“Another happy Christmas tale,” said in somewhat mournful tones.
Origin: my husband and I visited my mom over Christmas, and it seemed like a lot of the stories she told during the trip wound up being rather sad or morbid. It’s not her usual style and I know it wasn’t her intention, it was just we started talking about family history, and like most families we have our share of tragic ancestral events. Anyway, my husband would say in a low voice after each one, “Ah, another happy Christmas tale,” and now we use it for any downer story that comes up.
Awww… that’s awesome. But I can’t take credit for it. While I was in the floor laughing, I took note of Tom’s thick soled two tone lace up brogans. Yep. He still wears 'em. He is my bestest friend at work, partly because I can always count on him to scream like a little girl, leap onto a chair, and text me on his cell phone if he spots a bug in the building. And he won’t look away from the offending insect when he texts for help… so I get mysterious messages like “s7ider” and “centipee” (He won’t yell for me because he doesn’t want anyone else to know that he is in distress. Great guy. We got this yin/yang thing going.)
Our catch phrases are various obscenities from Gunnery Sergant Hartman’s address to his troops. When one of us is floundering and searching for a word in conversation the other will shout “Are you about to call me an a**hole?!?!?!”
Waja-Wajow!
A general exclimation of sucess, usually said with the final blow of defeat. (or the winning hand laid down, or correct answer revealed, or whatever) Said slowly with heavy emphasis on the “jow”.