In Mandarin, yes.
Say it again?
With a “G.”
Yeah. But make sure you place the accent on the first syllable, or it means “scallops.”
You know I love the Chaos, because I will meet them anywhere, anytime, even after working a twelve-hour day, even if they’re sitting at an airport, even if they’re watching Willie Nelson at a racetrack in the rain.
With Vince, I can take the smallest statement like, “I love that videogame, but it made me sick the first few times I played it,” and within minutes we’re gagging with laughter over a vomiting gamer dude we’re impersonating with such speed that we’ve long left everybody else behind and people are staring at us.
Or, like the last time we were seated more than a foot away from the others, when we can turn the backseat of the car into the world’s most annoying Kanye West/Maroon 5 parody that keeps us giggling but makes the others begin openly plotting our deaths.
Or, like last night, when we decided his poor, exhausted friend Nancy, who had flown in from China that morning (and probably hadn’t slept in over thirty hours, but was still forced to sit in a pool hall with us), was seconds away from turning into a Girl Gone Wild, lifting her shirt and asking all the American boys to give her a double bogey.
He makes me laugh, he beats me in darts (especially air ones). I wish I could make LA and L.A. smash themselves much, much closer together.