Adventures in Beef (or Because The World Needs More Euphamisms for Oral Sex)
So, I *was* going to go to bed about an hour and a half ago. At least, that was my intention when I hung up my phone. (Haha! That sounds like the really bad start to an awful novel!) But roughly two minutes later, Rebecca showed up at my door.
So of course I had to sit in the kitchen and chat with her for more than an hour. And feed her, because she hadn't eaten since the early afternoon. (And entertain her. As apparently the image of me standing in the kitchen in my bathrobe, glasses, and questionable hair sampling meat out of a large plastic container as I proclaim "This is good meat!" was too much for her.) So we talked about a wide range of things, some of them more obvious than others. She had just gotten back from seeing a stage production of Pride and Prejudice, so we discussed the racy stage additions (Standing ovation? Finally!) and how it was a pity the Mr. Darcy was so unlike Colin Firth's Mr. Darcy. (Who prompted women everywhere and also Ryan and Andrew in english class to run around exclaiming "Mister Darcy!" in horrible accents.) Also, apparently the play included some Air Piano, which she thought was cool. Although I was disappointed there were no Air Gdrums. (And no, thats not a typo.) We also talked about insecurity, which is only worth noting here because the conversation involved Bec accusing Ryan Mills of having flabby arms, which certain people should find amusing. (Especially if it makes him wake up unhappy and then he blames it on syntax, as Rebec pointed out.)
The conversation was interrupted, though, when Rebecca suddenly stopped talking becuase . . .
R: Beef in the teef.
J: Beef in the teef? *laughs*
R: You know, that could have some very dirty connotations.
J: *laughs harder*
(Incidentally, the meat in question was not beef at all, but pork. Details.)
I should go to bed. I'm not feeling very tired, though. Damn. I have so much to do tomorrow. Oh well, maybe if I just lay down . . . .
So of course I had to sit in the kitchen and chat with her for more than an hour. And feed her, because she hadn't eaten since the early afternoon. (And entertain her. As apparently the image of me standing in the kitchen in my bathrobe, glasses, and questionable hair sampling meat out of a large plastic container as I proclaim "This is good meat!" was too much for her.) So we talked about a wide range of things, some of them more obvious than others. She had just gotten back from seeing a stage production of Pride and Prejudice, so we discussed the racy stage additions (Standing ovation? Finally!) and how it was a pity the Mr. Darcy was so unlike Colin Firth's Mr. Darcy. (Who prompted women everywhere and also Ryan and Andrew in english class to run around exclaiming "Mister Darcy!" in horrible accents.) Also, apparently the play included some Air Piano, which she thought was cool. Although I was disappointed there were no Air Gdrums. (And no, thats not a typo.) We also talked about insecurity, which is only worth noting here because the conversation involved Bec accusing Ryan Mills of having flabby arms, which certain people should find amusing. (Especially if it makes him wake up unhappy and then he blames it on syntax, as Rebec pointed out.)
The conversation was interrupted, though, when Rebecca suddenly stopped talking becuase . . .
R: Beef in the teef.
J: Beef in the teef? *laughs*
R: You know, that could have some very dirty connotations.
J: *laughs harder*
(Incidentally, the meat in question was not beef at all, but pork. Details.)
I should go to bed. I'm not feeling very tired, though. Damn. I have so much to do tomorrow. Oh well, maybe if I just lay down . . . .