(Thanks to my super game-loving friend, I’ve recently found out that I adore video games, and have been catching up on all the video games released in the past ten years that I think look awesome. My friend is highly amused by how excited I get at it at all, so I have been periodically updating her on my progress throughout each game. One night I send her a few texts.)

Me: *at four am* “[Friend]! I MADE MY VIDEO GAME BOYFRIEND KING AND HE GOT MAD AND BROKE UP WITH ME! Jerkface. I’m feeding him to the dragon, okay?”

Me: *at five am* “HE FED HIMSELF TO THE DRAGON AND NOW I’M BAWLING.”

Me: *at six am* “Okay, we’re all good. He’s not king, the dragon is dead, and we’re still together. Yay for happy endings!”

Friend: *at 10 am* “…What have I created?”

(A few weeks later I’m playing a sequel to that game and I text her again.)

Me: “[Friend]! NOO! [Character] from the first game died in the third game! AFTER ALL I DID TO KEEP HIM ALIVE!”

Friend: “Mayyyybeee you need a break?”

(This text conversation happens when my friend hasn’t replied in a while so I think she may have fallen asleep.)

Me: “Are you alive?”

Friend: “Nope. I’m a zombie.”

Me: “-shoots you in the head; then shoots you twice more, just to be sure-”

Friend: “Smart move.”

Me: “At least now you know what I’d do if you ever turned into a zombie.”

Friend: “I would do the same for people I care about.”

Me: “What about the rest?”

Friend: “Let them starve outside while I chill in a shelter.”

(I am on the train with two schoolboys sat nearby. The first I notice them when the train guard comes along the carriage checking tickets.)

Guard: “Nice breakfast.”

Boy #1: *holding up chocolate muffin* “Yeah, the best sort…”

(About a minute passes, then I hear…)

Boy #2: “Urgh! That’s disgusting!”

Boy #1: “What?”

Boy #2: “How can you even do that?”

Boy #1: “What?”

Boy #2: “Seriously, I’m gonna puke if you don’t stop. How can you EAT the MUFFIN PAPER?”

Boy #1: “I always do that!”

Boy #2: “Why?!”

Boy #1: “It’s still covered with muffin!” *points dramatically in the air* “NO CHOCOLATE LEFT BEHIND!”

(I’ve been complaining to my friend about my job for a while due to a coworker having quit and the bosses refusing to replace him, and on top of that, increasing my workload.)

Me: “It’s crazy in there, man. And it’s getting so overwhelming that I keep screwing things up, and coworkers are beginning to notice.”

Friend: “Well, maybe if this keeps up, the bosses will get the hint, and finally hire someone else.”

Me: “Or maybe I’ll get fired.”

Friend: “Wow, you sounded way too hopeful when you said that.”

(My son and I are walking our Malamute down the street. The dog is shedding his winter coat and looks shaggy.)

Lady: “What a nice dog!”

Me: “Thanks!”

Lady: “You should rub burned oil on him. It would clear up his coat and kill any fleas.”

Me: “Really? You mean motor oil?”

Lady: “Yes, burned oil.”

Me: “Okay, I’ll do that. We’ll see how it works. Thanks!”

Lady: “Bye.”

Me: “Have a nice day!”

(The lady walks away.)

Me: *to my son* “Not in this lifetime.”