Maybe he meant this Floyd? He’s kind of pink…
Wow The Pink Floyd? Do you call him Pink or Mr. Floyd?
First you have to ask which one is him.
Well, that would be cool.
I once knew a woman who was a negative Ronnett. No matter how bad something in your life was, hers had to be worse. She married a guy who she met in prison while he was doing time for manslaughter!
My favorite story: We were discussing the recent death of a friend’s 4 year old son, the victim of a murder/suicide by his insane father. Now, that has to be the worst thing that could happen to anyone, right? Negative Ronnett states: Well, nobody has it worse than me. I had to bury my mother and father.
Toots, you are supposed to bury your parents, not your children.
Well, it depends in the details really. Am I right? I mean, when you need to hide the bodies, you’ve gotta dig really deep or animals will pull them right out of the ground. That’s a lot of work for one person.
I’d have responded, “Personally? You couldn’t afford a cemetery? Wow, that is bad. Where’d ya plant 'em?”
This reminds me, I have a Ron-duh story.
Many years ago, my best friend got married. She is from a military family and had her wedding at the military base in Virgina where most of her family was stationed. Most of her friends from NYC made the trip to attend the wedding, about 40 of them …including me, her husband’s best man and his girlfriend, Ron-duh.
I’m sure you know that Ron’s and Ron-duh’s don’t deal well with the concept of someone else’s special day. This was further complicated by the fact that Ron-duh’s boyfriend/babysitter was the best man and had other duties that day…he was a nice enough guy and all I can say is that Ron-duh must’ve been hell on wheels in the sack for this guy not to have kicked her to the curb.
So it is now the morning of the wedding day. My friend entertained all her out of town friends the night before and was now absorbed in her wedding and getting ready and stuff.
But the phone kept ringing. Robert called her to report that Ron-duh was very upset because she couldn’t buy cigarettes at the on-base PX because she wasn’t military ( the PX is a cut price store for service people only located on the military base). Ron-duh was not happy with the suggestion that she leave and buy her smokes at the 7-11, she was very upset that because the PX was “being mean” to her and she wanted someone to come down and talk to them. I think she got hung up on.
But Robert soon called the bride-to-be again, saying that Ron-duh wanted to know if any of the bridesmaids had any Vicodin or Percocet because she had a headache. The answer was no, she pushed the issue and got hung up on again.
Now we are at the church and Robert is pulling best man duty and unable to babysit Ron-duh, who showed up at the wedding in some sort of tattered black lace get-up. She is escorted to her seat.
But Ron-duh is unable to sit still for any length of time without her Percocets. She gets up and starts wandering around the church. She wanders all the way up to the altar and starts picking things up and examining them. Then ( still at the altar ) she pulls out a cigarette and lights up. At this point the bride’s dad, in full uniform, walks up to her and ( not kindly) tells her to put out the cigarette and take her seat.
Of course she doesn’t. She gets dark and angry and exits and finds the room where the bridal party is getting dressed and storms in and starts screaming at the bride that her dad is “being mean” to her. At this point the groom and best man find someone to take her back to her hotel- still kicking and screaming, I’m sure- and thankfully we did not see her again all weekend.
:eek: Did she say this in the presence of the woman who had lost her son?
Fortunately, no. She did tell the woman it was “her fault” for not trying to get the child away from his father.
I guess Ron-duh didn’t think going to family court sixteen times in four years was enough of an effort.
What a story!!
Technically - I think she was a Ronnette, not a Ron-duh. Ron-duhs are the people who are dumb enough to date the Rons in the first place:cool:
Either way - I can totally picture her wandering around the church - reminds me of my own wedding.
But I won’t bore y’all with that.
I seriously doubt you could bore us with any story you tell. You are a master story-teller!
Spill it!
Wow…when i tried to do that they told me Pink wasn’t well, he stayed back in the hotel.
Sounds like she might have used two or three just on 9/11/01.
Beaten to the punch yet again.
RR
Bolding mine. That isn’t HIM with a pseudonym, is it?
Yes, you are correct, I forgot my proper Ron terminology…also, I should’ve called the hapless boyfriend Robert-Duh.
Somehow in reading all this it didn’t occur to me that I knew a “Ron.”
SteveRon came to our little college in my senior year. He quickly established that he’d been a cop while a teenager, been in shootouts, been undercover, played for Uncle Slam, and had gold record(s) with them. Wikipedia shows they only had one album at that point, but we didn’t know that. I did wonder how I’d never heard of a band like that with that kind of success, but I’d met too few megalomaniacs at that point.
He didn’t seem to want to be real friends with us, so he drifted away, and I think only lasted that year there. What a tool and liar.
Okay, at this point I don’t think I could have stopped myself from totally losing it. And then when Ron asks why I’m laughing like a loon, I don’t think I could keep myself from explaining the whole damn thing, in detail, just so I could see the look on his face.
And yes, we need to hear the wedding story. Dare I say it? You’re like the female version of Master Wang-Ka. Your stories have me rolling, over here.
If you did explain it, I’m sure that Ron would come up with a even “foot-in-mouth” explanation, such as:
- You must have gone to the wrong seats!
- I will call the manager to demand a refund! I got connections there, ya know.
- Oh that town doesn’t have enough prime seating. I’m sure of it? Why, because I am partner with the theater there and I have been urging to them to add in more seats but…
Pure genius, Mel to the H!
Next time one of my careless, wasteful, upside down priorities aquaintances puts the bite on me for an “ahem” loan, I’ll employ that deliciously brilliant strategy.
One word of caution to all reading this, though: concert tickets are too often counterfeited these days. I’ve worked as a ticket taker/usher at a number of venues, and it never fails ~ the scarcer of more expensive the tickets are, the more bogus ones we have seen. A good way to protect oneself is to carefully examine the disclaimer on the back, forgeries often lack any of the micro writing for lawyers on the reverse side, or they don’t match the onfo on the front. For instance, I’ve seen mgmt. not responsible type references to what is obvioulsy a sporting event on the rear, but the front of the ticket is for, say The Lion King.
Finally, I’d nearly forgotten the prowling Ron demeanor you described in your first post…I can almost smell the flame broiled pickels and onion breath from here. You made my day, again.