Are You Gonna Eat That?

This is how my closest friend and I generally talk to each other in emails.

The fact that in her world a butterfly sounds more like a very drunk pirate just means we groove pretty well.

No. Not that way. Gutter dwellers.

I’m all, “Dude. Black and brown flannel? You landed on black and
> brown flannel?” and he’s all, “Ahhh.” *open close. open close* and I
> said, “I’m smoking.” And he’s like, “It’s ok. Ahhhhh.” And I stood
> there awhile and then said, “I’m kind of done and have to go in.”
> and he’s like, “It’s ok. I’ll go with you.” and I said, “You can’t.
> Dog’ll eat you. Go home.” and he’s like, “Five more minutes?” and I
> said, “No. I’ve been out here two minutes longer than normal. Go
> home.” and you know, I poked him. And he’s like, “Not leaving.” so I
> pulled the fabric up and he’s like, “Still not leaving!” and I said,
> “Yes you are.” and I tented the fabric up and he’s hanging onto
> like, 1/4 inch of fabric now. So he’s like, “NOOOOO!!!” and I said,
> “Too bad.” and picked him up and he’s not letting go of my finger.
> So I start shaking my hand over the railing and he went flying.
>
> I think he cussed me out.

>> Actually what he said as he flew off was “SAUCY WENCH! iiiiiiiiii
>> LIKE IT! RAWR BABY RAWR!”