Important points to know:
1. Anna is my best friend. The autocorrect on her phone is mildly handicapped. Lon is her husband.
2. Rose is one of my other best friends. She has kitchen issues.
3. This is an actual three-way Facebook conversation. It took place last night, just before bedtime.
4. Names have been changed to protect the hernia.
5. I put considerable time into cleaning up Anna’s grammar to make this more readable. Her messages are kind of like reading a script for a character with Tourette’s Syndrome.
6. When Rose speaks of expanding on the hats, she means broadening the market of our My Little Pony Hats for Penises campaign that has been ongoing for a decade or longer.
Rose: If anyone’s interested I have a cooking/kitchen tip. When cubing parsnips, do NOT stab yourself. Moreover, don’t stab the knife into your thumb joint!!!!!
Anna: Gah nasty other Han flesh would what’s up
Me: Haha… are you on Spanish autocorrect again?
Rose: Han flesh. The Solo type?
Anna: Oh god! The horror of my typing. No Spanish auto correct. I am on the ipad.
Rose: Shouldn’t that make it easier to type. You know, bigger letters and all.
Anna: And it has these things to play with:
Rose: You play with poop …Or is that chocolate?
Anna: I’m hoping poop.
Me: Pudding. Eyeball pudding.
Anna: Sexy eyeball pudding.
Rose: My iPhone suddenly feels inadequate. You have pictures and stuff. I don’t think I’ll be able to keep up if you start speaking in pictograms.
Me: “Hey! Rosey just severed her own knuckle with a kitchen knife! Poop!”. That’s what I’m getting from this conversation. Which honestly sounds like something we’ve probably said while drinking.
Anna: Lon is off for the next month. He is awaiting surgery for a hernia. Meany won’t let me name it!
Me: Herbie. Done.
Anna: Yeah, he didn’t like it.
Me: Doesn’t matter if HE likes it. Did the HERNIA approve?
Anna: He won’t let me near it to ask.
Me: See… that’s just selfish. I think I’d want to pet the hernia if it was that close to me everyday.
Anna: It does poke a little but mostly …now that he has a cold, he just clutches himself and coughs like a grandma in church.
Rose: He’s not just a member of the hernia club for men … Can we expand to little hats for hernias? It’s a whole new market.
Me: Capes. Herbie needs a cape.
Anna: HATS FOR HERNIAS!
Rose: It’s the new charity craze!
Anna: Where are you gonna tie the cape? We’ll have to staple it on!
Me: And maybe a toupe.
Rose: And a handlebar mustache
Me: Medical tape, Ann. Think outside the box.
Anna: This may require a sharpie … Crazy glue… And some fur…
Rose: Oooo… now we’re talking.
Me: Herbie needs an Amadeus wig.
Anna: Funny enough, I have all that – including the medical tape – right here… You mean like with the little rollers in it?
Anna: We may need chloroform for this one It might get intensive.
Me: “Honey, smell this rag… does it smell weird to you?”
Anna: Wait. We can’t do that! Who’s gonna do the dishes?
Me: He won’t be knocked out forever. And when he wakes up, he and Herbie the Fabu can do dishes together!
Anna: Her ice the fabu. Now he has a title
Me: I’m just kind of assuming “Her ice the fabu” would be the official introduction… like the hernia version of “Her royal highness”