Here are 3 of the 4 actual messages on my answering machine at this moment:
1. Olive, sweetie, it's Mummy. Oh, honey, pick up, I need you. Bernard has locked us out of his Lexus and, honey, I'm afraid we're going to be mugged or molested in some way. Could you meet us at the Uptown Theatre with his spare keys? Lunch is on us.
Where to begin. Mother has Bernard's spare keys to his car. Hmmm... Mother is afraid of being "molested" at 11 am in the downtown theatre district. Mother has not slurred any words (e.g., "schweedie" for "sweetie"). I did not pick up.
2. Hey, Ma. Could you stop calling me at Jackie's place? You're freaking her out. Use my cell. Don't call Jackie's cell. Call me directly. 'Kay? Don't call me at Jackie's. Bye.
My brother, Oliver, referring to his loser girlfriend. Jackie has 2 kids from 3 different fathers. Jackie has a tattoo of an angel reading the Bible on her shoulder. An angel... reading... the Bible.
3. [Not for you].
No comment.
4. Yeah, this is Robert from Levon's Liquor and Grocery. Your prescription is ready and I checked with the manager - we don't carry anti-fungal toilet guards.
No fucking idea. Don't think I want to know. On second thought, I'll find out and let you all know what that was all about. I feel obligated
Hope you enjoyed and, hey, call me sometime.
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