"Get off bee. Go play over there," I say.
"Yes, bees. That bee that was on you was totally entranced by the pattern on my bathing suit." Hunter says.
"Don't be stupid. That bee didn't like your bathing suit. It landed there by accident."
"Oh yes he did! He loved it. It reminded him of a honeycomb which is the shizzle to a bee," Hunter replies with absolute sincerity.
"That is straight up retarded. It was completely by chance he landed there."
"No it wasn't! He was looking for a safe place to sit. He saw the design and he flew around and around, he became enticed and then landed on my teet."
Stunned silence from me...
A couple minutes later.
"Why do you have the mother load of Russian caviar cans stacked in your kitchen cabinet?" Hunter asks after she has obviously been rummaging through them.
"My neighbors are Russian, they give it to us every Christmas."
"You don't eat it?" she asks.
"Does it appear that we do?"
Next she pulls a little glass caviar jar out of her bag that is housing her maryjawanna. "Are these inside of it?" she asks.
"What do you mean? It's all cans. Didn't you see?"
"Well maybe there are jars inside of the cans," she says.
"Are you fucking kidding me? You think there are glass jars inside of those little cans? Are you stoned now?"