Amelia

Jodi keeps a long story quiet

I finally broke down and went over to the monkee cube and told him to keep his voice down. He was on a call, at the time, but was getting all riled up. So I pantomimed “Can you please lower your voice?” No response. He looked at me, with a fairly impertinent look, I might add. Nada. Perhaps he didn’t even know what it was I was trying to say. Maybe that look was confusion. But I think I shocked him enough to lower his voice. And now I am a hero. The high fives are coming fast and furious, kids.

It’s only temporary. In fact, the shock has already worn off. But I can’t hear him through my headphones right now, and that’s an improvement. That’s kind of my litmus test. Surely, if I can hear him with music playing in my ears, the person on the phone is suffering aural pain.

You want to shoot yourself? Go look at our weather for the next five days… sunny and 80’s!

Amelia: unnecessary.

Me: yeah, I don’t need to see a weather report..

Amelia: we already want to shoot ourselves!

Me: Amen, my brother!

Amelia and Jodi: *snicker*

Besides, it’s not even true. Saturday and Sunday look like they are going to be in the upper 60’s.

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Amelia, evildeb, work

Amelia keeps a long story short.

Mock-monkee-speak has become so common place in our vernacular, I don’t even notice I am doing it sometimes.

Evildeb: Hey! What s’up, man?

Me: Hey! Not much,. S’up with you, my brother?

Then we ask other people “what s’up” and they wonder why we laugh when they answer.

Me: Hey! What s’up, Amelia?!

Amelia: Do not speak to me in that manner.

Me: Whoa… chill out, my brother.

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