she stole my clothes & I can't turn back into a seal without them!

[thanate]

I am still a puddle, although I've made some brief attempts at being a fencing & rock-climbing puddle. Soon I will be a sleeping puddle, which is much easier.

me: I don't have to make decisions. The soil can make its own decisions.
Steve: Soil doesn't make decisions.
me: Well, neither do puddles, then.
Steve: But puddles don't fight back, either. You're giving yourself away.
me: I'm just splashing a bit.

Kristine: Thanate is one of the few women who doesn't laugh at men's jokes.
me: I do if they're actually funny!

Steve: [something about unhappy childhoods, & only his mother loved him]...because I wasn't loved.
me: What about your wife, Steve?
Steve: Oh, I'm loved now.
me: You got over it? Congratulations!
Steve: [with some surprise] Yes. I got over it.

Oh, and Steve was trying to predict my future and telling me that I would find romance with someone "just around the corner" who likes impressionist painting (because we'd just had a conversation about my not particularly caring for it) and is less intelligent than me, but has some other quality that I appreciate...
me: Steve, are you trying to hook me up with someone stupid?
Steve: As the great Martin Mull said, would you please pass the artifact bag?

ok, it was funny at the time. it is also possible that puddles have a suspect sense of humor. Or that my brain has been irrevocably warped by the sun, heat, and TR threatening to cut off Kristine's fingers as an incentive to work faster.

Comments

[thanate.livejournal.com]

The idea was that if he cut off one finger per day it would serve as incentive to the rest of us. Of course, as I pointed out, we can always leave and not come back... (Kristine is just holding out for lawsuit potential)