I do this yo my overly verbose husband all the time. He will start ‘saying’ something and I will interrupt him with my locial response before he actually says anything. So, approximately:
Him: I was just thinking that…
Me: I know, she really should tell him not to leave the car unlocked.
Him: ???
But we have been together so long that 90% of the time, I am right (and the other 10% is worth it for him to get to the point, dammit!).
It’s where it’s always been.
Buried in Rosita Park under the big “W”.
In a small lock box.
The combination is 34L 18R 56 L
You have to jiggle the handle at least twice because the tumblers are old.
It’s in the blue envelope. Ignore the cash. I left that there for somebody else.
Glad to help,
Bubba
According to the Lincoln Presidential Library in Springfield, Ill., Abraham Lincoln’s law office wasn’t all that well-organized. He actually had a stack of odds-and-ends papers tied together with a note stating, “When you’re looked everywhere else and not found it, look here.”
George Clooney, right? I knew it!
My mother does this. It’s like she’s having her own private little conversation in her head, and then decides to verbalize it somewhere in the middle.
My husband has pointed out that I’m taking after her. But fortunately I realize that the conversation started in my head, so I’m able to quickly get him up to speed. 
I heard someone was looking for me?
Where have you been?
There’s a big hayfield up near Buxton. You know where Buxton is?
**[URL=“Morgan Freeman - IMDb”]**It’s got a long rock wall with a big oak tree at the north end. It’s like something out of a Robert Frost poem. At the base of that wall, you’ll find a rock that has no earthly business in a Maine hayfield. Piece of black, volcanic glass. Look underneath that rock. . .
I used to play tabletop RPGs with my brothers. Middlebro had to be told repeatedly that he had to pick body shape, gender, coloring and size for his characters: “you can’t be tall when you want to and short when you want to, it’s a Barbarian, not Mister Fantastic!”
When one of us complains about his inability to follow some rule or other, the rest of the family answers “who are we talking about? We’re talking about the kid who hated laws so much he wanted to abolish the Law of Gravity, right? Well, he’s still the same!”
I find a funny (to me at least) way to deal with the “It’s over there!”-with-no-additional-explanation-loop is to adopt my best Don LaFontaine voice and narrate the question in the style of a movie trailer…
In A World… Where One Ordinary Man… Is Looking For [Item]… His Friend [Wife/Girlfriend/Colleague/Etc] will provide an unsatisfactory answer of dubious usefulness… Causing That Man to search for the True Meaning of the Answer He Seeks… And Prompting Him To Re-Ask The Question… In The Hopes Of Receiving A Specific Answer. Coming Immediately To A [Location] Near You… “Where, Exactly, And Next To What, Is [Item]?”. 
Mrs P: “Her!. Haven’t you been listening?”
Sure this is all just mildly annoying in casual conversation but what happens when the surgeon performing an intricate procedure on your brain is afflicted by the same aversion to nouns?
S: Thingy.
N: What?
S: Thingy, the cuttie thing, you know.
N: Scalpel perhaps?
S: Yes! Isn’t that what I said? Hurry up!
S: A bit of thing here nurse.
N: What?
S: Thingy, slurpy thing for this runny stuff coming out of that thing he thinks with, you know, hurry or he’ll thing.
Sorry, I took it when you weren’t home. I loaned it to someone; they’ll give it back when they are done with it. Thanks!