Brain: Why don't you wear more dresses?
Me: Because.
Brain: That's not an answer.
Me: Yes it is. It's just bad.
Brain: Don't dodge the question.
Me: Why do you need to know? It's not like you can wear them.
Brain: I would if I wasn't a spongy conglomeration of goo and squishy stuff. So why don't you?
Me: You can't fight in a dress.
Brain: . . . since when are you fighting people?
Me: I'm not. But you can never be too careful. I like to be prepared for a fight.
Brain: Again, I ask: since when are you fighting?
Me: There is danger around every corner. I want to be able to kick someone in the face without worrying about flashing too much skin.
Brain: You are seriously worried that while you are kicking someone in the head, you are going to expose too much of your body? THAT'S what you're worried about?
Me: Yep.
Brain: Not the getting attacked part.
Me: Nope.
Brain: *Ahem* Why the hell should it matter if you show off too much when the main problem is the possibility of DYING!?
Me: I'm a lady.
Brain: You make no sense to me.
Me: I'd be more worried if you were the one not making sense.
Brain: I still don't understand why you don't just wear some girlier things. Like skirts. Or frilly shirts. Maybe even some jewellery. You can't just wear jeans and funny t-shirts to everything.
Me: Jeans and t-shirts are the shiz.
Brain: Don't use that word. You are too white to use that word.
Me: Jeans and t-shirts are comfy as hell. And always appropriate.
Brain: So you would wear them to a wedding.
Me: I'd rather wear jeans than this weird fucking thing:
Brain: Hey, it doesn't look too bad.
Me: It looks like someone vomited a lemon onto some tin-foil and decided to stick it to this anorexic girl with glad-wrap.
Brain: It's not THAT bad.
Me: Still not going to wear it.
Brain: But you've worn dresses before. You wore them in school.
Me: For 2/5 years.
Brain: But you wear them out clubbing and to dinner parties.
Me: When I am surrounded by friends and security and rarely have to stand.
Brain: Then why can't you just wear them on a daily basis?
Me: Pockets.
Brain: Oh, jesus, what now?
Me: I hate having to carry a purse. Jeans have pockets. Dresses do not. Hence I don't like wearing dresses.
Brain: What the f**k is wrong with a bag?
Me: It leaves at least one of my hands occupied.
Brain: This is related to fighting isn't it?
Me: You can't fight someone if your fighting hand is occupied.
Brain: Then use your other hand?
Me: I attack with both hands.
Brain: You are a paranoid little thing, aren't you?
Me: Correction: We're a paranoid little thing.
Brain: Men would like you better if you wore dresses.
Me: If a man doesn't like my elaborate paranoia and fighting tactics, he's not the man for me.
Brain: You are going to be alone forever.
Me: At least I'll be alive.
Brain: WHO THE HELL WOULD WANT TO ATTACK YOU?!
Me: Zombies.
Brain: Well then it's your fault you'll never look sexy.
Me: Pfft, clearly you've never seen Resident Evil.
 |
| Hawt |
No comments:
Post a Comment