The fine art of conversation

The other day my friend Miranda and I had the following conversation. About spit. Because we are 10, apparently.

Me: Spitting is disgusting. Truly revolting. Ack.

Her: Dude, we all know how you feel about spitting. We get it. Now shut it.

Me: Whatever. Hey, when I was a kid, though, I could spit like a cobra. I was deadly.

Her: A spitting cobra?

Me: No, dumbass, the non-spitting variety. They’re just as mean and unpredictable, but not nearly as deadly. Unless, of course, you lie down in front of them and let them spit in your eye.

We then spent the next ten minutes pretending to be a spitless cobra. Complete with lots of spittle flying around and the noises one might make while attempting to ‘hock up a loogie’.

We decided that this particular snake is kind of grumpy, has an inferiority complex and is more than likely named Steve.

Steve the loogie hocking cobra.

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3 Responses to “The fine art of conversation”

  1. Sarah Says:

    So I’m not the only one… my husband and I still go to Santa Monica pier and have spitting contests over the side to hit targets. I’m not as accurate as a spitting cobra, but I’ve got game!

  2. Fishie Says:

    You are so 10! I, on the other hand, sit at the dinner table with my husband and try to upturn my tongue just the right way in order to shoot saliva out the side of my mouth.

    This worked much better when I had braces.

    I’m so twelve.

  3. Pat K Says:

    Perhaps, the air exchange ratio is not quite
    optimal, were this conversation took place.


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