Pillage and Plunder

It's fairly late at night after a day during which I did more - much more - than I should have. I'm on tramadol, and I should realize that tramadol, combined with exhaustion, should suggest that I may not want to try to carry on a conversation, and if I do, I shouldn't expect it to be at all coherent.

I rifle through a few bags of thrift store finds, and exclaim, "Pillages!"

"What did you say?" inquires my husband?

"I said pillages, but that's not right."

"What is it, then?"

"Lots of pillows."  

"Did you come by them honestly, or did you pillage them?"

"I bought them at Savers."

"Not pillages, then - and even if you did pillage them, they'd be plunder, not pillages."

*sigh* "No pillages. Not even plunder. Not so exciting after all." *pout*

Methinks I should go to bed now.