This past extended weekend has really been a series of comical conversations, which by themselves, pretty much sum everything up pretty nicely.
Tom and I discussing a National Guard commercial playing prior to the Transformers movie...
Woman National Guardsman: We were sent out on a mission to rescue flood victims. We rescued this pregnant woman who I could see was extremely scared. I gave her a comforting smile. That was a great moment and a reason why I am in the National Guard.
Me (whispering to Tom in the movie theater): So, did the pregnant woman live or die?
Tom (matter-of-fact-ly): Oh, she died. But... she got a comforting smile before she died.
After the movie...
Me: So the robots with the red, beady eyes were bad guys?
Tom: They were shameless with the setup for a sequel.
Me: Really? How so?
Tom: Oh, the way Optimus calls all the Transformers to Earth. And how Starscream escaped and flew off the planet.
Me: The premise for the movie was that they were fighting over the flash cube, which in the end was destroyed. They have nothing to fight over now.
Tom: I'm sure they'll find something.
Me: What, like, "Optimus Prime, you owe me five dollars, bee-yotch!" "No, Megatron, I will not pay you five dollars. Further, I will pit the Autobots and all of humanity against you in an epic struggle, lasting approximately 120 minutes, over the five dollars you speak of!"
Tom: Sadly, that would actually make a better plot that what we just watched.
And wine tasting on Monday...
April (being poured the final taste from a nearly-empty bottle): He finished it off on me.
Tom (to himself): Whoa!
Tom (to me as I wrap my take-home glass): You really packed it tight there, Paul.
Me: Just like always.
April: I got that! I heard you, and I got that! (April is now apparently our friend after this. We find out that April and the guy she is with apparently own their own corporation [whatever that means]. We gather that they are pretty rich, seeing as how they are riding around in a huge limo [just the two of them], buying mad quantities of wine [including a bottle for their limo driver, which I can only assume is for later and not "on-the-go"], and are on vacation from one of the nicer parts of the East coast. They follow us to the next winery. I accuse them of stalking us.)
Jaime (defending her taste in books): Hey, I like Dickens.
Tom: Jaime likes dickin's.
Me: Did you say "Dickens" or "dickings"?
Jaime: I like both.
Tom: Whoa! At the same time?
Okay, there's more (including Megan telling people that I am her Gyno), but there's only so much time and space, and you pretty much get the gist of it.