Saturday Snark: Sidecar

It's Saturday, which means it's time for Saturday Snark over at Marie Sexton's Blog!  I'm going with Sidecar this week, because I'm proud of it, and because Joe and Casey snarked really really well.  This is in the early stages of their relationship, when Casey really is just too damned young, and Joe is firmly entrenched in his role as Casey's guardian:

“Yeah. Fine. Whatever”—and he had to laugh when Joe wrinkled his nose.

“God, cursing used to be honest, you know? When did ‘whatever’ come to mean ‘fuck you’?”

“You know, for a guy with a ponytail and a soul patch, you sound an awful lot like my grandmother.”

“You know, for a kid who weighs ninety-eight pounds soaking wet, you sure got a mouth on you.”

“Yeah, wanna know what I can do with it?”

Joe grimaced again. “Kid? You know what? I’m going in there, and I’m going to eat pizza and congratulate all my friends on a job well done. I’m going to have a beer, and I’m going to hope that maybe Sharon Rosenthal, the pretty girl with the long, blonde hair—”

“The one with the sweater that could fit me?”

“You should be so well-endowed. Yeah, her. I’m going to go make out with her. She might even spend the night. If that happens, you’re going to sleep in my guest bedroom, do your English packet in the morning, and make plans to become a truly outstanding human being—in two or so years, okay?”

Casey shook his head, at a loss. “You know, I don’t think I’ve met another human being so opposed to a blowjob before.”

Joe rolled his eyes. “That’s because you haven’t offered one to the male half of the people in that room. And you’re not going to. You go to school, find the other sixteen-year-old boys, and score all the tail you can manage. But you hit on me too hard and I’m going to knock you into the nearest foster home, you hear me? I don’t do that. And as far as I remember, you must have said sixty thousand times that you didn’t want to do that either!” 



***

And while we're talking about snark, I FINALLY remembered that thing that Zoomboy said to me that needed to be mentioned in the blog.  We were arguing over the air conditioning in the car.  It was 106, (according to the car's thermometer) and I had the A/C pumping as high as it could go.  Zoomboy complained the entire way to Target, although his sisters were both begging for me to make it, by magic, even cooler in the car.  

"It's too cold!" he said when we were walking through Target.  

"It's not even cold enough!" I snapped back, because it wasn't!

Instead of getting mad at me, Zoomboy smiled beatifically and patted my (admittedly enhanced) waistline.  And then, in a voice very like a television announcer's, he said:

"The arctic seal has its own insulation against the cold."

I stopped dead in Target and stared at him, not sure he'd really said what he'd just said, and he smiled at me innocently and wandered off to get a polo shirt, because he really likes those.

"Why you little sphincter..."  I said, and Chicken and I just looked at each other.

"Laugh or strangle him?" she asked.

"I'll let you know when I decide."  

I still don't know--but you gotta admit, it was a fine example of snark!