There are times when I wish that all of you were privy to mine and Wormy’s IM sessions. We have them, oh, I don’t know, every day. All day. You would think that we would run out of things to talk about. But we never do.
Sometimes we talk about Mavrick and Chilla. Sometimes we talk about work. Sometimes we talk about people we know. A lot of times we talk about poop. And sometimes we just talk about nonsense. For example. This is an actual IM conversation we just had. Like, ten minutes ago (side note: Hot Mama just got a smart phone. She has NO IDEA how to use it. I am sure she will be blogging about this herself, but just as an FYI…):
WORMY: why won’t hot mama answer her phone? is she mad at me?
Sent at 12:25 PM on Wednesday
ME: She probably doesn’t know how.
Sent at 12:29 PM on Wednesday
ME: She is at E-man’s speech therapy dear.
ME: WE WERE IMING.
And she got offline because she had to take him to speech therapy.
WORMY: so…she has her laptop there?
ME: And she said she WOULD IM you, but you smell like a radish.
WORMY: i don’t even EAT radishes
ME: Whatever. You smell like them.
What’s your perfume? Eu De Beet?
WORMY: better than Eu De Feet…that’s what you smell like.
In case any of you were wondering why we haven’t cured cancer yet, there it is. We spend our days IMing each other middle school insults.
Wormy does not smell like a radish. That I have ever noticed anyway. What she DOES smell like, though, is someone who tries to steal all of my lines. In her brain, she isn’t stealing them. But she totally is. Let me give you an example.
I have always said “You can’t swing a cat in this town without hitting someone you know.” Did I ORIGNIATE this? No. I have no idea who did. But I use it all the time. People associate it with me. It’s my line.
One night, we were out at Slappy’s, and Wormy sees someone she knows. She turns to me and say, “Boy. You can’t swing a dead cat in this town without seeing someone you know”.
I just blinked at her. “Wormy, that’s my line. I use that line.”
Wormy: “No, no it’s not. I switched it up. I made it a DEAD cat. Totally different.”
And no matter how much I argued with her that making the cat DEAD wasn’t enough of a difference to matter, that she was verbally plagiarizing me, she was unmoved. She says it to this day, and will probably say it till her dying day.
I have this NEW thing I have been saying. Glam Sandwich. It’s like a HAM sandwich, but GLAM. Meaning – I look super awesome. I started out saying Glam Salad Sandwich, but ended up dropping the salad. I don’t even eat salad. And now it’s Glam Sandwich.
I made that up. Me. Mindbling. So yesterday we are IMing, and Wormy sends me one about how she is ordering her Bitchburgh T’s, and she going to look like a GLAMMIE SAMMIE.
I said “You did it again! You stole my line! Stop it. I say glam sandwich. Get your own damn adjectives.”
Wormy: “But it’s not the same. I am saying glamMIE SAMMIE. It rhymes.”
Me: “I don’t care if it rhymes. Wormy. Listen to me. They are too similar. It’s very obvious that you are taking my line, making a minor modification, and trying to claim it as your own. Please stop.”
Wormy: “Glammie. Sammie. Shazammie. Moon Over Myhammy. I like it. I think it has potential.”
Seriously, I wanted to get all stabby® on her breasticles®. HA HA. Try to take those words, WORMY. Can’t change just ONE WORD, can you? No. You can’t. NOT AFTER I INSERTED A REGISTERED SYMBOL IN MY WORD DOCUMENT.
That would be illegal. And you would go to jail. You don’t want to go to jail, Wormy. I don’t think you would like the kind of cats they swing around there.
See ya on the GChat!