(A childhood friend of mine has just bought a house with his fiancé, and I bring them a pizza and help them unpack boxes. After dinner, we’re chilling on the back porch and gushing about the house.)

Friend: “It’s perfect. Not so isolated that [Fiancé] feels totally alone, but screened in enough that we feel peaceful.”

Me: “And the view is to die for. Nothing like living on top of a mountain for a great vista.”

Friend: “I know, right? We’ve been trying to think of a good name for the place. Something nerdy.”

Me: “The Eyrie?”

Friend: “Nah, not specific enough. I’m thinking The Lonely Mountain House, but [Fiancé] wants to call it Salamandastron.”

Me: “Why? You’re nowhere near the sea.”

Friend: “Oh, yeah, you haven’t met the neighbors! Hang on. Watch, you’ll get a kick out of this.”

(He stands, cups his hands around his mouth, aims his voice off to one side into the woods where we can hear the noise of children playing, and shouts at the top of his voice.)

Friend: “EULAILIAAA!”

Kids: *yelling back* “REDWAAALL!”

Me: “Oh, my god… you have the best neighbors ever. Introduce me, please!”

(Ten minutes later, two boys and a girl come sprinting up the driveway. My friend tells them I’m an otter, and now every time I come to visit “Salamandastron,” the neighbors all call me Skipper.)

(I am with a few friends while a couple of them set up a new TV stand. We are all bantering good-naturedly so I pull out my phone and record a video of it. Everyone is aware I am doing this. About five minutes after I put the phone away, Friend #2 picks up her bag and goes to the door.)

Friend #1: “Oh, are you leaving?”

Friend #2: “Yeah.” *points at me* “Don’t you EVER film me again!”

(Friend #2 storms out. The rest of us blink at each other for a few seconds.)

Friend #2: *from outside* “A**-HOLE!”

(We found out later that Friend #2 had a phobia of being photographed or recorded, and never mentioned it to any of us.)

(My sister and I are six years apart. I am just making my way into the job market and am just getting by, whereas my sister is successful and well-off. I love her dearly and don’t hold this against her in anyway because I know she worked hard. I’m out shopping with a friend and find a bottle of perfume that my sister had brought back for me from a trip she bought and I was quite fond of.)

Me: “Oh, hey, look, I found [Perfume] that I love.” *getting sad* “I bet it’s expensive.”

Friend: *looking at price* “Not really; it’s only $6 a bottle.”

Me: “REALLY?! Awesome. I am definitely going to get some.”

Friend: “Wait… why are you so happy? Your sister got you a pretty crappy gift.”

Me: “It’s not crappy. I like it and I can afford it!”

Friend: *looks at me a little weirdly* “You like wearing crappy cheap perfume?”

Me: “[Friend], you have complimented me on how I smell before.”

Friend: *mutters*

(My friend and I are playing a video game, and currently he is being taken off for execution. His character’s hands are bound, and all he can do is look around. He can’t even move on his own, every event is scripted. No quick time events, nothing, he will die. We both know this. We are being driven around a Middle Eastern country, with multiple scenes of violence and other things around him. Then he says this:)

Friend: “This is a nice car.”

Me: “You are being taken for execution, and all you have to say is ‘this is a nice car’?”

Friend: *laughing* “Yeah.” *jokingly* “I’m going to use this when I escape.”

(Friend gets knocked out.)

Friend: “Guess not.”

(When this happened, I wasn’t very tech-savvy, so I was asking my friend, who prides himself on his knowledge of the subject.)

Me: “So, real quick, a Gibibyte is 1024 Tebibytes, right?”

Friend: “I should punch you for saying that.”