Sunday night:
Sister: Tell Dad he's a pimp.
Chicken: Dad, you're a pimp!
Me: Tell Auntie Sister to stop encouraging you to say "pimp."
Chicken: Auntie Sister, stop encouraging me to say "pimp!"
(pause)
Chicken: Dad, you're a pimp!
So long as man remains free he strives for nothing so incessantly and so painfully as to find someone to worship.
Sunday night:
Sister: Tell Dad he's a pimp.
Chicken: Dad, you're a pimp!
Me: Tell Auntie Sister to stop encouraging you to say "pimp."
Chicken: Auntie Sister, stop encouraging me to say "pimp!"
(pause)
Chicken: Dad, you're a pimp!
In the space of about ten minutes, Sister and I reached the following conclusions:
Sister's boss wants to be Madonna. (Her boss is male.)
Keeks also wants to be Madonna.
Sister works with Rasputin. (She's been shot, stabbed, burned, hanged, electrocuted, and poisoned. She still won't quit.)
The word "snatch" will make Sister giggle every time it's spoken.
Sister wants to be a "wanking assistant."
I like number two.
The Animatrix has one of the coolest soundtracks ever.
Marriedman's photo is indeed authentic, therefore he is indeed a hottie.
Sister has lost her nipples in an unfortunate frostbite incident.
My five year-old son is a pimp.
And this was just ten minutes. Imagine all the shit we come up with on a typical Friday night.