Joe: You know what I'm not getting?
Bobby: What? Sex?
Joe: Oh, you're funny. No, I was gonna say taller. My doctor said I should be at least 5' 10" by the time I was 18, and here I am at 20 only 5' 9".
Bobby: Well, it's not exact. It's a guess.
Joe: What is?
Bobby: How tall someone will be.
Joe: Oh. Well, she also predicted some other things.
Bobby: Like what?
Joe: Oh, when I'd get married, how many kids I'd have, what I'd eaten that morning...
Joe: Oh, yeah, and the length of my cock.
Bobby: What the fuck?
Joe: It was pretty cool. She also guessed the names of various family members and the year I was born.
Bobby: What the hell kind of doctor is this?
Joe: I dunno, the sign on her lawn said she specialized in, like, predicting things about your life.
Bobby: Like a fortune teller?
Bobby: Did she use a crystal ball?
Bobby: Tarot cards?
Bobby: Did she read your palm?
Bobby: That would be a fortune teller.
Joe: No it wasn't.
Bobby: Shut up, it was!
Joe: No she wasn't! What's a fortune teller again?
Bobby: She tells your fortune.
Joe: Oh. Maybe it was.
Bobby: You idiot.