Ursula walked into Sam's immediate proximity with her hair brush in action. She was finishing up an extended currying, and her locks glistened as she shook them out.
"Teal says Travis and Bubba MIRLed... apparently Bubba is looking for a Biblical application of Missouri mules."
Sam had been watching appreciatively, and qualified her observation with comprehension by saying, "Well... _your_ Biblical application of a mule is VERY appealing in those boy shorts. You fill them in a way that implies successful reproduction on a schedule. Care to speculate what they'd do about it in the 'show me' State?"
She preened a little and responded, "They'd likely tame it with a little 'Southern Comfort,' followed hard on by a liberal application of 'Wild Goose.' Care to retrace the Louis and Clark expedition up the Mississippi tonight, in homage?"
His response was somewhat predictable, but well appreciated. "Wild Horses couldn't DRAG me away! ...and what kind of a word is 'MIRL?'"
"A computer word, silly! It's an acronym for M_eet I-n R-eal L_ife."
"Hmmm..." was Sam's response. "And Travis tried to tell me that 'personal computer manufacturers can't invent acronyms.'"
She grinned nefariously. "Sam, you KNOW I'm not ignorant about EVERYTHING! P-C-M-C-I-A? That's the thing that connected the old laptop to the internet wirelessly. I haven't forgotten."
He felt the need to exert male dominance, and struck out on a new course with a non-sequiter.
"How much did the Pirate's ear-rings cost?" he asked.
She threatened him with strip 20-questions if he didn't behave, and admitted she didn't know.
"A bucc-an-eer." he enumerated with satisfaction. "He stole 'em fair 'n square, but he made his first mate sell 'em to him for a receipt!" he added victoriously.
She dug down for a response.
"Where does the luck of the Irish come from?" she asked in return.
He observed that she had rather less than 20 articles of clothing in the pot, and admitted ignorance.
"From Ireland," she denoted authoritatively. "Do you know how I _know_ they are so lucky?" she continued, capitalizing on her advantage.
He responded by holding his watch up by the strap.
"No snakes in Ireland," she gleefully finished.
His description of the habitat of garter snakes, and the ratio of gentle to harmless they illustrate, was instructive. "I'm gentle, by I ain't harmless," he concluded.
They fell off a conversational cliff into the bedroom.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
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