favorite feeling, is my favorite color.
Me: Holy shit. I gotta rethink my favorite color.
Mark: No need to thank me.
Me: Don’t worry about that.
Mark: Yeah, I wasn't.