I am Fucking Jovial, Dammit!

Jessica and I had our regular dinner together last week. I swear, we have the strangest conversations:

Me: .... You know, because I'm always the fat, jovial one.
Jessica: First of all, you're not fat. Second of all, you're not jovial.
Me: [...] ?
Jessica: You're not jovial. Really, you're not. It's not an insult.
Me: I can't believe you think that! I am too jovial!
Jessica: You've got an edge to you.
Me: I am perfectly cute, happy and upbeat. I'm jovial! Kinda like Santa Claus. Who is also fat, by the way.
Jessica: You're still not fat. And you've got an edge to you that removes you from the world of jovial-ness.
Me: I am jovial, dammit! Call me jovial or so help me I will leave this restaurant right now!
Jessica: Okay, okay. You're jovial.
Me: Now you're just humoring me.
Jessica: Yes. Because you're not jovial. You've got an edge.

You can't make this shit up. Jessica cracks me up.

PS: I told my friend Lora about this conversation and how Jessica doesn't think I'm jovial. "Sometimes," Lora told me, "you can be a little bit too jovial."