These are the texts messages I sent my wife in a recent conversation:
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Me: Just watered my plant.
Me: No.
Me: No, you’re wrong. The plant is doing great.
Me: I’m really going to look after it.
Me: I am going to be a money tree ninja.
Me: One hundred dollar bills are going to be growing on that fucker!
Me: And each bill will blossom into the exact change for the laundry!
Me: Really?
Me: Well, why do they call it a money tree if it doesn’t grow money?
Me: Marketing?
Me: The fuckers.
Me: Fake news is everywhere! It’s getting hard to know how to navigate this world!
Me: Oh, you think a job would help?
Me: You’d be wrong! Just like you are about my plant’s chances for survival!
Me: It’s way better than 15%!
Me: That plant has at least a 50-50 shot. Easily.
Me: I bought a spray bottle for that plant! It’s getting the five star Murray treatment!
Me: That’s what you’re worried about. Ha-ha.
Me: So very clever.
Me: But listen, not everybody needs a job in order to be fulfilled.
Me: Criminals, for instance.
Me: Oh.
Me: Yeah, I guess they do make license plates and stuff.
Me: Okay.
Me: Deer.
Me: Deer don’t have jobs. They don’t even respect the law, man!
Me: Crush the system!
Me: Look, I will eventually get a job.
Me: I will.
Me: I just need to finish the designs for my cryptozoology tarot cards and then I can open up shop and start reading fortunes!!
Me: I was told I could set up a table at Snakes and Lattes.
Me: Well, yes.
Me: I would have to pay a small rental, but that would come out of my fantasy baseball investment portfolio.
Me: Are you serious???
Me: Really???
Me: Fuck!
Me: I can’t believe somebody else already came up with the idea for cryptozoology tarot cards!
Me: Damn it!
Me: I was really looking forward to going on Dragon’s Den, too.
Me: Oh well, back to the drawing board! Fall six times, get up seven, that’s my motto.
Me: “More like fall six million times?”
Me: Good one, Petal.
Me: It’s true, you are a very funny and talented woman who doesn’t drink too much!
Me: No, I don’t know what you’re doing with me either.
Me: Really does seem an uneven match.
Me: Jones?
Me: Yeah, I think he’s around somewhere.
Me: Oh there he is! Standing up on the wobbly chair right by the window and a bunch of dangerous ledges!
Me: He’s fine, having some quality dad time!
Me: Oh you and your elite mothering!
Me: Fine!
Me: He’s down now, playing with a little brown ball on the floor.
Me: Oh.
Me: It’s actually a peeled apple.
Me: Gross.
Me: Listen I’m going to tell you something.
Me: When he hides, I ALWAYS see him.
Me: He’s just not as smart as he thinks he is.
Me: Fine.
Me: Fine. I will perpetuate the peek-a-boo myth if you insist, and throw out the dirt apple, but I am sure as hell not going back to that job at the Box Factory!
Me: Okay, see you at 5:30! xox
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