Rabid, Mangy Wolves

Excerpt from today’s email conversation with ETS, because it amused me:

ETS: I would much prefer a near-nekkid Vin Diesel and a vat of baby oil [to doing work].

Pete: Ewww… baby oil? You know what that’s made of, right?

ETS: Are you going to say babies, or are you REALLY going to disgust me by telling me the true ingredients?

Pete: …well… OLIVE OIL is made from OLIVES! You do the math.

ETS: Well, ok, I can accept substitutions, but it has to be shiny and slippery and it doesn’t wear off or soak in after a short while. Those are my only requirements.

Pete: Hmmm… but if it soaks in after a while you have to reapply it often!

ETS: Oh, good idea! Ok! Sun tan oil? The kind that smells like coconuts and makes your skin breathe a sigh of ecstasy as you spread it on?

Pete: Whatever your little 23-year-old** heart desires, ETSie-poo.

ETS: Don’t get me started, Argenpeta. I’ll spend the rest of the day thinking up all the things my little heart desires while ignoring my work.

If I get my heart’s desire, though, I also want my enemies to find themselves stationed at the North Pole with nothing but a cb radio and a team of huskies to keep them warm. Rabid huskies. With mange. Separate stations, one enemy per.

** — reference to her having been mistaken for a 23 year old earlier this week.

It might not be funny to anyone else, but it amused me greatly.