Fireland

Satan's Crotch Business

Just found this abandoned post intended for the abandoned Wiretap Follies:

ELEANOR ALLEN. I do not know a soul who would call me when they know that Jeopardy is on.

JOSHUA GREEN ALLEN. What is: John F. Kennedy.

EA. Oh my goodness, Jiggies! How did you know that?

JGA. It’s usually either him or like sodium chloride or Shakespeare.

EA. I take back all the terrible things I said about private school and all the money they took from me.

JGA. OK, finally! I mean, wasn’t it nice not having to dress me every morning? Just pick the grey or the blue skirt and laugh and be done with it?

EA. Yes but see now I’m wondering why you’re calling me and it’s not my birthday or Mother’s Day. Let me guess: Somebody in the family died and you need a very specific amount of money to cremate them properly?

JGA. Mother. Everyone’s pretty much dead but you, and you know this.

EA. Did I email you that article about how cremating loved ones makes the ozone layer worse than ever?

JGA. Well, Sheila from next door brought the article over because you think email is, quote, Satan’s Crotch Business.

EA. Alls I know is every time I’ve seen email there is lies and shaved lady parts.

JGA. I didn’t hear what you just said so let’s just move on.

EA. Shaved Vagina. Vaginas.

JGA. I am so angry at this expensive phone breaking up at crucial moments! Gah! I am going to write a very angry letter to the manufacturer just like you taught me, Mother!

Posted June 25, 2009 at 11:00pm || home