**SHAKES ! ** That was totally awesome and so smooooooth!
I pride myself in the right line at the right time ™ moment. None plagarized, but I also beleive that for every situation you are in there is a cliche to get you out of it. Look for my soon to be written book **Better Living Thru Cliches **
Anywhooooo (I’ve told this one before.)
My cousin’s mother in law had died. I was at the funeral home paying my respects. Being that I never see anyone, especially my cousins whom I adore, it was like a family reunion for me.
So I am being jovial with my cousin’s wife, Linda (great gal) who had just lost her mother to ovarian cancer. I realized that maybe I was being too chipper and happy in such a somber place and switched gears.
Me: (Looking at open coffin) Your mom looks really good.
Linda: She wasn’t able to go through all the chemo and radiation because it was caught so late so she didn’t lose a ton of weight/hair, etc…
Me: (For some reason I said - and I’ve never said this before about the deceases outfit) That’s a nice dress she is wearing.
Linda- I made that for my mom in home ec class in high school. ( She’s been out for almost 20 years) and it has always been one of her favorite outfits over the years.
me (agog) She can a) Wear the same dress for 20 years…I should be so lucky…and b) you were quite talented …
**Linda ** Well, mom was always tall and skinny…(blah blah)
**Me ** If my mom died tomorrow and had me pick out something I made for her…well…(bringing my hands up to my boobs) these potholders would look nice.
It brought down the house.
Then at a friends Catholic Wedding, I sat in the back with all my husbands degenerate friends who are not Papists, like I was raised.
During the Blessing of the Couple, where the congregation raises a hand to (duh) bless the couple, one of the guys mutters,
“What in the hell is this?”
From behind I mutter a little loud, " Heil Hitler."
All you can hear on the wedding video is gales of laughter for about two minutes. That is all anyone remembers about that friends wedding.
Mr. Ujest was digging a hole in the rain in the mud. ( He had to plug a leak in a basement wall.) There was my father in law watching him ( he is in a wheelchair and was in his van on cement) and the home owners who were buying the house from Mr. Ujest. It was a bitchingly cold day and there is Mr. Ujest, covered in mud, it is sleeting and he is about shoulder deep down in this hole he has just dug by himself. ( His family speaks German, btw.)
I slogged up in the mud, saw this sight, and said " Arbeit Mach Frei." *
My father in law tittered. My husband scowled. The neighbors didn’t get it. but I thought it was hysterical.
Arbeit Mach Frei was the words across the gate of a concentration camp for the prisoners that mean, " Work Makes You Free".
**For One Moment In Time I was The Funniest Person In Germany **which ain’t as hard to acheive as you think
It is also a ‘You Had To Be There And Trapped With Your German Relations and Do Not Sprechen Their Language Moment.’
We were visiting the German relations in Northern Germany. Went out to a nice family restaurant with the entire German Ujest Family.Twenty people at one long table. It is Sunday and the place is packed.
Since we are about 50 miles from the North Sea, I decide to order fish. Something different than what I would order at home and trying something new. This is my culinary motto when traveling.
Fish in Germany seems to always come with the bones. Lots of bones. YMMV.
So I am staring down at this exceptionally boney fish and mutter to my husband sitting across from me, " If I should start choking, do you know what to do?"
Mr. Ujest, " No. But I’ll just ask someone in the room."
Me. " Oh that’s ripe. (dead panning) Does anyone hear no Heimlich?" (switching to a german accent ) ‘Ja, I know him, why do you ask?’ "
My husband and I could not breath for a good five minutes. We had tears streaming down our faces and were giggling out of control, heads down on the table and knee slapping involved. Every eye in the restaurant was on us, including his family who thought we had taken leave of our senses.
(nothing funnier will be said, so don’t hold your breath.)
Mr. Ujest decided he had to *share * this with his family. And I stopped him with a " Oh, please don’t. They won’t get it and it will ruin the moment…" . Naturally, Mr. Ujest translates this and the reaction from the family was …uh…less than enthusiastic.
SHAKES–that is VERY impressive!
I, too, must give props to SHAKES. I’ll have to use that in a story or script sometime (if you’d allow me to, of course, sir).
Anyway, my perfect one-liner…
I was at a restaurant (appropriately named “BJ’s”) with a bunch of friends. As is oft the case, we fell into discussion about numerous topics (religion, politics)… this evening, we were talking about sex and porn. More specifically, we were discussing why we knew so few women who were turned on by the thought of male-on-male gay sex, while so many guys we knew were incredibly turned on at the thought of female-on-female lesbian sex.
One of the guys in our group, Brian, offered up his theory…
BRIAN: “Well, look at men… they have a positive part, and a negative part, while women have two negative parts…”
ME (interrupting): “I consider them positive parts, myself…”
The table erupted in laughter that lasted a good five minutes. It was at that moment that we decided that the evening had waned enough, and we took our respective leaves.
I’m driving my SO and a coworker to pick up another coworker whom we’ll call Mary.
Mary is, well, a ditz. The porch light is dim. She’s legend where my SO works for being, well, just not all there. Unreliable thru sheer dimwittedness, beyond cute-dumb to real-annoying-dumb.
SO: “turn left here…left at the next right…ok, third house down…OK, this is the house.”
Me: “Yes, I know – I saw the sign.”
- and I point to the sign, directly in front of Mary’s house, that reads “DIP”.
SO and friend were still turning blue trying to not laugh as Marcie gets in the car and they have to stifle it the rest of the ride.
Dang, this is some funny stuff!
I was sure I’d told this before but I guess that thread is lost.
This occured back when I was channelling my biker chick persona with far greater frequency, i.e., I swore a hell of a lot. The boy I was dating at the time decided that he didn’t approve of all that foul language. It seems he also decided that the most efficacious method by which to bring his disapproval to my attention was… public humiliation. Apparently his plan was to embarrass me in front of his friends, in order that I might go forth and swear no more.
So, there we were, on a sunny day in the park. Wouldn’t you know, I burn a hole in my favourite skirt with my cigarette.
Me: long string of profanity
Him: (sneering) “Do you eat with the mouth?”
Me: “I suck you off with this mouth and you don’t seem to have a problem with that !”
More recently: When Carnie first moved in with me, he and the cat simply could not go for even an hour without fighting. (Not serious, boyfriend-or-the-cat fighting, but he teased her a lot more than necessary and she scratched him up but good.)
One day, I came home to find him nursing fresh wounds and her hunkered down on the quilt hissing and lashing her tail.
Me: “Oh, for pity’s sake! You’re supposed to be a member of the species that has that whole opposable-thumb/bulgy cranium goin’ for them, so why is it that you cannot get along with some flat-headed, bug-eating, toe-walker?”
Carnie: “Well, see, what’s happing, see, is we’re fighting over who’s going to be the dominant animal in this house…”
Me: (interrupting) “That would be me.”
well, this is dumb, but I liked it.
I was at a party and a friend of mine was talking to some people who were discussing the movie Casablanca. A trivia question came up that no one could answer.
He rushed over to me. “Quick, what was Rick’s last name in Casablanca?”
I pretended to think hard. “It was O’Shea.”
He marched back and confidently announced “his name was Rick O’Shea.”
Just had this one thrust upon me, walking out to coffee:
Friend 1: Is that a new suit?
Me: Nah, I don’t wear it much 'cos it’s only single breasted.
Friend 2: And you prefer your breasts in doubles?
Here in Australia, fireworks have been banned for years EXCEPT in the ACT (sort of a mini-state) which is also the seat of our Federal Parliament. You can go to Canberra (ACT) and with a wink and a nod (or a licence if you’re a dag) purchase any number of explosive thingys to light up your life.
Now a friend and I were talking about this one day, how it was so unfair that you could buy penny-bungers and catherine wheels THERE, but not anywhere else.
Then we got ro reminiscing about Guy Fawkes blowing up the parliament in England and how ironic it was that the only place in Aus. to buy these pyrotechnic delights was Canberra, especially given the percieved corruption that is meant to take place in that godforsaken hole.
Anyway, I came out with the clanger.
“I’d never trust a pollie with a cracker”
(Even though I didn’t mean it to come out quite the way it did!! I didn’t see the ‘joke’ until the friend had picked 'imself up off the floor and explained to me the double entendre. THEN I realized what a clever little boffin I was!!)
kambuckta finally someone else in my timezone. Ditto Melbourne.
A guy I was stationed with in Homestead and I were chatting at work, and he was holding a longer-than-average ruler in his hands.
“So, chique, you want my 18 inches?”
“What are you going to do? Fuck me six times?”
It took him a long time to live that one down.
During one of my pretentious teenage years (actually, they were all pretentious) I was sitting in my aunt’s kitchen and not-very-subtly bragging about my IQ, and that I would never marry a woman with an IQ less than 140.
My aunt paused and said “Get two seventies.”
I don’t brag as much these days.
Your aunt is seriously with it.
I can’t believe my thread (the second new thread I’ve started) has gone on this long.
A woman I had been dating for some time had just broken off the relationship and would not tell me why. One day, I was paged to her register (we both worked at the same place-in case you didn’t figure that out). When I got there, she was in the middle of dealing with a customer, so I waited for the customer to leave.
When she was free, I asked, “What’s on your mind?”
She replied, “Oh, it was nothing.”
I said, “Yeah, you’re probably right.” and calmly walked away with the best feeling I had had in days.
I was watching TV with a bunch of people, when a commercial comes on where a woman ties a knot in a cherry stem with her tongue.
Me: I don’t see how that’s supposed to be impressive. Hell, * I * can do that.
Jennifer: Then you have a very agile tongue.
Me(with perfect timing): Tell your friends.
Shirly, you made me remember one that happened to me… and it was a situation where it was done to me and my wife as we were getting married… and not a word was even said.
We were sitting up on the alter and stood up for the Gospel reading. As everyone in the church stood up, all the groomsmen (all six of them) stood up and put on their sun glasses… just for the Gospel reading. Noone except my wife, the preist, and I could see this and it was everything we could do to keep from laughing histerically.
Then there was the time when I was 14 and we were taking a bus tour to the top of Pike’s Peak in Colorodo. The bus driver was talking to us over the mic while driving and the road had turned into a 1 lane dirt road, which meant that he would have to pull over to let cars coming down the mountian enough room to pass us. Well, one time he did this, he pulled over to the side of the road that was near the ledge… and there wasn’t any side rail. So as he did this, all us passengers were freaking out. The driver responded with, “Hey, I was just being polite and pulling over to the side of the road.” I immediately responded with, “Yeah, the WRONG side.” Everyone cracked up!
I’ll spare you the background, but there were about 15 of us guys in a station wagon one day driving through the city with a bike rack on the back with one bike on it. This car was crammed. There were feet sticking out of the windows, people lying on each others’ laps, all that sort of thing. So we pull up to a stop light, and these two guys in the car next to us are obviously wondering what on earth is going on. The driver rolls down his window and yells, “What, only one bike?” Without missing a beat, I, in the passenger seat, yell back “Yeah, you should see us on that!” At that moment, the light turns green, and we drive off, leaving them laughing hysterically.
Quite possibly the most perfect moment of my life.
I posted this one not too long ago, but what the heck, it still cracks me up:
A friend of ours used to perform folk music with her then-husband. (They broke up and now perform separately.) Anyway, he was the one who did most of the stage patter between songs, occasionally saying, “Isn’t that right, honey?” and then she’d say, “Yup,” or something equally scintillating.
Except for the one time . . . He’d been talking about how she was busting his hump, making him do all the housework: do the dishes, vacuum, and “she even makes me clean out the catbox!” He turned to her with a look, and she said,
“Well, you’re the only one who uses it!”
She says the look on his face was worth about a million bucks. And the audience never quite recovered.
Here’s one of mine: One day I was waiting patiently while Mr. S carefully chose a single strip of pine for some project or other from the bin at Fleet Farm. I wandered off a few times and came back, only to find him still sorting. Finally he emerged from the aisle with his prize. “I found my piece of wood,” he declared. “I know,” I said cheerfully, with a hint of wonder in my voice, “I saw the puff of white smoke.”
And one of Mr. S’s: He was tired and resting on the couch, and I called to him from the kitchen:
“Want me to put on some water for tea?”
Sorry, but how is this a “perfect one-liner”?
Someone makes a harmless remark about their chair, and you try to turn it into a political statement about a situation over which they have no control?