Spell | Sep 29 2002
Her:
Him: Did you notice that you can include an email at the bottom, under where you click submit? This is my email.
Her: Take that.
Him: Fucking vowel salad. If I don’t get some consonants soon, I’ll… aaaaiiiiioouuueeeee!
Her: Excuses only highlight your mediocrity.
Him: It’s your move, girl. I pity you.
Her: Mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha.
Him: I’m cowering behind my scratching pole.
Her: Done with my left brain tied behind my back.
Him: Just you wait.
Her: I’m going to bed now. Thanks for letting me kick your sorry ass at online Scrabble tonight.
Him: Running away, eh?
Her: Morning, lover. Here’s a kiss.
Him: Well, baby, that’s a fucking amazing move. I find it…arousing. Whew.
Her: He is aroused by seven-letter words. Hmmm. Trying to imagine porn for him. Final rounds of spelling bees. Women reading Kant with their legs spread. Debby Does Dallas overdubbed with lines like, “He thrust his throbbing signifier into my dripping wet signified.”
Him: I had a slew of worse moves ready. You have made my ass a little less sorry this morning.
Her: I find it quaint that you are planning your moves in advance, but some of us have a life.
Him: And yet I put a spell on you.
Her: A happy spell.
Him: But dangerous.
Her: I’ll manage.
Him: I hadn’t realized this before, but I have come to the conclusion, particularly considering that you possess the last blank and that I am 23 points behind, that I have no life.
Her: Ah, the death blow.
Him: You’re lucky I didn’t have a better move on that last turn. It was a risky play to go for more points as opposed to getting rid of your letters, because of course the person who goes out first gets the other person’s remaining points, and the other person also gets those points subtracted from his/her score. You knew this, right?
Her: No, I didn’t know that. That was only my second game of Scrabble. :)
Him: Bitch.
A man signs a shovel and so he digs.
Accessibility statement, Site map, Syndicated feeds
XHTML, CSS, 508 / Movable Type
© 1999-2007 Michael Barrish