A few weeks ago my four-year old daughter asked about a concept that she hasn’t been exposed to: God. Particularly:
“Daddy, is God a good-guy or a bad-guy?”
Four sentences in and her mother starts talking about dualism. I don’t think the child ever got her answer (except that, good-guy or bad-guy, God makes Mommy babble).
Heh. Something similar happened to me as a kid. At the age of five, I innocently asked my father as he tucked me into bed, “Daddy, what’s the difference between knowledge and wisdom?”
Simple question, right? No, my dad thought he had the next Immanuel Kant living in his house. So the next morning he sat down me and my sister (and maybe my baby brother, too–that’s how I remember it, but that can’t possibly be right!) and had all his college philosophy books handy. He talked about Plato, he talked about Aristotle, he talked about philosophers through the ages.
We were bored shitless. I mean, for fuck’s sake, I was FIVE! What did I know from Plato?
After far too long, he told me, very sincerely, “I hope you will continue to seek wisdom for all of your life.”
I nodded and said, “I’ll start right now. Oh WISDOM! Where ARE YOU?!”
My mom, hovering in the background, broke down laughing. My dad scowled furiously. I made my escape.
Daniel
My uncle was in the hospital visiting his wife. There was a puddle somewhere in a hallway in which he slipped and fell. The hospital staff rushed to him and asked where he fell to which he replied “On my ass, that’s where I fell!”
Questioner: How do you spell your name.
Me: Correctly.
For a while, my mother kept peppering everything with “no?” and “you know?” I broke her out of it (mostly) by replying “dunnow, you’re the one telling me, should be you who knows!”
I do it again every time she does it again and it’s good for another 10 months or so.
“My blood pressure” or “My npples”.
Q: “What’s the matter?”
A: “The man who makes mats”
Never fails.
I did this one to a coworker the other day.
Me: “Can I disturb you?”
Coworker: “Sure. What?”
Me: “There are more people alive today than have ever lived, and it’s not clear if the earth has the resources to sustain us all for a significant length of time.” ::Walks off::
Waitress: So how should I make the bill? (Meaning who’s paying what, loses a little in translation)
Dad: Well, you write down everything we ate, and how much each thing cost, then you add up all the numbers.
She didn’t like that. At all.
I ask my Dad: Could you pass me that pillow?
Dad: Your ASS is a pillow!
I ask my Dad: Could you turn the volume (on the TV) down?
Dad: Your ASS is the volume!
He does this with everything.
Apparently, my hindquarters are a versitile thing…
I was at a restaurant a few months ago. I was the last to order. Everyone else at the table ordered some sort of beef (how would you like that cooked?), when she got to me, I ordered chicken something or other. She said “How would you like that cooked?” I looked at the other people to make sure I wasn’t just hearing things, then I looked at her and said “All the way.”
When I was a teen: When dad and I wnt to breakfast I usually ordered ham and eggs. I’d ask the waitress if the ham was kosher. Deer. Headlights. I do remember one waitress offering, ‘Um… Well, it’s clean!’
When chatting with people, for example saying ‘I did such-and-such yesterday’, they often say, ‘Really?’ I used to tell them, ‘No, not really. I’m trying to fool you.’
I used to read a lot of Ellison, so sometimes when I was in a restaurant with other people and it came my turn to order, I’d say ‘I’ll have the boiled baby and a cup of warm hair.’
Person at the register: Hi.
Me: Not lately.
I think only about 40% of them get it.
Whenever I’m told to “Have a good day,” I usually answer: Too late.
Here’s an excerpt from an interview with Paul Westerberg (ex-Replacements frontman) a few years ago. The interviewer had asked him if, as a fixture in the Minneapolis music scene, Paul had ever met Prince.
Westerberg: I think he said two words to me in ten years. One was “hi.” The other was “life.”
**Interviewer: ** “Life?”
Westerberg: Yeah. I’d asked him, “what’s up?”
In our post office (& general store) many years ago, I was once buying some oranges. The assistant, wanting to price-check them, called out “Mavis! What are oranges?”. And although my name isn’t Mavis, I helpfully said “They’re little round yellow-y things. You eat them.”
“How’s your wife?”
“Better than nothing, I guess.”
My ex-husband had an aversion to answering direct questions, no matter how innocuous. He would respond to most questions with “Why ya wanna know? Ya writin’ a book?” A charming man. :rolleyes: However, to questions beginning with “where” the answer was always, “If it was up your ass, you’d know.” That one still gets used in our family from time to time, if there seems to be any comedic value in picturing the searched-for object stuck up the ass of the searcher.
Any child who asks me “what’s for dinner?” will recieve the answer, “Poop.” This actually has nothing to do with either my user name or what’s actually being served. Back in the olden days, when I used to answer the question truthfully, it sometimes elicited very annoying groans from the children. So I decided to give them something to groan about. If they get irritated (and they do), I threaten that one of these days I will actually serve them a turd. Got to keep children in line, don’t you know.
My grandfather is one of those guys who’ll answer “yes” to “excuse me, do you have the time?”
Once in NYC I asked a subway ticket vendor “may I have one of those maps, please?” He said “yes” and just looked blissful at me. I rolled my eyes, said “thank you, now that you have shown you’ve got the same sense of humor as my gramps, give me one.” He did. I think it may have been the “please” that gave me away 
When I was in the Army, my buddy was sent to the base shrink for an evaluation before he could be given a higher security clearance. He got bored by all the stupid questions (“Do you ever resent being told what to do?” “Would you say you are generally a happy person?” and so on).
Finally the shrink asked, “What would you feel if you shot your mother?”
Without missing a beat he relied, “Recoil.”
Needless to say, he did not get the clearance.