Conversations, miscommunications, and everyday verbal masturbations. Be wary: Nothing important exists beyond this point, although what lies within these extemporaneous scripts, however true, can also obtain offensive material. These conversations are as accurate as I remember.
My day-job is that of an intake coordinator for a defense attorney's office, part of which requires that I interview convicts, both incarcerated and freed, to gather their statements of the cases in question. Names save for mine will be changed.
My day-job is that of an intake coordinator for a defense attorney's office, part of which requires that I interview convicts, both incarcerated and freed, to gather their statements of the cases in question. Names save for mine will be changed.
Superbowl Sunday. (2/3/08)
Posted 04-02-2008 at 05:31 AM by Dawes
At Rance's household, a Superbowl party can never be too innocent. My team is the Redskins; my friend's team is the Ravens. The contest never dies, even when both teams are done and gone, with only thoughts of next year to carry them forward...
Rance: Alright, Kev, so give me your prediction for today: Patriots or New York Giants?
Kevin: Well... (scratching at an invisible spot on his Raven's jersey.)
Rance: Come on, dude, spit it out. I don't have all day for your pussy-footing bullshit. (said, of course, in that ever-insulting, ever-loving tone that our friends always share.)
Kevin: You wanna know who I think's gonna win?
Rance: Yeah.
Kevin: The Ravens.
Rance: ... I hate you. Their showing was crap this year anyway, Kev, and even if they had made it to the Superbowl, they'd still fail and you'd have to watch them get pounded around like a bunch of wankers.
Kevin: Well, if you want to bring it like that...
Rance: Go on, defend them. Any good fan would.
Kevin: Well, at least my Ravens have players that are still alive and don't get shot midway through the season. Ask Sean Taylor how victory tastes.
Rance: Wha--
Kevin: GO AHEAD REDSKINS! GO AHEAD SEAN TAYLOR! WIN THAT MVP!
I guess he had a point.
Rance: Alright, Kev, so give me your prediction for today: Patriots or New York Giants?
Kevin: Well... (scratching at an invisible spot on his Raven's jersey.)
Rance: Come on, dude, spit it out. I don't have all day for your pussy-footing bullshit. (said, of course, in that ever-insulting, ever-loving tone that our friends always share.)
Kevin: You wanna know who I think's gonna win?
Rance: Yeah.
Kevin: The Ravens.
Rance: ... I hate you. Their showing was crap this year anyway, Kev, and even if they had made it to the Superbowl, they'd still fail and you'd have to watch them get pounded around like a bunch of wankers.
Kevin: Well, if you want to bring it like that...
Rance: Go on, defend them. Any good fan would.
Kevin: Well, at least my Ravens have players that are still alive and don't get shot midway through the season. Ask Sean Taylor how victory tastes.
Rance: Wha--
Kevin: GO AHEAD REDSKINS! GO AHEAD SEAN TAYLOR! WIN THAT MVP!
I guess he had a point.
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