An "LOL-OMG-WTF" Free Zone: An Online Conversation Between Your Favourite Gun-Toting Gringas!

Em: I love Gabrial Yared!
Jackie: Me too!
Em: At least his music. I have no clue what he looks like or the extent of his voical abilities
Jackie: Guess who's going to Karaoke night?
Em: Speaking of voical abilities...you? Hee! *voical* Newest word EVER.
Jackie: Karaoke night. I can't spell that word... My workplace is inappropriate.
Em: *fusses with IMDb* Damn Gabriel's compsed for a lotta movies here...I only ever liked him for Possession, but he's done other stuff too. I cannot find my Possession video tape. I know it is at home somewhere. Boo.
Jackie:
City of Angels makes my life.
Em: The one with Nicolas Cage pre-hairplugs, Meg Ryan with the same haircut she always has and the only song from the Goo Goo Dolls that I will ever recognize upon hearing?
Jackie: The same.
. . . p.s. the Unfaithful soundtrack is amazing!
Em: Mmm never heard it. Not a Diane Lane fan after she was rude to my aunt in an airport.
Me likies the Possession soundtrack...oh well...can't find Monsoon Wedding either. Both will turn up.
Jackie:
Ok wanna hear what the guys at work said to me yesterday?
Em: And how!
Jackie:
Behold! The Conversation Went Thus:

*inappropriate comment of a typical sort*
Me - *eyeroll* you guys are so juvenile
Greg - Jackie, ever since the baby it's not been the same between us.
Alex - *laughs*
Me - Greg you're retarded
Greg - When they're that big, they're not just for the baby anymore!

Em: *still fussing with IMDb* Damn I want to see this movie when it comes out :
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0437954/

And hee! Your boobs got made fun of!

I *heart* Italy!

I *heart* the Black Death!

Jackie:
They're like that aaaalllllllll the time!
Greg and I had a fight over my bra size...oooh ooho I love Italy/Black Death too!
Em: Hahaha, who doesn't?
Jackie: *fusses wioth IMDb* Oh, wait.
Em: Duuuuude.
Jackie: Mischa Barton.
Em: I got an Ick Story similar to the one you describe above, only marginally creepier. But it'll keep. Let us get the Mischa-Gunning out of the way.
Jackie: Oh yes, let's. Only we'll have to fire about 50 times each to actually hit her. It's like she's 2-D. She turns sideways and disappears completely. From our eyes, at least, if not our unfortunate memories.
Em: Ick is like my word of choice, and I think it applies to Ms. Barton.
Jackie: *still fussing with IMDb* And Hayden Christensen. NEITHER can act!
Em: Yeah but hopefully she'll be in a silent role as she neither speaks Italian nor can pull of a convincing accent. It's just a guess, as I've never seen her try either, but dude. And Julia Stiles is going to be playing a Scottish woman in the upcoming future. Are there no hot Italian or Scottish women? The men of the two regions are considered hot by default in North America, as their accents automatically single them out as being cultured, sophisticated in a James-Bond-esque, European manner, and able to do things to a girl that have yet to be made legal in North America.
Jackie: Like rape, torture, or dismemberment?
Em: A) Those aren't legal in Europe...at least I hope not. And B) That's not quite what I was going for, but I believe my point stands if I make it clear that I mean *sexy* illegal things.
Jackie: Like bestiality? Or incest? What about syphallis? "It's not just for Europe anymore?"
Em: It's like I'm talking to a 6 year old. A highly-educated, smart-mouthed, vodka-swilling, cynically-jaded, shoots-from-the-hip, take-no-prisoners-or-crap, forward-thinking, buzz-quashing, gratingly-honest 6 year old.
Jackie: That would be the awesomest 6-year-old, EVER.
Em: True. We should totally pool our money and adopt a kid. Or buy one.
Jackie: Like off eBay? I don't think we'd have enough money. Can't you just grab one from the park or one that's lost and wandering the aisle of the grocery store with the pint of fudge ripple they wanted mommy to buy, crying because they had to go wee, but had let go of the shopping cart handle so they can't find mommy, ergo, they cannot find their way to a washroom in time and thusly have wet their Disney-Princess-Print Pull-Ups?
Em: I don't want a kid like that. The fact that they wandered off to fullfill their own selfish desire for ice cream then wee'd themselves in public shows a single-minded, reckless disobedience in order to pursue your own self-interest and a self-centred lack of direction that causes them to pridefully wallow in their own filth rather than ask a stranger for help locating the nearest mommy and/or washroom.
Jackie: . . .
Em: . . . Come to think of it...such a child would be putty in our Gunning Hands.
Jackie: Please note that none of your twisted concern is directed towards the idea of us stealing a child away from its mother.
Em: In all fairness, you seemed to have shot down the idea of adopting.
In any case, Hayden is hot and from Vancouver. As a West-Coast homeboy, he needs our respect for that.
Jackie: But. He. Can't. Act.
Em: True.
Jackie: Point!
Em: "Darth Vader: Dark Sith Lord or Surly, Constipated Teenager With An Articulatory Problem?"
Jackie: The latter. Oh, the latter.
Em: Exactly. I've never even seen any of the *new* Star Wars movies, and I'm *still* all like, "Dude, they make Metamucil in capsule form for a reason, and that reason is so we can easily slip it into the pill-box which contains your other capsulized space food and no one is the wiser on your problems which revolve around bloaty-ness, gas cramps, and Natalie Portman."
Jackie: Haha. Ew.
Em: And Obe-Wan is actually a speech therapist. But nothing can fix Anakin's stilted dialgoue, save for a Tazer to George Lucas' head! Or the gift of a thesaurus! Or some as-yet undiscovered yet talented writer whom they can pay off to write the scripts under Georgie-Porgie, Puddin' and Pie's name. And maybe a few rousing sessions of Space-Scrabble.
Jackie: Mmhm.
Em: And what is Portman's problem? She's spent at least two movies digging Anakin when she was totally in Garden State with the delectable and funny Zach Braff, and then more recently she cozied up to Jude Law/Clive Owen and it was totally hot.
There's better things to be a-doin, honey! Braff, Law, and Owen, to name but a few!
Jackie: Zing!
Em: Okay, speaking of horrifyingly sexual comments at work!
So I'm just standing there, right, doing my job, and this kid who works there, whom we shall call Brad, who I've known for, like, most of my life, comes up to me and is all "The cook (whom we shall call George) wants to know if you're single." "George" is, at a guess, pushing mid-forties, if he's lucky, mid thirties. My response is "Really funny, Brad. Whatever." *walks away*
Then later...
The boss is looking for people to work the evening shift, and George is all like "Hey Em, what are you doing tonight?"
Me: (as anyone with a Hollywood-fueled adolescence knows, this is the usual lead-up to an asking-out) *oh God!* : Uhhh I really have to do my laundry.
Him: Doncha wanna stay here with me *winks* and work a double shift?
Me: *has been there since 5 am and was up hours earlier due to tummy aches* : Uh, I really, *really*, REALLY need to do my laundry. (This was true.)
Him: *turning to Boss* Hey, I *really* need to do my laundry tonight too!
Boss: Shut up George, you're working tonight.

So yeah...I did laundry, and it was good because there was no one to ogle me whilst I separated my lights from my darks.
Jackie: Eww.
Em: I know! But I dunno if he was just shooting the breeze in a friendly way, because the wink didn't *seem* skeezy unless Brad was there to chuckle at me behind my back. Which he wasn't at the time. But you know me, I over think this stuff
Jackie: Mmhm.
Em: Well, shit.
Jackie: Nanyhoodle, I'm going to go watch 7 Year Itch. Good luck wrestling with your indecision over mixed messages and mistaken interpretation of the circumstances!
Em: I hate you sometimes. This makes me wish I worked at KFC and only had to deal with out-and-out comments on my boobage. I can fend off open remarks from nit-wit ass hats. It's the cryptic skeezoids who looks as if they could actually withstand a solid hit to the groin that worry me.
Jackie: Don't forget to stock up on mace!
Em: Shut up.
. . .
Where can I buy some?