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Old 03-04-2001, 12:42 AM
lno is offline
Join Date: Oct 2000
Location: In the state of denial
Posts: 4,836
Originally posted by inor
Who the fuck *are* you and can I be your friend?
I'm just a quiet guy who made the mistake tonight of thinking that White Castle hamburgers weren't a mistake. That's fodder for another thread, though.

According to Papa Murphy's corporate profile, they have 628 stores in 21 states. All I know is one opened a quarter-mile from my house last fall. The only explanation for the raw evil that emanates from that store is that they've got a portal to hell in the back room.
And I always ask for raw evil on just half the pizza, but they always screw it up.

The HOOTERS/PECKERS idea is another source of my burning rage. Along with White Castle, they'll be called out in the next barrage.

To set the stage: we were snuggling warmly on my couch some Friday night, watching Jay Leno's monologue with the intention of soon being too distracted by, um, other things to pay attention to his guests. For one reason or another, Jay Leno mentioned the annual telethon that Jerry Lewis runs. I commented, "You can only play Great Balls of Fire so many times before people stop donating, can't you?"

Laura paused and looked at me quizzically. "Who are you talking about?"

"Jerry Lewis, the whole telethon thing." I tickled her lightly. "You know, Leno just said something about it."

"No, you said something about great balls of fire."

"Right, that guy who says HEY LADY and stuff. And why do the French like Great Balls of Fire so much, anyway?"

She blinked, and tried to parse what I just said. "Wait, wait. Are you talking about Jerry Lewis or Jerry Lee Lewis?"

I raised one eyebrow in incomprehension. "Aren't they the same person?"

Her face lost all expression. She sat up and stared at me. "You think that Jerry Lewis and Jerry Lee Lewis are the same person?"

At this point, I began to be a little hesitant. "Um ... well, er, uh .. yeah." I suddenly felt a lot less self-confident.

"You KNOW they aren't the same person."

"Well ..." I avoided eye contact.

"You mean you DIDN'T know?!"

At this point, there's no weaseling out. No matter how many games of Diplomacy I've played, that situation is a dead end. I gathered what remaining courage I had, took a deep breath, set my shoulders, and said, "No."

I had to wait a while for her to respond. You know, for her to quit laughing hysterically, and to get off the floor, and to wipe the tears from her eyes. I tried to get her to stop of her own accord. I tried every weapon in my book:
  • Pretending I was joking, and that I really knew the difference. She didn't buy it.
  • Laughing along with her, trying to pre-empt the rest of the laughter. No luck there, mostly because I couldn't muster enough effort to really laugh at myself.
  • Making vague but stern threats if she wouldn't stop. I don't think I appeared authoritative in the least, as she'd just keep pointing and shrieking with laughter.
  • Even my previous nuclear weapon of relationships, my puppy-dog eyes, quivering lip, and a lone tear rolling down my cheek -- useless. (That one is the last straw- much like a previous girlfriend who would say "But .. don't you love me anymore?" to get her way when nothing else worked.)
Soon enough, she had pity on me, and rejoined me on the couch. Unfortunately, though, the snuggling went no further that night, as she'd periodically say "Jerry Lewis!" and start snickering. I haven't forgiven her for this. Much like Scylla and his tale of love and vomit and betrayal by his wife and daughter, revenge is mine. The linoleum waits for us all.

Or, in this case, the Jerry Lewis telethon waits for us all.