2020-11-13 - Brownies and Play Dates

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : Hey, Swamp Magic Man, why are we not playing up a storm somewhere? I woke up and all I want to do is eat everything, say everything, and play everything. And punch someone in the face. And eat some more. And then play some more. Let's do something stupid and idiotic we can be embarrassed about all year. 🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : well congratufuckinglations on stupid and idiotic, I think you just won the lottery. now who the hell is this and what the actual fuck do you need with that many emojis?

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : [...]

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : I didn't text Rosencrantz, did I.

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : Let me check

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : Nope. definitely not Rosencrantz

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : The fuck do you want

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : To eat everything, say everything, and play everything. But uh, maybe not to bother some random person about it. I don't suppose you play the violin and bake brownies, whoever you are, mystery person in textspace?

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : You're Itzhak's straight boyfriend, yeah? abdilgardd or something? No I don't play the goddamned violin. I can bake brownies if I put my mind to it. question for you, though.

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : I'm not his boyfriend, ffs. You realise how many people think that? The man is in a relationship he's perfectly happy in. People need to stop saying that shit. 🤬🤬 Question? Sure, I'll answer yours if you answer mine: Who the hell am I talking to and when are brownies?

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : fucking chill out, you always this uptight? shit's sake, man.

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : Uh, sure. it's Javier. you know, his ACTUAL boyfriend

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : Sore spot. Sorry. Uh. Hi.

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : People keep assuming I'm fucking Rosencrantz, Bennie, Vic, anything that bloody well moves. It gets old.

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : I didn't say you were fucking him. I'm fucking him, so I know for a fact that you're not.

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : but he likes you. I was teasing. you ever tease anyone, Abildgard?

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : You ever give anyone a hard time?

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : Depends on how you define tease. I will sit up on my hind legs for a brownie.

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : now I want to see you do this.

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : I will bake you brownies if you'll beg for them

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : Ask my students sometime. I'm supposedly a stuck-up entitled asshole who thinks he's something because he's got ancestors who were something and I grade essays based entirely on whether they show me enough boob on Skype. That count? Or does it have to be real?

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : You have ancestors who were something? what ancestors are those. bet mine are better than yours.

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : Probably. Mine were entitled assholes. And entitled not-assholes. But, you know, a lot of entitled assholes.

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : [gif of supercute begging puppy, complete with sparkles and a little rainbow]

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : your ancestrors were cute puppies?

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : Nah. Aristocrats. Vive la Revoluzion! Or however the fuck you spell that in Spanish, I don't speak Spanish. Dos cuervos, remember? Yours sound a hell of a lot more interesting. You're a hell of a lot less scary on the phone too, man. Or I'm high as a kite, I can't tell. I probably am. I bought every cupcake in the store this morning and I'm pretty sure the cat only ate some of them.

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : I guess it depends which revolution you're talking about. and bullshit your ancestors are Spanish. mine, I don't know they're more interesting. more bloodthirsty, maybe.

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : Yeah, well, all we got up to in terms of revolutions in Denmark was passing a law in 1849 stripping the nobility of any special privileges. And then we got on with life and everything stayed exactly the same because that's the Danish way: Let's not get excited about anything. Your ancestors sound like they at least knew how to party.

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : Depends

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : Mine made me take dance classes, ok. Not the fun kind. The waltz kind.

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : 🥱🥱🥱🥱

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : What? you're right, Danish people sound fucking boring. only old people waltz. you need to learn how to dance from a Mexican.

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : What do Mexicans dance? The Flamenco?

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : Also, fucking stop with the emojis before I drive over there and shoot you

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : As long as you wear clothes while you do it. My last guest didn't.

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : I'm not going to comment on that

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : Also, the Flamenco? Are you shitting me?

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : No, you SHOULD. That's the POINT.

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : The Flamenco is from fucking Spain.

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : you ever hear someone from Spain talk?

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : it's a fucking train wreck

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : Everyone telling me it's practically suicide to live in that trailer park and sure enough, I get a house invasion at 3:30 am -- and it's bloody Vic Grey stumbling in so drunk she forgot where she lived and crawling into bed with me. It's FUNNY.

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : And yeah, I hitch-hiked through northern Spain. Didn't understand a word. Don't speak Spanish. They all sounded like they were chewing on wool.

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : Vic Grey? ah shit, sounds like something she'd do. she's not a bad lay though, but I was pretty fucking drunk and blitzed out of my mind when I slept with her.

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : I fed her coffee and put her to bed. Because Danish people are fucking boring, remember?

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : Very chilavruous of you

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : fuck I didn't spell that right

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : chivlarous

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : God fucking damn it

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : I don't screw women who are so drunk they can't remember their own name. Or -- you know, let's just leave it at I don't. All the reasons. Why are there no more cupcakes in this place.

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : I guess you're a better person than me

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : and what you need is brownies

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : I'm a person with anxiety and a touch disorder. And I want brownies. All the brownies. Don't sex shame yourself, man.

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : Who said I was sex shaming?

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : And what do you mean, touch disorder. is that why you wear the gloves?

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : Yeah. Touching things unexpectedly, it's like pissing on an electrical fence. 1/10, will not do if I can avoid.

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : Does it, you know. does it have a name? the disorder

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : Would if anyone could agree on what it is. Neuropathy, somatoform pain disorder, anxiety, chronic pain disorder, there's a whole fucking page of names that basically come down to, look, kid, we don't know why but just don't touch shit, ok.

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : My son used to hurt when he touched things too. maybe not as much as you, but

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : It's not the end of the world. Just have to be careful. And yeah, screwing random people who're too drunk to remember to be really careful is probably a very bad idea.

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : Probably. anyway, Rosencrantz is sleeping. you want to do stupid shit with him, it's going to have to wait.

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : Life is hard. I want those brownies. You're a hell of a lot less scary this way. God, that morning you were sitting around with that rifle.

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : Which way, I don't know what you mean. I'm so fucking high. and I thought we decided we weren't going to talk about that.

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about how you're fucking scary. And you like it. You give people that glower and watch them crumple up in little piles of terror and it cracks you the fuck up.

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : You don't know me, or what I like, ablidgardd. the fuck I don't know how to spell your name, the letters are like scrambled eggs cracked into a pan

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : Yeah, well, maybe I'd like to. Because in case you didn't know, your boyfriend talks about you 24/7 and you're the best thing since sliced bread. And I'm sick and tired of being scared. Don't show me this conversation when I get sober, I'll probably just get on a greyhound out of town and pretend I don't speak English.

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : I used to be in the Marines. I used to lead these big, bad motherfuckers into battle, you know? I needed them to be scared of me, because I couldn't afford for them to be scared of what they were going to fight. I mean, you got to know how it works, yeah? it's nothing personal, ablidgardd

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : Makes sense. Used to do that with students. Give them the whole I Am Somebody Important attitude just so they'd shut the hell up and think about their work instead of how to get in my pants. My pants aren't special. My name is a bit fancy here and people get stupid ideas.

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : But you shouldn't leave town. I'll make you brownies. Will that convince you to stay?

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : I mean, I wasn't going to. But now I'm definitely not going to. Play date with brownies?

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : ...

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : Uhhh

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : Play date meaning, you know, Rosencrantz and I play. VIOLINS. Dying now.

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : I'm just

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : Afk drowning myself in the tub.

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : too high for this

(TXT to Ravn) Ruiz : I'll get Rosencrantz to get back to you. don't actually fucking drown yourself, because i'll have to deal with the fucking paperwork.

(TXT to Ruiz) Ravn : Drown myself OUTSIDE city limits. Gotcha. Take care, mate.