—I drove by you this weekend. You were standing alone in the Castro coughing and wheezing, bent over an exploded Sunday New York Times.
—I was having an attack of some kind, not asthma
[A month later]
—Is it true that you’re blind?
—No, I’m sighted, but my vision is impaired, it’s ailing, it’s flagging
—Do they call it flagging because it’s in trouble so it uses little flags to flag down a passing motorist for help?
[A month earlier]
—The name of tonight’s performance is Gay Semaphore
[A month earlier]
—That video game’s called Doom, right?
—Yeah, but doom also just means like a terrible cloud of misfortune
—Like a real cloud?
—Like a real cloud, but not really a real one. It’s a “metaphor”. “Figurative language.”
—Can I not work at my job anymore?
—No, you have to keep working
—ok, I am lucky to have a job
—yes, you are, and lucky to have this one. So swallow the swallowcocks or whatever it is you’re not in the mood to eat, and get on with it.
—It must be hard to be a Michelin Guide inspector, you can’t complain to anyone about how sucky it is to eat the world’s finest foods
—yeah, you are basically a michelin guide inspector, nice “Analogy”
—I have met two separate people who wrote for Beavis and Butt-Head in the past month
—how many writers did that show have? That show was super seminal and brilliant.
—All right, If anyone asks, I’ll tell them you admired Beavis and Butt-Head. I’ve still never seen Office Space
[A month or something?]
—You know how depression is a disease? That’d be funny if it were contagious
—It is contagious. My daughter caught depression from her babysitter, Daniel [sighs huge]
—Daniel made Bethany depressed?
—Yeah. There’s a lawsuit.
[A month eats a big dinner, watches TV for an hour then trundles off to bed, where it reads for forty minutes and falls asleep. Six hours later it wakes up sweaty and full of dread]