the other day vince and i were talking, and kitschy phrases that should not be used, came up. vince abhors, in particular, “all that jazz”, but he had forgotten about it until i brought it up and i was happy to remind hjim.
last night, we had a friend over and he was talking about some sort of awkwardness at a gathering, where “the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife” — and did a little slicing motion with his hands (which are long and knobby). i think my gut weeped a little. i never want to hear about anything being thick enough to slice again. even cheddar cheese or cheesecake.
also, the mother makes no sense on the internet:
z: it is naked w fires sticking out hte way it is now
o, mumsy. (gets clumsy with her thai ping sumtines.
