Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Putting the “Say What?” in Conversation

TCG: (Returning home after smoking his daily cigarette running his daily errands). They wouldn’t give me the certified form when I went there.

UCC: A foolproof plan? An airtight alibi? A Little context? A fucking clue what you’re talking about?

WISIMH: As Jane Austin might say, I have not the pleasure of understanding you. As Herman Melville might say, No smoking in the parlor, and no suicides. As Sister Merciful God in Heaven might say: why have I wasted my life as a bride of Christ when I took a vow of chastity and masturbation is a mortal sin? As Raymond Chandler might put it: Your ramblings make as much sense as a frightened chicken in an orange jumpsuit. As I simply say in my head: what the fuck are you talking about?

TCG: The hearing aid people. They need you to come in first.

UCC: Ahh, you’re saying they won’t give us the hearing aid insurance form unless they can see and inspect my aids to be sure they exist before they insure them against loss.

TCG: Touching the tip of his nose with one hand and pointing to me with the other: What you said.

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