Z-Girl: Hello dear.
Z-Boy: Hi honey.
Z-Girl: What’s up?
Z-Boy: Well, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for yelling at you last night.
Z-Girl: Yeah, well you scared me! All I remember is you all yelling and shit. I was sleeping peacefully, dreaming about Brad Pitt, until you started your screechfest.
Z-Boy: I'm glad SOMEONE was sleeping peacefully. Given the decibel level of your snorefest, I was forced to examine you last night to make sure you hadn't been replaced with a lawn mower.
Z-Girl: It's all in your head. I don't snore.
Z-Boy: Yeah, and bears don't shit in the woods. Anyway, I didn't mean to yell. You know I’m just stressed because I had to drop out of this Saturday’s Dance Off. I can’t rightly bust-a-move on crutches.
Z-Boy: What are you laughing at?
Z-Girl: Seriously?! You couldn’t bust-a-move in a Dance Off if someone replaced your bottom half with that of John Travolta.
Z-Boy: You’re a bitch. Always crushing my dreams.
Z-Girl: I speak the truth.
Z-Boy: Whatever. Have a good day at work.
Z-Girl: You, too.
Wednesday, August 24, 2005