“Dammit, dude!”
“When did you start doing public works projects, dude?”
“Huh?”
“Damming a river that’s not in Egypt.”
“Riiight, dude. Fun-eeee. Who’s your writer, and when did they sack him from his job at the Death Valley Comedy Club?”
“At least he was working.”
“And I’m not?!? What about this gas-pumping gig? And why? Never mind, I know why. It’s so certain people can look good. ‘Gas tank fills up by itself. It’s a miracle.’ Sheesh.”
“You’re just part of the magic, dude.”
“Magic my electronic ass, dude! You ever try picking up a gas nozzle with virtual hands?”
“I’m more impressed by your ability to pay for it with your virtual money, dude.”
“Whoh-ah! Dude Speaks Truth. Don’t tell him, folks, he’ll get a fat head, and he’s already having enough trouble carrying around the one he’s got. You seen the price of gas around here? And every time you blink, the friggin’ needle’s on “E”. It’s enough to make a dude take up walking.”
“On virtual feet?”
“Maybe the soles of your sneakers won’t wear out so fast, dude.”
“Hey, dude.”
“What?”
“Speaking of asses …”
“Let’s not and say we did.”
“Too late. You know why the British call this stuff petrol, don’t you?”
“No.”
“So they can make a clear distinction between a fuel and a health hazard. You eat any more of those chili dogs, I’m evacuating this car. And I’m taking away your virtual matches. You light up anything in here, I don’t want to be responsible for the outcome.”
“Dude?”
“What?”
“Pull my finger.”
– O Ceallaigh
Copyright © 2007 Felloffatruck Publications. All wrongs deplored.
All opinions are mine as a private citizen.
You’re pullin’ my leg!
I know nobodies makin’ up these conversations… … … y’all crack me up!
I KNEW when I read the title – that I should have skipped the post! 🙂
Pee-yew, schtinky.