Monday, March 31, 2014

I did NOT forget this existed!

Our work and sleep schedules have not been in sync these past few months. I've been getting up and going to work just after Dorian goes to bed, so I haven't heard much of him lately.

But my site is closed for this week, and lookit that, new material!

"You are my stickbug. My little stickbug." (Rolls over, snuggles me.) "And you are caught in my web of love!"

"Oh, so you're just gonna sit here and drink coffee at your desk all day." (Sincerely, apologetically.) "Oh, no, no, don't get up, you're fine. It's not a problem."

"I've got that boom boom pow..."

And, finally, this incident:

I am asleep, my back to Dorian, who is facing me. I wake up to him giggling--no, cackling loudly in his sleep. His cackles continue enthusiastically for several seconds...and then he punches me in the back of the head. (Very lightly, he was asleep, after all.)

As I lay there dumbfounded, he make a gleeful noise, sighs happily, and snuggles back into his pillow.

Saturday, January 18, 2014

Morpheus II

"Haha, instead of 'faulty logic,' 'salty logic.' It's logic that makes certain people annoyed. Like when I have to go through semantics with you."

"Goddammit! The Dream King's being a fucker today. He's not letting me go."

Monday, January 13, 2014

Sir Synth-A-Lot

(Dorian, impressed): "I did not know your screwdriver was that big."
Me: "What?"
(In a tone that suggests this is obvious, and explains everything: "You weren't on Star Trek."

"I was meant to start a riot."

"Adom! Are you there?!"
"Yeah, I'm here."
"Oh. Nightmare confirmed. You do look good with earrings, though."

"What is it?...Oh, ok, that's what I thought. No, it looks good, I like it, it just (lapses into Spanish, spends next ten seconds talking in approving tones and nodding his head vigorously.)"

"Ugh, ugh, ugh, rocks. Backing up top to bottom. Popping the front loads. Never moving for anything. Poprocks."

"Zzz...Here, have a synthesizer."
"Where'd you get a synthesizer?"
"Took it off that homeless guy."
(Suppressing laughter.) "What? Give it back."
"No! He doesn't need it, he's homeless!"
"Exactly, that's all he's got. Give it back to him."
(Whining, loudly and petulantly, like a locomotive in the night) "Nooooooooooo...o..okay, fine."

"I like big butts and I can not lie, you other brothas can't deny, when a (grabs my rear end)...mmmm...I found a butt. Adom!"
"I found a butt."

Conversation between Dorian, Arthur, and myself, on the subject of our Dagorhir friend, Drunken Bob:

Me: (Something about letting friends of ours use our camp shower, mention D-Bob as someone we'd both likely be okay with using it. "We could share it with Drunken Bob," or something.)
Arthur: "I would share a shower with that man." (He was not speaking in a sexual context; D-Bob is one of the most pleasant and good-natured fellows you could meet.)
Me: "I know, right? Yeah."
Dorian: "I wouldn't."
(Both of us look at him quizzically.)
Dorian: "He looks like he'd be a water hog."
Arthur and myself: "Oh. Yeah...yeah, he does."