Thursday, January 12, 2017

Words with Friends

A brief pause in the heated debate between a writer of pulp and our hero so that air might be cleared a little. You know your close to the rubber room when you find yourself yelling some very irrational things at a technical device.

 I'm beginning to think that our hero has entered a pact with that devil from Seattle Cortina, or Cortana, or whatever her name is. They're both in there somewhere, plotting against me. Ask me anything? My foot!

5 comments:

Gin said...

I've heard the term "frenemies" used on occasion in situations like this.

tim candler said...

A very good word for it. He's a menace. Like opening a door for the cat on a cold day. Yes, no, yes no. Then when you close the door she looks at you as though you've just swallowed her first born.

Gin said...

Cats and doors and decisions. I've discovered that a gentle tap of the foot to the posterior, as long as it's totally unexpected, resolves the stalemate in one direction or the other. (Mind you, it's best for household harmony not to be observed doing this.)

tim candler said...

Gin! I took your excellent advice with you know who. But failed miserably to follow through with the Girl Cat, she's far too clever for me.

Gin said...

Well, take heart. Spring and warm weather will eventually come to entice The Girl Cat through the door.