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21 February 2006

In one of these conversations, I am italic. In the other, I am not.


A conversation between a mother and a daughter

These pants are too short.

No, they’re not.

Yes, they are. You can see ankle. They’re practically floods!

They look just fine to me.

New pants must be bought. This is ridiculous.

They’ve got several months still in them. No new pants. These are fine.

A conversation between a woman and her cat

Meeow. I want to go outside.

You can’t. It is literally freezing outside, and when we let you out after 7 PM you don’t come back by the time we go to bed at 10:30.

Meeeooooow. If you loved me you’d let me go outside. Mrawl!

It’s because I love you that I won’t let you go outside.

Just open the door. Come on, I neeeeeeeed to be outside.


All the cool cats are outside!


You just hate me!

[moving away from the back door].

Meeeeeeeooooooooooooooooow! I hate you!

. . .

What? Is that a cat treat you’ve got there? [rubbing up against a leg]. I looooove you. You’re the best.

Now, can I go outside?


Word for word, conversations I have had recently in this realm. True dat.

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