Ok, ok, a P story

Ive decided that today's post is going to be themed. Phone calls, to be precise. Here are two phone calls I've received in the last couple of days that left me with a general feeling of "Did he really just call me for that?"

This one came in at about midnight on a school night.

Me: Hello?
P: M!
Me: P? You ok?
P: My car! The key is stuck in the ignition!
Me: Ummm, ok. Where are you?
P: At N's house.
Me: What? You're at a house?
P: I don't know what to do!
Me: Call AAA, dude.
P: Yeah, that's what N said to do.
Me: Dude! What do you think I can do that AAA can't?
P: Ummm, yeah, so I'll call them.
Me: Uh, yeah. Seriously, P.
P: BYE!

I was not the only person telling this tale of woe the next day, apparently the cell phone network was all a flutter with P's distress signals, the last of which went to AAA...

Phone call number two....

Me: Bueno.
P: M! It's P!
Me: What's up, P?
P: I can't connect to the internet!
Me: Oh, you at the office? Is it down?
P: No, I'm at home.
Me:...
P: What do I do?!
Me: Figure it out.
P: Listen, listen. M. I can't get to Google.
Me: Dude, just reset or something.
P: I CAN'T GET TO GOOGLE!
Me: I'm eating, P. You'll survive.
P: Fine. Fine. I guess I'll just figure it out or just have no internet.
Me: Martyr much?
P: What?
Me: Nothing, I'll talk to you later.

So effing frustrating

The post refers to the bike referenced in The Bike Incident

P: Can I buy your bike?
Me: For how much?
P: How much did it cost?
Me: $2700.
P: What?!
Me: It's a nice bike. It got me to school and work every day for like 2 years, I wanted a good one.
P: Ok, how much do you want?
Me: What do you think is fair?
P: Well, it was in an accident.
Me: Holy crap, dude. YOU were the one that crashed it!
P: Still, it was crashed, it's not new.
Me: So you're saying I should expect less money from you because it was in an accident that you caused?
P: Why do you make everything I say sound stupid?
Me: All I'm doing is summarizing what you said, if you think it's dumb...
P: Fine, how about $300.
Me: Dude, $300 for a $2700 bike?
P: Well, it was in an accident.
Me: Oh my God, P, you're going to make me shoot myself in the face.
P: Fine $1200.
Me: Ok, that sounds like a deal.
P: Ok.

::: Next Day :::

P: Listen, I can't be held responsible for this bike.
Me: What, your new bike?
P: Yeah, I don't want it.
Me: Honestly, P. You're killing me here.
P: Ok, good, so it's your bike, cause I don't want it.
Me: If you didn't want it, why did you ask if you could.....nevermind. Yes, P, it's still my bike.

Return of P

The following took place at about 4am...

* thump * .... * THUMP * THUMP * THUMP! *
P: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!
Me: P?
P: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!
* THUMP * THUMP * THUMP *
Me: P! HEY! YOU OK!
P: I'M OK! I'M * THUMP * THUMP * OK!
Me: What the hell is going on?
P: I'm ok! My shield fell down.
Me: Your "shield"?!
P: I built a shield to keep the bad guys out, it's ok, it just fell on me.
Me: You have got to be f&*%ing kidding me. I'm going back to sleep.

The shield consisted of several layers of blankets and cardboard propped up over the windows to "keep out the bad guys". Unfortunately, our friend P is not a master craftsman and the integrity of the shield was compromised due to the overpowering force of P's nighttime pocket fan. My fingers are crossed for shield version 2, and hopefully, I will be able to post pictures of a complex system of levers and pulleys.

He's Back!

Our friend P has returned from his jaunt to Canadia, and as if trying to say "I missed you, M" in his own special way...

P: Did you buy something new?
Me: I dunno. Like what?
P: You smell different. Like cologne or something?
Me: Ummm...no.....Do I smell like "gym"?
P: Maybe. It smells good. You have a nice musk.
Me: Wow. That's creepy, dude.

If she weighs the same as a duck...

As requested by anon, the witchcraft incident...

C: When is his birthday?
Me: Late February, why?
C: I'm gonna try something...

P: Hi! I'm P!
C: Nice to meet you.
P: So you guys know about aliens, right?
C: Aliens?
P: Yes!
C: Ok...did you recently have a change in your life?
P: YES!
C: You're a Pisces, aren't you?
P: HOLY SH**! YOU'RE A WITCH!
C: No, it's a gift.
P: WITCHCRAFT!
C: Wait..calm down, I was kidding, M told me...
P: JESUS!
Me: Dude. Dude! Calm down, she's not a witch, it was a joke...
P: M! I learned about people like her. She can do witchcraft. Be careful!!
Me: * sigh * See I told you.
C: Wow. I thought you were exaggerating.

Puss in boots ain't got $hit on me

P: How long would it take to drive to Canada from here?
Me: I dunno, maybe 2 days.
P: AAAHHH! DON'T DO THAT!
Me: What! What did I do?
P: Look at me like that, you're freaking me out!
Me: What?
P: With the big eyes. STOP IT!
Me: What? Did I raise my eyebrows or something? I was guessing, it was a reflex.
P: STOP LOOKING AT ME!
Me: DUDE! I make eye contact with people I'm talking to, sorry.
P: But your eyes are so big!
Me: HAHAHAH Sorry. I won't look at you.
P: You must have been a beautiful baby boy with those big blue eyes.
Me: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

I guess I'm going to hell, but it's so easy...

P: I have to go back to Canada.
Me: You mean Canadia?
P: No, it's called Canada.
Me: Aren't you Canadian?
P: Yeah.
Me: I'm American, that means I'm from America. You're Canadian, doesn't that mean you're from Canadia?
P: Oh....well, maybe.
Me: Yeah, that's what I thought, you better get your facts straight.
P: Shit.
Me: Yeah, good luck getting back, you don't even know what country you're from.

If you're friends with P, well then you're friends with me

I have to admit, I've just been waiting to use that tag line. I'm a media whore, so what? Well, anyways, apparently the blog is quite popular amongst those who know the P and here's a submission from a mutual acquaintance.

J, S and M2 sitting in a room....

P: Is it true that a yeast infection smells like brussel sprouts?
J: WHAT?!
P: Brussel sprouts, I have no experience.
S: Umm....Yeah, exactly like that.
J: I mean, yeah, you didn't know that?
P: Ok. So those are the long green things with the stuff at the end?
M2: No, that's asparagus, they're like small round things with a bunch of leaves.
P: OH! Miniature cabbage!
J: Yeah, they look like that.
P: No, that's what it's actually called.
M2: No, it's brussel sprouts.
P: Umm, no, in Canada we call it the real name, miniature cabbage.
M2: You serious? You're fucking with us.
P: No. If you guys don't know it's not my fault.
J: So if I go to Canada and ask for "miniature cabbage" I'll get that?
P: Well, umm......you don't know anything!!!!
* storms out of the room *
J: Wow. I'm writing that one down.

George Lucas ain't got nothin'

P: Hey...hey.
Me: Yes?
P: Talk to me.
Me: HA! You're a girl. About what?
P: Did I ever tell you about my movie?
Me: Nope.
P: I'm going to make a movie. It's about a spaceman, in space.
Me: Ok.
P: He falls out of the spaceship and he floats between planets.
Me: A dude just floats by himself in space?
P: Yeah, he has food and water and air. Cool, huh?
Me: Yeah, but you might want to add some action to it.
P: Well, maybe he gets picked up by humans.
Me: Why humans? Aliens!
P: Aliens are everywhere.
Me: I know. Dude, there's one outside right now!
P: C'mon...you can only see aliens with infrared.
Me: Infrared?
( Looks at me like I am the most un-informed human on the planet )
P: Uh, yeah, because they're usually cloaked.
Me: Cloaked!?
P: Yeah, but even if they're not, they move too fast, you wouldn't be able to see them anyways.
Me: Like Superman!
P: No, Superman is fantasy, c'mon.
Me: Right, we're talking about the REAL beings from another planet that move faster than a speeding bullet.
P: Right.
Me: Do they do anything cool like solve crimes or something?
P: You know what, you never take this seriously.
Me: Sorry.
P: Yeah, just wait until they come, then you WILL be sorry, cause I'll be prepared and you won't.

Latinese

Yet another glorious outburst by P. God bless the weekend. There is a Monk-Morial day marathon on, and P just isn't down with our American school jargon.

Lt. Discher: Monk is coming up, it was Trudy's Alma Mater
Lt. Stottlemayer: Great.
P: What the FUCK!
P: Alma Mater?! Phi beta kappa phi phi beta!
P: What's wrong with you Americans? Making up words all the time?!
Me: It's Latin, and Greek. You guys don't have that?
P: What the F*&^ is Alma Mater?! Think you're sooooo cool with you're FU*(ing words!
Me: It just means you graduated from somewhere, it's vocab, dude.
P: Whatever, where I'm from, we say what we mean.
Me: Wow, taking it a little personal, aren't you?
P: You guys are just trying to make everyone else feel dumb with your secret language.
Me: Latin is the basis of nearly every European language, it's no secret.
P: Well, then....phi beta beta phi phi beta, you guys are dumb.
Me: It's ok, P, we'll get you a hot dog.
P: Weinershnitzel?
Me: Sure.
P: Ok.

Unbreakable

P, being a true believer of the aliens, conspiracies, etc, ensures that one of the constants at our humble home is Unsolved Mysteries. Yes, all of the re-runs on Lifetime for Women from the 1980's are recorded diligently, watched, and studied. The subject of tonight's episode / lesson was "Diabolical Minds". This included the black widow; in this case, a woman who poisoned her victims for cash money...

P: That's BULLSHIT!!
Me: What is?
P: You don't have to die, he's WEAK!
Me: She poisoned him.
P: It only worked cause he's depressed! If someone poisoned me, I'd be fine. My mind would take over!
Me: It's poison, you'd die.
P: No! I'm like Rasputin! I would know, and it wouldn't work, you have no idea.
Me: Do you even know how your body works?
P: I know how my mind works, and it's powerful, it can overpower poison.
Me: Poison shuts down your organs, you...nevermind.
P: I'm like Rasputin, you'll see when I don't die.
Me: Ok, dude, poison doesn't work on you.
( about 30 seconds of silence )
P: Do you think balloons go into space?
Me: What!? HAHAHAHAHAHHAAH

The Box

It begins with a telephone call...

P: M!
Me: P!
P: I'm at home.
Me: Cool...
P: Yeah, so I'm here, and well, there's a box out front.
Me: Ok...
P: It's addressed to you! What do I do?!
Me: What?
P: Do I bring it back to work? Should I leave it there?
Me: How about take it inside....
P: Good idea! I'll see you at work.

Act II. The Office

P: So, about that box...
Me: Yes?
P: Ummmm....do you want me to open it?
Me: That's ok, I'll do it.
P: It's ok. I'll open it if you want me to.
Me: It's fine, I'll do it.
P: Ok, then just tell me what's in it.
Me: What?
P: If I don't get to open it, then tell me what's in it.
Me: Don't ask questions about the box.
P: What?
Me: As far as anyone here is concerned, there is no box.
P: Oh my god! You promise you'll show me later?!?!
Me: We'll see.....

So hot right now

P: I just got home!
Me: Yeah?
P: Yeah, I went to N's house.
Me: Did you have fun?
P: Her roommate is so hot.
Me: Yeah?
P: Yeah, she's all tan and her legs.... She's like....like...a camp counselor!
Me: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

He can read minds!

P: You know, when I'm stoned, I can tell what people are thinking.
D: Really? How?
P: Like when someone starts a sentence, I know how it's going to end.
D: Wow. So if you were stoned, you would be able to tell me the end of this; "You are a fucking..."
P: Ummm.......THE MAN!
D: Whoa. You're right, I was going to say "You are a fucking The Man".
P: I told you.

Liar! Liar!

Dedicated to Ree-Anne, a.k.a. RJ

The set up for this one is simple; Liar, Liar is on TV, and my favorite hound is at the house for the weekend. For some reason, Hound who normally loves anything with a heartbeat, is scared to death of P. Cross that with P's gullible ways and the situation is just ripe for parody. Ripe!

TV: "..that for just 1 day, you couldn't tell a lie..."
Me ( to Hound ): Don't worry, I wouldn't lie to you.
Me ( to Hound ): P does though. He lies to you all the time.
P: WHAT! No! I don't lie to her!
Me ( to hound ): Don't listen to him, he could be lying right now.
P: NO!
P ( to Hound ): NO! Don't listen to him! I don't lie to you! I promise.
P: Why are you telling her that?
Me ( to Hound ): Who are you going to believe?
P: I DON'T LIE TO HER!!
P ( to Hound ): I really don't! I don't lie to you!
Hound: WOOF!
Me: See, she knows.
P: F*%^! WHAT ELSE DO YOU TELL HER?!?

I can't hold it in anymore....

So P has been fairly normal for the past week. I know, boring, right? My little blog hobby has been put on haitus due to a lack of material. No UFOs, no time travel, no accusing people of being witches ( did I put that one in here, "AHH That's witchcraft!", hmmm, I'll check later ). Anyways,
it has apparently been bottling up and fermenting. After a week of stewing, it all came rushing out...concentrated.

P: FUCK!
Me: What?
P: I HATE TRANSEXUALS!
Me: HA HA. What? Oh, Eddie Izzard? He's a transvestite.
P: They both start with "T". GOD DAMMIT.
Me: Dude, what's happening with you?
P: GOD! I hate this girl! Why is she calling me!?
P: No, I don't, I shouldn't have said that. She's nice.
P: NO! I don't like her! Stop calling me.
P: I don't mean that, it's bad to say.
Me: ...Whoa. You ok?
P: Yeah. I'm gonna call N. I just wanted that time traveler video to be real, you know?
Me: Wow.

2012

One of P's favorite conspiracy genre theories is that the world is going to end in 2012. Validation came last night while watching Heroes.

Subtitle: 5 years from now...
Hiro: The bomb, it went off...

P: HOLY SHIT!!!! 2012! I TOLD YOU!!
Me: It's a tv show.
P: I'M A FUCKING GENIUS!
Me: Guess so. You know, maybe they're just playing into that whole 2012 thing.
P: NO! It's a sign.
Me: You're probably right...

Miracles and Modern Medicine

Unfortunately, I was only on the listening side of the phone call, so the conversation is one sided...

P: Yeah, she was great.
........
P: Yeah, I would recommend her.
........
P: Yeah, I feel so much better, it's like my lungs are filled with air!

Performance Anxiety

P: When I was 16, I used to work handing out pretzel pieces in the mall.
Me: That sounds like fun.
P: Yeah, there was this girl there that I liked, so I told her I could move things with my mind.
Me: That would do it for me.
P: She asked me to show her.
Me: Well, yeah.
P: See, but I told her that because I thought I really could if I tried hard enough.
Me: Did you show her?
P: Oh, it ended up I couldn't do it, so I told her I'd show her later. It sucked.

I got no legs

C: Yes, kind of like the one by the restaurant we went to...
P: It would suck not to have any legs, huh?
Me: Yeah.
P: I mean, no legs, can you imagine?
Me: That would suck.
P: Here I am worrying about a car when there's people out there with no legs.