Exerpts from old conversations - part 1

While cleaning out my inbox I found lots of old conversations with bits worth keeping. Here's the first batch of several.


From a friend checking Match.com after moving to the deep south.
"Southern Bells? Only describes their shape, I think."


Her lawyers say no no, but her eyes say yes yes!


Their printers are good, the scanners are iffy, the scanner/printers were smashed together and the drivers written by 100 monkeys given a week to work.


JC: I saw the Pixies for the first time at Camden's infamous punk club City Gardens. I was 13 (so 1988), and I'd just started my regular habit of telling my parents I was going to play D&D over at a friend's house, then grabbing a bus to a rock show with friends -

ME wrote -
10 years from now:
JC: Hi, honey. How was game night?
LC: Ok. My Paladin made level 23 and I got the +3 Sword of Holding from the Caverns of Cannibal Lilliputians.
JC: Paladins can't use Swords of Holding. Where were you really?
LC: No, we were using 5th Gen rules.
JC: No self respecting Dungeon Master would ever use 5th Gen rules. You were out with that boy with the piercings weren't you?
LC: Daaaaad. That's not a piercing, that's his cellphone.
JC: That's a cellphone? It's huge.

JC: I would expect nothing less.


RM: [I'm] stewing about the idiot co-worker who thought wrapping a Rubik’s cube in duct tape wouldn’t ruin it...
*sigh* What the hell am I supposed to do with 17 white squares?
JC: Osmond Family Reunion?


For the humbler origins section of my campaign for President:
I was born a poor black woman in a log cabin that I helped my father build. Alas, my father died in childbirth. The next morning, when the immigration agents came for my mother I slipped out the window and hid in the woods until they were gone. I was adopted by a flock of baby harp seals who raised me in the Arizona rain forest. I learned to read by studying the hieroglyphics in the old neanderthal cliff dwellings
where we lived. My family took turns clubbing each other and selling off each others skin to pay my way through college.


All over Army and Air Force bases you see signs telling soldiers not to shake a baby. This came from telling non-military employees about the posters.
JC: Shaken... Baby... Syndrome? It's a syndrome? No it's not - it's assholes who assault an infant. Or, are they calling neck strains and such from unsupported heads SBS? That's just weird.
ME: It's the brain and neck damage caused by shaking a baby who wakes up every half hour all night long screaming it's lungs out for no good reason other than it feels like it and I really don't need this shit right now because I just spent the last 2 years dodging bullets and explosives come to think of it you're probably not even my kid that cheating bitch and for the love a god would you just shut up you screeching howling little monster WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU...
oops.


What do I look for in a woman? A chest that disturbs the Earth's orbit and a mind that can calculate by how much.


In a meeting:
Boss: I just got off the phone with the World Health Organization.
ME: Wait. The who?
Boss: The World Health... shut-up, [Ibid].


Response to a rumor that a Harry Potter game for the Wii would have the player shout the names of spells while waving a "wand".
"Assio Firebolt!"
" Shutting down."
"NO! Fuck! Cancel!"
"Launching Photoshop!"
"You're a Wii! Where did you get Photoshop?"
"Mailing kiddie porn to Mom."