.blathering madwomen.

"And yet again, I must give you points for your latest blowjob line."
"We need to make a compendium of all these great lines we say."
"We really do. Our brilliance must be set down for postierity."
"Posteriority?"
"That too."

when i lived in north carolina, i used to hang out with a girl called sarah. sarah was very cool. (in a dorky sort of way, nyah, salami!:P) senior year of high school, i moved back to texas, but sarah and i kept in touch by e-mail. eventually, we lost touch, and then recently we starting talking (writing! whatever!) again. the other day, we started idly talking about how all the funny things we say need to be compiled, and right now it's 1:30 in the morning and i'm so bored i'm actually doing it.

sarah & i have a very complicated, labyrinthine set of inside jokes, mostly involving the julio-claudian emporers of rome and/or star wars. yes, we are geeks. i've edited out most of the blatant roman/sw stuff, just because, even if you know about these things, we twist subjects around so wierdly that you wouldn't get it anyway. some things you must know to get some of this stuff: 1) the jar jar binks inflatable chair has been accused by fundies of being a masturbatory tool, 2) "minnowing" is performing oral sex underwater, and 3) we are both fans of the sith academy website, and some of our jokes are based on it. so... um... here are our rantings. beware.


sarah, on her 18th birthday: "I'm now old enough to look at internet porn, and something tells me you're in a lot of it, you little minnow"

me, after eating a candy off the floor, which everybody knows can kill you: drawing my last breath as we speak
sarah, bastion of sympathy in a cruel world: Oh, don't make a big production out of it.

me, on the downside of doin' it sith style: what can I say, those double-ended lightsabers tend to cause a little damage...
sarah: Not to mention the horns.

more sympathy: after mocking my tongue-pierce-induced lisp (mostly gone now, thank God) with mention of the world's tiniest violin, sarah proceeded to complain about her sinuses.
me:>Aww... is that tiny violin making a reappearance in this e-mail? I do believe so...
the poor little invalid's reply: Fuck yourself sideways with a folding chair.

sarah, accusing me of a distasteful liason: Exsqueeze me? Am I the one on his little 'Island of Loooove?'
me:More like on his waterbed of loooove...

sarah defends her chastity: Only I knew how to say 'no'
me: As in, "no, I didn't forget to bring the butt plugs!"

me: Oh, my God! Hippie sadomasochism!!
sarah, being a genius: Why do you think Birkenstocks are leather?

me, on the nc-17 stories at the sith academy site: I think they corrupted my innocence.
sarah, casting shocking doubts on my goodness and purity:*gag* *sputter* You think they WHAT? Your WHAT?

sarah, talking shit about gungans: "And they have Ken-doll crotches."

sarah, laying down the law (actually, this was her speculation about what an angry boyfriend would say to me): "'If you ever want to be on top again, you must come over immediately and give me a good blowjob.'"

sarah, counselor: You just have to learn to open up and admit you have a problem with cheating on six Emperors. And a Gungan.

sarah, further speculating on my irate boyfriends-- in this case, what happens when i get dumped: "'If you come right over and give me a blowjob, I may reconsider this termination."

me, after sarah threatened to castrate someone: Be careful, he might like that.
sarah: Yeah, but I don't think you would.
me:No, I really wouldn't... if he didn't have a dick, *you'd* have nothing to do in those wee lonely hours around 2 a.m., and I hate to think of you having to resort to your Jar Jar chair... again...
sarah, proving that denial is not just a river in egypt: My chair and I have a perfectly platonic relationship!

sarah, accusing me with a preoccupation with sex: > > Hmm, I wonder what could be on *your* mind.
me: The Bible, Jesus, and the joys of giving back to my community, of course. I don't concern myself with cheap physical things. *wide-eyed innocent look* You believe me, right?

me, being not vanilla: Olive loaf? Kinky? *snort* What a prude.

the dreaded jar jar chair makes another appearance... sarah tells it like it isn't (no, really!): And anyway, I wouldn't mention furniture if I were you. We all know about your Jar Jar chair.

there's no escaping the chair! after i admitted i see phallic symbols where they probably aren't, sarah accused me of seeing them in the jar jar binks chair.
me:
Hey! I'll have you know, all the other people in my congregation told me I was right about that one!
sarah: And where were their hands when they said this?
me:In their pockets, why?
*gasp of realization*
sarah: Do you see the light?

sarah, denying my assertion that she was "fulfilling the physical desires" of someone gross: Yes, the physical desire to be rejected...turned down...slapped in the face...kicked in the balls...I'm good at fulfilling those needs.
me: Wow, that sounds like some hardcore S&M. I hope you two have a safeword. Just trying to be helpful. :)

sarah, on fundies: Funny how their hands are always in their pockets.
me, believing only the best of people: Oh, now, I'm sure they're just looking for their wallets. For twenty minutes at a stretch.

still more sympathy...
sarah, after i ignored a particularly funny comment of hers:
Hmph! A little appreciation might be useful now and again.
me, paragon of compassion: Awww, I'm sorry. Is the poor widdle Sarah feeling underappreciated?
Wussy.