May 17th, 2002 - 12:37 a.m.

A fake dialogue, two incidences, and dinner conversation.

�You want a second opinion? You�re an idiot.�

�Danke schon.�

(If only such a conversation existed. Dialogue is always much more entertaining in the head.)

Madam, must you insist upon excitedly flapping your arms while you run? You will not take flight; you shall only resemble a harried hen. Sigh, such a lack of aesthetic.

People with ulterior motives have an amazing ability to make themselves an irritation with a few ill, misinformed words. And disguise vehemence and jealousy as truth simply because one does not comply with their deluded plans. They rave and act as if the facet is the whole, only to dig themselves deeper. Pff. Such silliness.

He says, �You are such a fucking snob.�

�Sorry, I am not fucking any snobs at the present moment,� she retorts.

(Silence.)

�That�s not what I said.�

(She bursts into excessive laughter. He sits in silence.)

-intermission-

�Everybody is into the game.�

�Everyone?�

�Well, obviously figuratively speaking.�

"Figuratively?� She is being a pest.

�Yes, everyone speaks figuratively, figuratively speaking.�

�That is the funniest thing you have ever said.�

�No.�

N.

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