I like my spaghetti with a side of murder

The four best bar conversations of the (four-day-birthday-extravaganza) weekend:

Scene 1
(guy wearing a Sponge Bob Squarepants t-shirt trying to hit on gogo)

Spongy: Did ya'll grow up in Chicago?
Karen: No
lada: Did you grow up in a pineapple under the sea?
Spongy: (really excited) Oh, hey! You watch the show?
Karen: Not really
Spongy: You know the humor is really more adult oriented.
Karen: --
lada: --
Karen: Check please.


Scene 2
(if you wear a Germany shirt during the World Cup, the German boys will come a runnin' )

Dummkopf: I hate my vife. I am going to kill her.
Karen: Uh. . .
Dummkopf: No, I vill kill her. I vill get an American to come back to Deutschland vith me - because American's cannot drive sticks* - and the American will drive over her. And then he can say "Oops, I do not know vat happened, I do not know how to drive." It vill cost me, eh, five or six hundred thousand dollars. But I hate her.
lada: I wouldn't do that.
Dummkopf: I vill kill my vife.
lada: Umm, I can only recommend you don't kill anyone.
Dummkopf: Give me your number; ve vill go out tonight.
lada: I'm married; I don't give out my number.
Dummkopf: But your eyes are so green I cannot even vatch the match vithout being distracted.
lada: (putting on sunglasses) I am married; I don't give out my number.
Dummkopf: I understand. Ve vill go out, but there vill be no touching.
lada: I'm married; I never give out my number.**
Dummkopf: I vill give you my number - promise you vill call me tonight?
Karen: NEIN


Scene 3
(three of us eating in a booth big enough for six - suddenly a random guy decides to use our extra space - he plops his ass down in our booth, turns his back to us and leans across the aisle to talk to his friends at another table)

Karen: (under her breath) Holy space invaders
lada: HEY! Get up! You're sitting on my imaginary friend!
Space Invader: What?
lada: My imaginary friend Harvey - you're sitting on him!
Space Invader: (guy looks down and scoots over a little) Uh, my bad.
lada: Tell him you're sorry.
Space Invader: Umm? Hey man, I'm sorry I. . .
lada: Don't call him "man" - he is a rabbit.
Space Invader: An imaginary rabbit? Like a hippity-hoppity rabbit?
lada: They prefer the term "hip-hop rabbit" these days.
Space Invader: --
lada: Apologize!
Space Invader: Harvey, I'm sorry I. . .
lada: He's not down there; look up. He's a very tall rabbit.
Space Invader: Harvey, I'm sorry I sat on you. Okay?
lada: Yup


Scene 4

lada: I used to sneak raw spaghetti when I was a kid. I would hide it under my pillow and eat it during my naps. It's good, but it gets stuck in your teeth.
preEsquire: I used to eat raw spaghetti too! You take a big handful and crunch through. . .
lada: You ate handfuls at once? I only ate one noodle at a time -- you're weird.
preEsquire: Yeah well, I didn't hide it under my pillow.
lada: Touché

Quote of the weekend - Evan: If they had blown up the Sears Tower there would be a lot more job openings for lawyers. There are several firms in there . . . I can't believe I just said that.

- lada dances with the devil in the pale moonlight

* I'm not sure which I find more offensive - a man planning the murder of his wife or a German who assumes an American cannot operate a manual transmission. This girl has mad shifting skills, scheisskopf!
** Well sometimes I give out the number to the rejection hotline: (773) 509-5027. Go on - call it.