Exerpts from a recent phone conversation with my Mother.
On fan death:
...well maybe there's some truth to that.
No, no, no no no, no there's not.
On my 17 year old brother's gf:
...I ran into a woman at the bank who's related to this girl and she said "All I can say is that I hope he has a lot of comdoms." She's only 14 but I know she's been active for a while. And her mother practices witchcraft.
What kind of bank line-up talk is that? Everyone knows you can't say condoms in line at the bank! Also, witchcraft? Really?
On sending me a package in the mail:
...I sure hope they don't open it and check what's inside.
Side bar on that one, my mother simply does not understand how borders work. Last year when she flew from Alberta to Quebec she was sure they wouldn't let her carry-on a green pepper plant because it was across borders (Why carry-on a green pepper plant? She swears hers are better than all others. She pollinates them herself becuase she doesn't trust the bees, see.) She also doesn't really understand the postal system and what should or should not be mailed (see: the great tomatoe incident of '09) so needless to say I'm looking forward to what does or does not make it into Korea.
On a speech a wrote to be read at a recent wedding I couldn't attend:
...did you write something crazy?
Um, crazy how? Wait, no. In any sense of the word the answer is no. What kind of weddings do you go to? Who are these terrible people who don't go but write crazy things to be read? Turns out by crazy she meant funny, which are apparently synonyms in her world.
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