Conversation I had with my magic 8 ball…
Kitta: Bob sent me a magic 8 ball and I’m asking it all sorts of questions, it’s so much easier than thinking.
Kitta: Should I go make dinner?
8 ball: Why not?
Phobia: Ask your 8 ball if I should go and buy dinner.
Kitta: Should Phobia go buy dinner?
8 ball: How should I know?
Kitta: Well, you are a mother fucking 8 ball.
8 ball: Sure.
Kitta: Don’t take that tone of voice with me young 8 ball!
8 ball: I’m cool with that.
Phobia: OMG, that 8 ball is pretty cool.
Kitta: Go to your room.
8 ball: No way!
I think my 8 ball is possessed by a smart assed teenager. 😕
If that 8 ball wasn’t pink it would be pretty fucking awesome 🙂
Hehehe pretty funny. Did that once with an 8 ball to see my future, I’m gonna have 6 wives, a flying dog called spot and rule the world as the next dictator. (I was 8)
I wouldn’t be too shocked unless your 8-ball decided to pierce and tatoo everything and lock itself in its room, listening to Linkin Park, all damn day. Then I’d be shocked…
Ok, Mister Magic 8 Ball. Don’t talk to Kitta that way!
It sounds like your 8 ball has developed an attitude problem from hanging out with the wrong crowd. I suggest sending it to a boarding school in Switzerland.
I’m suprised its not using more profanity.. I mean it is around Kitta a lot. :p
Gawd, everybody talks to Kitta except me. Even magic 8-balls.
ask the 8 ball if he wants to be smashed….
Nina: I just hope it doesn’t get knocked up by the first cute 8 ball that winks at her and has 8 ball babies 8 months later.
Jack Hartley: Good idea.
Phobia: Give it time, it’ll learn. :p
Youkie: It said “Yeah right!”