Setting:Our dog sleeps in the kitchen, but he has several rules about that. 1. No leaky faucets. 2. No insects that buzz/make noise. 3. He will make random demands to come into the house in the middle of the night. 4. There has to be a night light.
Me:Mom, the night light in the kitchen burnt out. I took the extra one in the bathroom for [the dog].
Mom:Really? Are you sure. He might not like that one. He's picky.
Setting:driving my mother around town. Mother not totally computer literate, just functional enough to send short emails with no attachments and use accounting software.
Mother:The other day I had to go help [insert name of friend/former employer], and I had to use the old software to do some work. But the license ran out already because it was from a few years ago. You know what I did?
Me:No, what did you do?
Mother:I changed the clock on the computer. I turned it to 2008 and it let me use the software again!
This is why she is great. Yar, sail those seas, Mommy!
I will kill you. I will kill you soon. Or I will go to sleep and then you will suck my blood like the little vampire that you actually are. Oh yes, I know you for your true colours, you conniving little evil pestilence. But guess what? I’m going to tell you now that you’ll die very shortly. Will it be because I smacked the hell out of you? Will it be because I’m going set a trap for you using blood, urine, and feces from a leper stewing in it’s juices under a hot Mediterranean sun then jarred and specially imported for your demise? Or will it be that your life expectancy is fairly short and you’ve already lived a portion of it? Who is to say? So live in fear for your solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short life. Asshole.