Smeagol is Free!
A hermitudinal view of...stuff...


My Doggy

When we were roomies in 509, the initial moments of a typical conversation between us went something like this:

Goose: "Yo, fagnut!"
Me: "Whatup man."
Goose: "It's about time you got home!"
Me: "What are you, my doggy? All you do all day is wait by the door and wag your tail?"
Goose: "Whatever. You know you love me."
Me: "Don't remind me. It's one of my many faults."

Now, however, since I've moved away and Goose got married to 509 resident #4.5, Michelle (relax people, she didn't really live with us at 509, it just seemed like she did...goodness knows she was there more than the other two official roomies), our conversations tend a little more toward the Melodramatic, rather than the Odd Couple.

Me: "Whatup man."
Goose: "Hey man, I saw you called. Are you ok?"
Me: "Yeah...why would I not be ok?"
Goose: "The only time you call me is when there's a crisis."
Me: "Do not! Can't I call just because I actually would like to converse with my vertically challenged and horizontally aggressive friend?"
Goose: "Whatever. I still bunker people like a madman...yup...that's right."
Me: "Yeah yeah yeah."
Goose: "So no crisis?"
Me: "You're a moron."
Goose: "Dude, you still didn't answer the question."

As you can see, we're very comfortable around one another...even several thousand miles apart. The little dude in the pic with him is Ben, Goose and Michelle's spawn. Another one is on the way. I fear for their neighbors. So should you.

posted by Bolo | 4:25 PM
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