Quotes of the Moment II

[Cain]

They also probably phased out sub-editors entirely...my sister works as one, and her company recently downsized their entire sub-editorial department.  Fact-checking, spelling and grammar checks and writing titles can all be farmed out to the great unwashed masses in return for "exposure", or something.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

A more-or-less typical Wednesday evening conversation:

"I am getting tired of the word craft. Craft cocktails, craft scotch eggs, craft craft. Craft pussy on the wood fired Avenue of Roses," Charley said.

"That's so beautiful. I am wearing a craft sweatshop dress made by a hand-crafted Chinese adolescent," I replied.

"Smoking craft-made water hash with a craft-made craftless glass pipe," he said.

"I think the next big trend is uniformity. The mass-produced anonymous look."

"J Crew?"

"Totally. Gap. Assembly-line, factory-produced couture..."

"Maybe no. So many folk must wear socks."

I continued, "...reassuring. Stable. A functional cog in a social machine that is larger than all of us. A look that says 'I believe in the Collective.'"

"'And all the humans are dead,'" Charley blurted.

"So moving. Graceful. Scintillating," I broke out my rusty poetry review skills.

"I touched one. They're dead," he repeated.

Florid. My imagination was captured. "Warm in the summer sun, bloating. Soon the haciendas come."

"The Goddess Rebecca and her dusty brood of minions," he referred to our cupboard moths.

"In the aftermath the shining robot workers of the Collective will place offerings of grain in the cupboards that once held human food," I finished triumphantly.

[Freeky]

That was beautiful.   

[Eater of Clowns]

A more-or-less typical Wednesday evening conversation:

"I am getting tired of the word craft. Craft cocktails, craft scotch eggs, craft craft. Craft pussy on the wood fired Avenue of Roses," Charley said.

"That's so beautiful. I am wearing a craft sweatshop dress made by a hand-crafted Chinese adolescent," I replied.

"Smoking craft-made water hash with a craft-made craftless glass pipe," he said.

"I think the next big trend is uniformity. The mass-produced anonymous look."

"J Crew?"

"Totally. Gap. Assembly-line, factory-produced couture..."

"Maybe no. So many folk must wear socks."

I continued, "...reassuring. Stable. A functional cog in a social machine that is larger than all of us. A look that says 'I believe in the Collective.'"

"'And all the humans are dead,'" Charley blurted.

"So moving. Graceful. Scintillating," I broke out my rusty poetry review skills.

"I touched one. They're dead," he repeated.

Florid. My imagination was captured. "Warm in the summer sun, bloating. Soon the haciendas come."

"The Goddess Rebecca and her dusty brood of minions," he referred to our cupboard moths.

"In the aftermath the shining robot workers of the Collective will place offerings of grain in the cupboards that once held human food," I finished triumphantly.

[Reginald Ret]

Sometimes it's okay to be funny. 

Sometimes it's okay to be nice.  <---if you tell anyone I said that, I'll deny it, and shit in your lungs.

Out of context quotes are the best quotes!

[Cain]

Lizzie:  I think I may be most excited about Irish lit

Lizzie:  "They're always after me lucky charms!"

Cain:  enjoy 10,000 hours of James Joyce's ramblings

Lizzie:  Not sure who we are covering

Lizzie:  I think it says

Lizzie:  What do they ramble about

Lizzie:  Potatoes? And famine?

Cain:  the fucking British

Cain:  you'll be covering IRA Manifestos 1916-1962 and PIRA Manifestos 1963-1998

Cain:  and James Jpyce

Cain:  and IRA manifestos in the style of James Joyce

Cain:  and potato poetry

Cain:  by James Joyce

Cain:  term paper will be on the symbolic use of potatoes in IRA manifestos to emulate James Joyce

Lizzie:  Potatoooooos and Catholics forever

Cain:  and fuck the British

[LMNO]

 

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

Lizzie:  I think I may be most excited about Irish lit

Lizzie:  "They're always after me lucky charms!"

Cain:  enjoy 10,000 hours of James Joyce's ramblings

Lizzie:  Not sure who we are covering

Lizzie:  I think it says

Lizzie:  What do they ramble about

Lizzie:  Potatoes? And famine?

Cain:  the fucking British

Cain:  you'll be covering IRA Manifestos 1916-1962 and PIRA Manifestos 1963-1998

Cain:  and James Jpyce

Cain:  and IRA manifestos in the style of James Joyce

Cain:  and potato poetry

Cain:  by James Joyce

Cain:  term paper will be on the symbolic use of potatoes in IRA manifestos to emulate James Joyce

Lizzie:  Potatoooooos and Catholics forever

Cain:  and fuck the British

[ñͤͣ̄ͦ̌̑͗͊͛͂͗ ̸̨̨̣̺̼̣̜͙͈͕̮̊̈́̈͂͛̽͊ͭ̓͆ͅé ̰̓̓́ͯ́́͞]

Today we fumigated the apartment I just moved into, but there are still roaches scuttling around.

Roommate: This is just how it is in Fresno. There're roaches. And this is the best I've had it.

Me: (holding a battery-powered spray bottle of Raid, reading the label) I should order some more diatomaceous earth. My last roommate wouldn't let me use any and threw out my box of it.

Roommate: What is that, diet pills?

M: It's microscopic triangles that slice up roaches. He thought it was dangerous but would spray Raid in the kitchen willy nilly.

R: What? I'll have to research it.

M: It kills insects and arachnids by slicing up their joints and they die of dehydration. You just lightly powder it in their hiding places.

R: I don't want to mess with no chemicals.

M: It's not a chemical. And it's safe for humans to eat. You can buy it in food grade, people feed it to their horses.

R: How is it made then?

M: It's the fossilized bodies of diatoms. So it's made of stone over millions of years.

R: But where do people get it?

M: (I look it up on my phone) I don't know.

R: I don't know. I'll ask J about it. I don't want no chemicals in here.

M: We spray this stuff in the kitchen (I point to the Raid) and it's chemicals that actually can harm people and pets. Diatomaceous earth doesn't kill bugs through chemical means. It slices them up.

R: But what if it gets in the air?

M: The Raid actually does get in the air and it's literally poison that's airborne. The diatomaceous earth isn't good to inhale but it isn't like inhaling poison.

R: I don't know. I don't want to mess with no poison in here.

M: Oh my God. It's not poison. Why are people okay with spraying Raid all over their kitchen but not diatomaceous earth under appliances and shit?

R: How does it kill bugs then?

M: It slices them up. But we're too big for it to hurt us. It gets lodged in their joints when they crawl through it.

R: Hmmm.... So it would be like if I fed you spaghetti with glass in it?

M: Yeah, kind of. Except bugs don't have to eat it.

R: That's how my mother killed my father, she put powdered glass in his spaghetti and it cut up his intestines. (she gestures by wiggling her fingers around her stomach and makes a gagging face)

M: (I note that my roommate made us spaghetti not long after I moved in) Ah! That's horrible!

R: He was a wife beater. He abused her.

M: Whoa, maybe he deserved it then....

R: I don't want none of that stuff up in here. What if it gets in our food?

M: I will eat a bunch of it just to prove it's safe.

R: (she shakes her head and walks off) Hmm-mm, I don't wanna mess with none of that.

M: Okay. Well, I don't think my daughter will be able to visit with all the poison and roaches. (I retreat back to my room to take stock of my life)

R: (she comes to my room after a few minutes) Well, you should be able to have your daughter visit. You can put that stuff down, just show me where you put it when you do.

M: Thanks R. But I can't even afford a car right now so she won't be visiting any time soon.

R: We're going to have a car. Watch, I'm going to win Publisher's Clearing House.

M: (I attempt a smile) That would be nice. (I watch a large roach run underneath my dresser)

[Q. G. Pennyworth]

Fuck roaches so hard. At least sense kind of won in the end?

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

Sweet merciful fuck, you're living with a moron.

[ñͤͣ̄ͦ̌̑͗͊͛͂͗ ̸̨̨̣̺̼̣̜͙͈͕̮̊̈́̈͂͛̽͊ͭ̓͆ͅé ̰̓̓́ͯ́́͞]

Fuck roaches so hard. At least sense kind of won in the end?

Yeah, I suppose. I don't know how I feel about using the "think of the children" argument, but it was really my main concern. I hate roaches but if it were only me that I had to worry about it would just be a nasty annoyance that I wouldn't make a big deal about.

[ñͤͣ̄ͦ̌̑͗͊͛͂͗ ̸̨̨̣̺̼̣̜͙͈͕̮̊̈́̈͂͛̽͊ͭ̓͆ͅé ̰̓̓́ͯ́́͞]

Sweet merciful fuck, you're living with a moron.

Maybe. She's lived on the streets for a lot of her life and recently had a stroke, so I cut her a lot of slack.

[Cain]

We need a picture of your housemate, so we can put "fucking diatomaceous earth, how does it work?" over it and turn her into an overused meme in the pest control community.

[Doktor Howl]

"I say to you, get up and walk!" Immediately the SJW rose on his feet and began checking the privileges of everyone around him. He looked at Jesus and said, "'Get up and walk,' seriously? I mean, I'm glad I can walk again, but really, you're kind of a shitlord." Jesus told the manchild, "Your rage has healed you. Go in peace, or whatever you use instead."

- Nathaniel Sullivan