When will it ever stop?

Girl: I’m gonna hit the sack.
Me: Are you tired?
Girl: Let me rephrase, I’m gonna hit your sack, your man satchel, etc.
Me: I am a gentleman of distinction and believe that act is reserved for married couples. Plus you sound super whorish.
Girl: That is a good thing. Let me show you how good it is.
Me: No. Do you read me?
Girl: I want to read you like I was blind and your body was Braille.
Me: Understandable. Please be sure to take maximum offense to this, you look like the ugly duckling that never made it to swan. Piss off immediately.
Girl: Please! I need you in my body…I mean my life. Oops, Freudian slip.
Me: I’ve given your proposition its due consideration and cannot be any firmer in my decision. No, absolutely not.
Girl: So your decision is rock hard?
Me: What’s wrong with you? Are you a sexual deviant? Are you retarded?
Girl: If either of those things turn you on, then yes.
Me: Good hell woman! I’d punch you but you look like you can take a punch. That is not attractive. At all.
Girl: Would you rather pull my hair?
Me: I'd rather have a normal, non-sexual conversation about how sick you make me. Please scram.

True story. Sometimes the truth is funnier than something you can make up.