A Happy Habit

We all appreciate different friends for different reasons, and one reason I appreciate Stacia is because she is willing to play along with my ridiculous texting conversations.  She doesn’t give up on me.  Know why?

BECAUSE I AM FUCKING PERSISTENT.

I draw this shit out for like four days at a time.

You’re probably lucky I don’t have your phone numbers.

On Vegas, Marriage, and Pubic Hair:

ME:  Dude.  Do you want to go to a free jazz concert tonight?

STACIA:  On my way to Vegas.  But thanks.

ME:  What’s in Vegas?  Besides prostitutes?  Don’t accidentally get married, ya hear?

STACIA:  My good friend is getting married.  I tried to talk her out of it.

ME:  Ha ha ha.  Hilarity.  Good for you.  If Elvis marries them, please take pictures.

STACIA:  Elvis IS marrying them.  It’s at the Graceland chapel!!

ME:  Fuck yeah.  Tell her to wear a long black wig so she looks like Priscilla Presley.  I hope Elvis is gross and sweaty and wears lots of rings.

STACIA:  Me too!  She does have long dyed black hair.

ME:  Well, it seems meant to be then.  Give Elvis a kick in his fat ass for me.  PICTURES!

(one day later)

ME:  I thought of some other things that are in Vegas.  Dirty hotel carpet, free gin, and spandex.

(another day later)

ME:  I forgot to ask…did you find any stray pubes in your Vegas hotel bed?  Because I asked the hotel concierge to sprinkle some in there for you.

STACIA:  Dude!  You are so sweet to think of me.  But people who stay at the Monte Carlo don’t have pubes.

ME:  Why??  Because they’re too old and they all fell out?  That happens when you get old, you know.

STACIA:  No.  It’s because they are all super young and hot and they wax the shit out of that.

I’m still suspicious about this last response.  Because I’m pretty sure I’m right about the Monte Carlo.