Oct 01 2004


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“Boobs,” he said. “I have a problem with boobs.”

Brigid gave Greg a sideways look. “Most men do,” she commented.

“No, I mean I have a problem with the word ‘boobs.’ I don’t like it when women call their breasts ‘boobs.’ What are you laughing at?”

Why,” she managed to get out, “don’t you like the word ‘boobs’?”

He scowled at a far corner of the room. “I just don’t, okay? It’s … I dunno. It’s demeaning.”

Brigid blinked. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. They … er … ‘boobs’ is goofy. I mean, ‘breasts’ isn’t exactly a beautiful word, but at least it’s not goofy.”

Brigid was laughing even harder now. “Yes, we must take very seriously the all-sacred boobies!” She began violently wiggling her torso in a particularly lewd manner.

“Stop that!” said Greg, jumping to his feet and moving away.

“Oh come on,” she said. “You’re being ridiculous! If you can call yours a wiener, I can call mine boobies!”

Greg frowned. “Well I don’t much like the word ‘wiener’ either!”

Brigid rolled her eyes and sighed. “You’re hopeless,” she said, and headed for the kitchen.

“At least I’m consistent!” he announced to her retreating back.

-The Gneech

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Sep 30 2004


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“I want to be fascinating,” Greg said. “Am I fascinating?”

“Well…” said Brigid.

“So I’m not.”

“Perhaps I’m just not easily fascinated,” Brigid suggested.

Greg sunk back into his chair. “It’s not just you; nobody thinks I’m fascinating.”

“I think maybe you’re trying too hard; or possibly that you’re focusing on yourself too much. The most fascinating people I know are too busy being fascinated by other things to notice how fascinating they are, do you follow?”

“No,” said Greg. “Not really.”

“Well look, do you remember the party the other night, when Taylor wouldn’t stop talking about his new car and all the bells and whistles on it?”


“Did that fascinate you?”

“Heck no, it was dull as dirt.”

“Precisely my point,” said Brigid. “Who did fascinate you?”

“Sharon’s story about her crazy uncle,” Greg replied.

“Yes, exactly!” Brigid poked a finger into the air to emphasize her point. “She wasn’t trying to be fascinating! She just jumped headfirst into the story and told it with all she had. It wasn’t about her at all, do you see?”

Greg sighed. “But I’m no good at being interested in anything but myself.”

Brigid rolled her eyes. “I know, I know.”

-The Gneech

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Sep 29 2004


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“Well this is an unexpected missive,” I said, reading from the screen. “Dear Gerg: Get smooth, touchable skin in just six days!”

Brigid laughed. “Ha! Even if your skin was smooth, where would you find someone who wanted to touch it?”

Doing my best to hide the mortal stab at my heart, I replied, “I was rather referring to the fact that they spelled my name ‘Gerg.'”

“Oh,” said Brigid. “Oops.”

Another day, another kick to the head. I decided that my best bet from here was the coffeehouse around the corner.

-The Gneech

NOTE: This is the first of the Brigid & Greg Fictionlets. However, there is an earlier entry here that was basically a B&G entry before B&G existed. You can also a complete listing of the B&G fictionlets and related posts here.

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