At Target:
Heidi: Ooh, clearance!
Me: Score!
Heidi: Geez.
Me: Yeah, why are the only sizes left extra small or 17?
Heidi: I don't know. I feel like I could wear a size 17 right now.
Me: Um, ok.
Heidi: It's true. I'm a fat whore today.
Me: Nice! You have such high self esteem.
Heidi: I know.
In the pajama section:
Me: Oh, what do you think of this?
Heidi: It's pretty slutty.
Me: I know, but it's only 5 dollars.
Heidi: Now would be a good time to start dressing like a slut.
Me: I could wear it when I entertain my gentleman callers.
Heidi: Oh really?
Me: Yeah, I don't know if you'd noticed the line of guys outside my room.
Heidi: I thought I heard talking.
Me: Oh, we weren't talking.
Heidi: God, you're a slut.
Me: No, I'm a lady of the evening*. Only a lady of the evening has gentleman callers.
In the shoe section:
Heidi: Are these the hooker heels you wear to whore it up?
Me: Yes, I have them in red.
In the car:
Me: Hey, turn right here.
Heidi: OK.
Me: Drive where I tell you, Fat Whore!
Heidi: Haha.
Me: Can I call you that from now on?
Heidi: Sure.
Me: I can't wait til your mom comes over and I'm all "Hey, Fat Whore, are the dishes in the dishwasher clean?"
Heidi: She'll love that. And of course they're not clean.
Me: I wish I had a derogatory nickname.
Heidi: I'll try to think of one for you.
Me: How about Stupid Slutty Slutface?
Heidi: No.
Me: Pimply McGee?
Heidi: No.
Me: OK.
Heidi: I'm trying to think of something with the word "cheap" in it.
Me: Wow, thanks.
Heidi: No problem.
*I am not a lady of the evening
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