Get over it. Basically you don’t mind gabbing, you just mind gabbing if it’s not about something that entertains you.
Wah.
Try living with someone who never talks and you’ll appreciate gabbers. At least with gabbers, you can say “shut up!” How do you get non-talkers to “just frickin’ say something!”
Duh? Of COURSE that’s what he minds, and what’s wrong with that?
Daniel
Shut up!
My mother is a Gabber. I can ignore it, or I can outgab her at times just to keep in practice, but what really bugs the crap out of me is when I take her somewhere like the grocery store and she proceeds to gab about my private life to the clerk. While I’m standing there saying, “Mother, she really doesn’t care about my son going into the Air Force…Mother, please don’t discuss my health history with a complete stranger…” usually to no avail but to shared eye-rolling from the clerk. Except for the rare occasions when she actually hears me say that, and then starts crying.
Yes, I’m glad I live on the other side of the country from her, why do you ask?
With the Latin teacher, not only was his gabbing entertaining, it was confined to an hour a day, and it served A PURPOSE in that it took up what would have been classwork. With my housemate’s gabbing, it just wastes time I’d be contemplating my life, or something…
Shut up, I think about a lot of stuff, for real.
Are the six threads you’ve started in your first four hours back the condensed distillation of everything you’ve thought about for the last month?
I work with one. Well, more than one, but I can avoid most of the others. This one sits right next to me and gabs about absolutely nothing all day long. It’s like being ceaselessly pelted with marshmallows. Sometimes she complains about people she knows who talk too much, whereupon my eyeballs roll out of my head and join Little Bird’s.
Make that ten (at least), not six.
Oh wah, wah, wah. You want your gabbing confined to your parameters. Wah. Blah, blah, blah. Your gabbering on about this bores me.
I still love you anyway.
Shut up!
Please don’t pit me- I’ve been Dope starved for a month, and these aren’t bad threads.
::Makes the Talky-Talky sign with thumb and four fingers::
14
I live with a gabber. She gabs a lot,
You live with my mother-in-law??
his mother’s detailed recounting
My mother is a Gabber.
My mom was a gabber
You’re living with my son’s grandmother?
there was a woman in town who was a gabber
You’re living with my male roommate?
I used to have a horrible housemate (she
My SIL is a gabber
My mother is a Gabber.
I work with one…Sometimes she complains
Which one of these is not like the other?
liberty3701, is your roommate straight?
Just askin’, is all.
Yep, I knew it- I knew you guys would fling my thread back at me when you noticed all the threads I was starting.
Except here’s the thing-
a.) you don’t hear my words
b.) you choose to enter my threads
c.) my threads actually have points; her gabbing often doesn’t.
d.) talking in threads is conversating; gabbing isn’t
e.) ::Makes the Fuck You sign with hand and middle finger:: :wally
I was thinking the exact same thing, but was afraid to ask- but that’s not entirely a safe assumption. I knew a guy named Adam who was straight, and he talked all the time- he was just an energetic, excited, annoying little heterosexual dude who chatted non-stop about music, music, music, etc. etc.
And that annoyed you. Poor you. At least you knew him.
Sez you.
Dude, you were asking women about their sexual fantasies and why they didn’t like anal sex. Go find a porn site-we’re not here to provide you with wank fodder.
a.) {{{internets}}}
b.) Incorrect. I can be annoyed by noticing your name all over the damn place.
c.) You do not like anal sex you say? Try it! Try it and you may!
d.) People talking is not necessarily conversation.
e.) Glad you were specific there. I’d hate to misunderstand and think you were making the Nosepickers Anonymous sign with your extended middle finger.
No they don’t.
**
THE GREATEST COMEBACK IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD!!!**
Seriously, guys, come on- please, let’s not start jumping on me. I won’t be starting 15 threads in one night in the future- this was an exception.
And before you make the joke, ^^ my ‘coming back’ was the worst in the history of the world. In case you were gonna say that.
I work with two – count’em TWO – Gabbers. One is my manager and the other is a PTimer. They are both nice people, but there is a limit to how much I can take of either of them.
The Manager starts a conversation on say, how strong the coffee is. And she’s off — I’ll be taken through the journey of how her husband blew up the coffee pot, the cruise she took to Hawaii, the people she met on that cruise 15 years ago, how she lost her bathing suit in an embarrassing fashion . . . and it will not end. I have WORK to do (you know, that thing I’m paid to do?). Being she’s my boss, there is no polite way to get out of monologue, unless the phone rings or the building catches fire.
The other one, well, I hear all about her darling children and husband, what cute and amusing things they’ve done in the past 24 hours, how the dog is afraid of the linoleum flooring.
This morning is was in a pissy mood and it must have showed. I managed to back away slowly and diplomatically and make a run for the safety and relative quiet of my desk while the two Gabsters amused themselves. For 35 minutes. On company time.
I could go on and on, but I won’t.