Exhibit A

Beth and I were scrapbooking (yes, we use it as a verb. Go ahead. Mock us, you know you want to) our trip to Las Vegas in March and she had some leftover Saint Patrick Day stickers. This was our conversation about the stickers:

Beth (B): Did you take pictures of anyone in green hats when we went downtown on Saint Patrick’s Day?

Dana (DM): Did we go downtown?

B (spoken slowly, as if to a small child): Yes. We got the spray paint art and…

DM: Oh. Wasn’t there that guy? In the green?

B: The guy in the green on Saint Patrick’s Day. Now that’s descriptive.

DM: Shut up and get some paper (so I could blog this for you. Don’t you just adore me?).

Exhibit B

The same day we started talking about News Radio.

B: That was a good show.

DM: Yeah (deep sigh). I miss Phil Hartman.

There is a brief moment of silence as we reflect on the comic genius of Phil Hartman.

DM: See, if he would have married me, he’d still be alive. I’m crazy but I’m not Prozac crazy.

Exhibit C

I’m not sure what day this was but there’s this really annoying show called Starting Over and I was talking to Beth about an episode I had seen where this woman was trying to fulfill her dream of being a stand-up comic. Which, hey, more power to you but, y’know what? Practice might help.

DM: She sucked. She was sucky. She sucked ass big time. It was so sucky.

Yeah, in case you didn’t get it, she wasn’t very good.

Exhibit D

And this was back when Beth and Adam were still roommates, about a year or so ago. Beth was expressing concern that she didn’t see her roommate as much as she would like. That sometimes she felt that he ignored her in favor to hang out with all of his cool new gay friends (which, hey, it’s great that you had made new friends but hello! We’ve been your friends through when you were gay, then when you thought you were straight and then realized that you were gay. We know you, we accept you, quirks and all, including the midriff baring Care Bear shirt you insist on wearing public. Stop ignoring us, you dork (Love you, Adam, but ignoring your friends is not cool (Sorry. Vant over, residual resentment from the past))).

Anyway, in order to offer her a creative situation to her problem, I said the following:

DM: Well, if it would help, I suppose I could make out with you on the couch when he’s coming home.

B: Uh, no, that’s okay, Dana.

DM: Well, it’s not like I would enjoy it or anything. You’re not really my type. But that’s the sacrifice I would make for you.

B: Well, I appreciate it. But you’re really not my type either.


At 7:28 PM, The Lioness said…


At 2:57 AM, brooksba said…

DM,While I appreciate your offer, I’m glad that we came to the same conclusion. We may just be the strangest people ever. (Strike that, we’re strange in our unique way. But we’re not [insert any random person from karaoke here – like Pete. Pete is strange.])I’m glad that you’re not Prozac crazy. Please don’t hurt me. So, you never did actually answer the question about whether or not you got any pictures of people dressed up for St. Patrick’s Day in Vegas. Did you? Or was it just that one guy, you know, the one in the green?You are truly the greatest friend. Who else could fake an asthma attack for me? That means so much more than making out. Beth

At 3:17 AM, Rik said…

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