Old & Moldy Snippet Style

Okay, so here’s the deal. I have to grab a flight to St. Louis, and I probably won’t be writing for a day or so and I don’t have time to write today. I do, however, have a bunch of stuff from my old e-mail list. I wrote these snippets on May 18th of 2005 (though I don’t think the date really matters). To everyone on the old e-mail list who may actually be disappointed by this reprint, don’t worry. You’ll see me in like six hours.

Dennis: Hey, did you hear that John Ho died?
Frank: Who?
Dennis: You don’t remember him? The lil’ Korean guy who played chess.
Frank: With the big fat guy?
Dennis: No, that was that Chinese guy, Thang. I’m talking about John Ho. He played electronic chess.
Frank: You mean the lil’ guy?
Dennis: Of course he was little. He was Korean.
Frank: Yeah, I remember him. What about him?
Dennis: He’s dead.
Frank: Crying shame.

Alana: I always feel bad when I see dead animals on the road.
Jason: Well, I mean, I don’t think it makes anyone feel good.
Steve: I don’t know…sometimes when it’s a cat—
Me: Dude, that’s just wrong.

Heather: I hate finals. I get so stressed out. What did you do to deal with the stress?
Me: I majored in creative writing. I was drunk for four years and woke up in a black robe. They tell me I took finals but I don’t remember.
Heather: Are you trying to frustrate me?

Emmy: There is way too much testosterone in this room. Why do men have to be so cocky?
Me: ‘Cause you like it.
Emmy: I like wine coolers, too.
Me: Touché.

Nickel: I can’t believe Brian is gonna spend the whole day inside.
Me: Why not? He has the experience and the training. He’s good at what he does.
Nickel: But he doesn’t do anything.
Me: Yeah, but he’s good at it.

Greg: How the hell did Americans invent baseball?
Me: Dude, baseball was invented because Americans didn’t like and couldn’t understand cricket, but they still wanted to hit projectiles with a stick.
AJ: Man, I love hitting projectiles with a stick.

Sheila: So, do you think you could pick me up at the airport?
Me: Uggh! The airport question. I hate the airport question.
Sheila: Okay, I’ll ask my mom.
Me: No, I’ll do it. But it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just one friend picking up another at the airport.
Sheila: So when my coworkers ask, I can say my friend, who is a heterosexual male, is picking me up at the airport. I can call you my boy… friend.
Me: I hate the airport gimmick.

Emmy: I’m twenty-three.
Mike: That means she’s really like twenty seven. Women always lie about their ages.
Me: Yeah, but they don’t start doing that until they get close to your age.
Mike: I’m taking your beer.
Me: I will die for that.

Me: So my first column’s gonna be about being a good person.
Royce: I’m waiting for the punch line.

Me: What are you doing tomorrow?
David: You mean besides viewing the premier of Star Wars Episode Three?
Me: Tell me you’re not dressing up.
David: I’m not dressing up…
Me: Thanks
David: Much.

Jason: Nate, you ever been to one of them renaissance fests?
Me: Indeed, myne gracious presence, on one peculiar occasion, blessed the curious endeavor that is thine renaissance fest.
Jason: Dude, I did not see that coming at all. You’re like, part geek.
Me: Not really. I woke up in a field while they were setting up. I had fun though.
Jason: So, they serve alcohol at those things?
Me: Oh yeah. And not quite all the chicks are ugly.
Jason: Wow, didn’t see that coming either.

Jared: I’ve read like forty in my life.
Tony: Really, forty?
Jared: Well, that’s a ball park figure. How many have you read?
Tony: Probably around a hundred.
Jared: Nate, how many have you read?
Me: How many what?
Jared: Books.
Me: Like, what kind of books?
Jared: Any kind.
Me: I don’t know.
Tony: Jared, that’s like asking you how many cigarettes you’ve smoked. He’s always got a book.
Jared: And a beer.
Tony: He’s multifaceted.
Jared: Good word.