Crumbs

I didn't post anything day before yesterday because it was Steve's birthday and I wouldn't have been able to get away with anything other than a birthday post. And since we all know that birthday posts are an absolute bore, I spared us all. I whipped out my silence and scrubbed the place clean.
Now I'm dropping crumbs.

* * *

Florence McNair: my love for you is like...
******: Like a star.
Florence McNair: Like a star!!!
******: As bright as a star.
Florence McNair: Yes! Yes!
Florence McNair: are you sure that's a good one?
******: Sure. As corny as it is to talk about stars, since I don't know the first thing about them. My love for you is as big and bright and everlasting as a star.
Florence McNair: I dunno. There's an awful lot of empty space and darkness between me and those stars.
******: ...
******: You just killed it.
******: You always kill it. You took it and mashed it like a potato.
Florence McNair: That's because I like mashed potatos. And I wanted to eat you.
******: ????????
******: Whoa, okay, your idea of romantic conversation is wayyy weird.
Florence McNair: That's because I prefer to save romantic conversation for when I feel like I need it. When I'm insecure and sad.
******: What if I'm insecure and sad?
Florence McNair: Oh that's different. I'll be romantic now.
******: You can't TELL ME you're going to be romantic before you be romantic.
Florence McNair: Really? Shucks. Shall we just stop talking and have cybersex?
******: Okay.