This Is My Limp, Sanchez

My friend and I recently had an interesting (completely awesome) conversation. It went a little something like this: (actually, it went exactly like this as it was a textversation and I just typed it out).

First off, to contextualize, I was talking with my friend, let’s call her Meredith, about her wearing sunglasses at night and I told her there was a fine line between super freakin cool and total doucheknocker.

Meri: I was going for total douche. Just so we’re clear.

Meg: Well then be sure to add a swagger to your walk. And possibly a scarf.

Meri: I lurve scarves! And I already swagger. At least that’s what I call my limp.

Meg: Really? I call mine Sanchez.

Meri: I hate Mondays. I always walk with extra Swagger. And Sanchez is a terrible name for a limp.

Meg: What? I love the name Sanchez. YOu’d have me call him something like Strut?

Meri: It sounds more like a peg leg…  Sanchez doesn’t seem limp-esque to me. Ferdinand maybe, but not Sanchez.

Meg: I dunno, I thik Sanchez has inherent swagger. Ferdinand, while exotic, sounds more like what I’d name my gay parrot, if I had one.

Meri: I totally want a gay parrot! He’d go perfectly with Sanchez (my peg leg)!

Meg: You can’t have Sanchez! I’m already using it! What about Pedro? Then you have the addition of awesome alliteration.

Meri: If I ever have a leg amputated I’m going to name the fake one Sanchez just to spite you. And everyone will think you’re a heartless bitch when you complain! Muahahahaha!

Meg: They already think that! So there!

Joke’s totally on her.

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