Overheard from a conversation in the recent Annual Bitches' Brew (haha) Convention:
ON BIRTHDAYS AND MEN
THE AGENT: Honestly, I don't mind you forgetting my birthday. It was the happiest and I just can't imagine you coming in and destroying the atmosphere. However, one eccentric bloke did. Wrote me a bloody note and greeted me "Merry Christmas." Some creatures are just out to insult your intelligence. That's why I'm here for you.
LUKA: A cyber-friend of mine sent me this Joan Rivers birthday card calling me a tramp and making a wild guess that I'd been laid on more floors than linoleum. Of course, that was a grand joke I enjoyed. But I oughtta put gravity on his balls because when I see him in person, I'll make two servings of omelette out of 'em. I told him that.
MICHIKO: I had intense birthday blues. I was even thinking of locking up in the room with my old boyfriend for old time's sake. But just sometime ago, I heard he was already sick with that kind of thing he does with that fart who lives next door to him. Oh God, I hurt. Then I remember I had to think about the lasagna, the beer, the kitchen, the old XB tapes, the hairspray, the color of my lipstick and how I'd react after he hands me that box with the Snoopy wrapper for the nth time.
BABETH: I was a little amused to learn that you're sympathetic to morons, turds and dorks. I'm afraid I'm more than sympathetic -- I dated Kamuning's village idiot and leading low-life for almost two years. Then he decided I, Babeth in shorts, uptown girl extra-ordinaire moi, with my Larry Silva outfits, my Sylvia Santos bags, my black leather Joan Crawford fuck-me pumps and cosmopolitan affectations, was not good for his public image. End of a potential love story. Now, I spend Saturday nights watching porn on cable.
ARNIVOROUS (a.k.a. The Greek from Munti): If my laughter could kill, all the men I've dated would've been dead by now. Ahihihi.
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