Google-Talking Ourselves out of Fitness:

me: Is it possible to feel too fat for the gym?

marky: I'm right there with ya. I feel more like doing whatever is opposite of the gym. Which, I guess, is what I am doing right now.

me: I need better gym clothes... that's my thing.

marky: There ya go! Let's go shopping for gym clothes, instead.

me: Where?

marky: Shrug..Target?

me: I could use a Target run.

marky: Sweet.

me: But now I am in ugly gym clothes, so give me a few to change into real clothes again.

marky: Lemme get out of these silly gym clothes. Heh... we're funny.

The Secret Life of Marky

My friend Marky has a secret life. He has an entire friend network I've never met. For the longest time I just assumed they were all made up, and served as an excuse why he couldn't accompany me on errands. Then I met one of his imaginary friends, and it turns out he's indeed a real person with a name and everything! But, of course, I instantly forgot his name, so when I see him around town I never say hello. Which isn't a big deal because I'm positive he hates me. There's no other explanation for his odd behavior.

It started at Cafe Niche when I was having brunch with my girlfriends. Non-imaginary friend sat down at the table next to us, drank a little coffee and then bolted to a table across the room. Recognizing him as one of Marky's friends I tried my best to keep the offensive brunch conversation to a minimum by not saying vagina over and over, so I knew that wasn't the reason for his move.

I noticed him again at one of my favorite lunch spots and he did his best to avoid any contact with me. Over the course of a month there's been quite a few run-ins, without any acknowledgment on either of our parts.

I can't help but wonder what Marky is telling his friends to make them hate me so. Is it that I made him leave the U game early to take me to the library? Or is it because I doubted their existence to begin with?

To Each Their Own Smack

Do you have a justification dance? I do. It's cute and geeky all at the same time. And today I had the opportunity to share it with everyone in the parking lot of Blockbuster.

I went with Marky to pick up some crack cocaine, or Deadwood, whatever. Do not deny this boy his smack. He gets moody! As we were checking out Marky was lingering near the treats. I kindly reminded him we were stopping at Maverick for drinks and Sunchips. The cashier got excited, which is not normal. (The Hollywood Video near my house employs zombie kids. I'm sure they are just hungover and puffy from the previous night, but I'm sticking with the zombie story.) The cashier and I, we bonded over cinamon flavored Sunchips. I discovered them at a truck stop in Evanston and have been in love ever since. Seriously, churros in a bag. It's a beautiful thing.

As usual Marky has been forced to accept my obsessions. Meaning he's driven me to countless gas stations on the hunt for them. Sadly, they're not so easy to find. I was so excited that someone else was just as addicted. Suddenly I felt normal. Of course only for a brief second, because that's when the parking lot of people saw me dancing around with my fist in the air--ala Rocky Balboa.

My Lack of Communication Skills

I started going grocery shopping with Marky. For two reasons: 1) He always drives, and 2) I don't have to talk to people, therefore keeping the name calling to a minimum.

So yesterday when the following conversation took place:

Mark: Wanna go to myer frank at some point today?

Me: I need cottage cheese, so yes.

Mark: Cool. I'll ping ya when I get out of the movie

I didn't think twice about it, until I got in the car.

Me: I brought my library books to return since it's right by the grocery store.
Mark: Ok. Did you want to go to the grocery store too?
Me: I thought we were going to Fred Meyers.
Mark: Um, no I said Myer and Frank, and besides there's no such thing as Fred Meyer anymore, it's Smiths now.
Me: Shit. So it didn't dawn on you I was confused when I said something about cottage cheese.
Mark: No. Cottage cheese is a major part of our lives now.

And he's right. Since I'm addicted to cottage cheese, I forced my addiction onto him. It's just easier that way.

Sunday Whores

me: my peach chips are addicting.

why you need to know this? beats me.

mark: we are chip whores,

that's why

me: there are worse things.

mark: true

me: i'd rather be a chip whore than just a whore.

it's the chips that separate me.

mark: I like to be a little of both, but maybe that is only cause I am bored right now....

Always the Pervert

Marky and I went to Costco today for supplies: potato chips and water. I commented on his new pants and he said, "I like them, but the pockets are too small and my shit is way too big."

How am I not supposed to take that dirty? Seriously.

Undeserved Punishment!

Marky made me go here:
Because I made him go here: