What am I saying?!

I got a massage last night. It was awesome, JD is very good at coaxing out whatever knots I have given myself.

But for some reason, I say the stupidest things when I am on his massage table...

Here is a sampling from last night's session:


Me: How are your kitties?

JD: They're good.

Me: And Jamiel, how is that kitty? (Explanatory Side Note: The cat's name is actually Unit, which is one of our mutual-friend-and-fellow-bike-racer Jamiel Danesh's old nicknames, so I call it Jamiel even though that's not its name)

JD: Jamiel's good. Still sucking his own nipple.

Me: What?! Jamiel Danesh sucks his own nipple?!

JD: No, the cat. You asked about the cat remember? It was taken away from its mom too soon so it still wants to nurse.

Me: Oh. I thought this was some new insult that the kids are using these days and that we were applying it to Jamiel the Person or something.

--------

JD: It's my iPod. Sue doesn't have an iPod, she doesn't listen to music.

Me: What?! She doesn't listen to music?! I have to listen to music all the time! Except when I'm at work of course. I can't listen to music there. So instead I look at my iTunes and pick a song to get stuck in my head and I sing that one in my head for a while and then when I get tired of it I go pick another one.

JD: You're so weird.

--------

JD: Yeah, we are just a couple blocks from Solano Ave. so it's easy to go grab dinner.

Me: Lucky! There is, like, NOTHing good near my house. I have to drive all the way to Rockridge. Oh. Wait. I take that back. Piedmont Ave. is like 4 blocks away. Nevermind, there is good stuff near my house.

JD: Another addition to the don't-listen-to-things-Courtenay-says file...