We had friends stay over with their two kids, 3 and 2 months, and the well-endowed mother was breastfeeding. I had my eyes fixed straight ahead, so as not to get caught trying to catch a glimpse of bare boobage, and my 5-year old was clowning around wiht his clothes. The friend asked if phunkid could dress himself to which I replied:
Yes, he can breast himself.
Even my 5-year old laughed at that one… bring 'em on…
One of my English teachers had a good one. As a student he was learning about the Boer War in history class (he’s 60) when the district inspector came in to look at the class. His teacher asked him who the Boers were and he replied that they were prostitutes who went to Africa to escape prosecution.
Not a Freudian slip exactly, but just the other night I was offering to drive a friend home from rehearsal. Sometimes I’ll manipulate language a little to use fewer words, verbing (ha!) nouns and cutting out the verbs all together, so if I was offering to make someone dinner, I might say, “can I dinner you?” Just kind of having fun with language.
Anyway, last night I said, “can I ride you home?” to my friend Andrew, and then immediately realised whta I’d said. Needless to say, everyone in the show was making fun of me about it instantly.
This one haunts my nightmares. Working on scripting out a fight scene with a woman whom at the time I was amazingly attracted to. We’re talking about banter and reparte, and out come the lines from various movies, including Princess Bride. What I -meant- to say was Wesley’s line, “And you’ve done nothing but study swordplay ever since?”
Swordplay. Not foreplay. :eek: :smack:
I had a rather cute guy come in one day asking if he had to pick up a certain item for his art course. I replied, “It should have come in your kit.”
But it didn’t quite come out that way. No, my friends, I said clit. :eek:
A buxom woman in my office was dating a guy in Vermont; this guy tapped his maple trees and sold maple syrup. She would take orders before her visits, and would return with the real stuff.
For several years the syrup came in 1 gallon (or smaller) rectangular cans (the generic type that can hold paint thinner, or that sort of thing). He must have had some concern about using metal, and switched to plastic instead.
The next time she returned with an order, she called me to come to her desk to pick it up. She bent forward to pick up my syrup, and from my elevated position I looked down at the new containers and said “Hey! Nice jugs!”. :o
I don’t see that this is particularly about arts/entertainment/leisure, and hence I’m moving it from Cafe Society to IMHO.
I was in a taxi a couple of weeks ago that got into a very minor accident. I told my co-workers the next day that I had been rear-ended in a taxi the previous evening. Hilarity ensued.
I think all of my best ones have happened right here.
Another on large body parts that invaded the sense and the brain.
The headmaster’s wife was entertaining the bsihop after he had preached in chapel. She sat her kids down before his arrival with her husband, and told them that he had a large wart on his nose but that they must not mehntion it, or stare at it. In she comes with the coffee tray.
“Your grace, will you have milk with your nose?”
My very first show as Stage Manager, I was very nervous about calling cues for the lights, followspots, etc. Opening night went very well, and I was a little more relaxed the second night when the girl running lights had a major meltdown and blacked the entire stage. I got my spots to open up and provide light while I talked the light operator through the problem, with a hysterical director standing at my elbow screaming at me. (He couldn’t climb the ladder to the light booth to scream at her.) Finally got the lights corrected and was beginning to catch my breath and be a little pissed off at the director when the time came for the next set of cues. So what did I, the nerves-of-steel Stage Manager, say into my headset? “Warning: follow twat cue 19”.
The girls running spotlights were laughing so hard (silently) the balcony they were on was bouncing, causing the spots to bounce.
God knows why but one time at a fast food store I asked for a large Dr. Pecker.
I don’t know how Freudian this is, but when I was a bank teller, a woman walked up to my window and handed me some paperwork. I looked it over, and saw that she was withdrawing money from her husband’s account. This would have been kosher if her husband had signed the slip, but he hadn’t. “Ma’am, your husband is going to have to sign this”, Said I. Said she, in a deep basso voice, “I’m a man!” Indeed, he was right. No wonder the lady looked like she needed a shave.
There is no possible way out of that one.
I’m the only female at my place of employment. One time on payday, as we were all leaving, a couple of guys asked me a question (I don’t recall what it was).
I jokingly said, “I’ll answer that if you guys just give me your checks”
Except I said “sex” instead of “checks.”
I turned red, they laughed hysterically.
During orientation at a new job, the boss was explaining the company’s policy regarding drug and alcohol use. He told me that coming to work “with beer on your breasts” was grounds for termination.
I guess he meant “breath”. After fighting it for a minute, I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
In high school I was talking to some friends about ski boots (for downhill skiing). There are two kinds: the ones that open toward the front of the boot, and ones that open at the back. When asked which style I liked better, I replied, “I prefer rear-entry for easy access.”
Didn’t live that one down for a few years.
Not exactly Freudian, but I seem to always say Funeral instead of Wedding. lol
Many times when I talk about my girlfriend, I say “sister” instead of “girlfriend.” I don’t even want to consider what the old Frued Dude would have to say about that.
In an otherwise erudite discussion about African cultural practices with a friend of mine, a smart (and not unattractive) International Studies major, I believe I condemned the oppressive and cruel practice of female genital manipulation.
[sub]Correct term, of course, being female genital mutilation.[/sub]
I don’t have one to share, but this thread does remind me of a great joke:
A man walked up to a ticket counter to buy a bus ticket to Pittsburgh. The woman selling the tickets was rather well endowed, which made the poor man rather flustered. “I’d like one ticket to Titsburg - I mean Pittsburgh, please,” he said, blushing furiously. He looked really upset about what he had said, so a man behind him in line pulled him aside and said, "Look, don’t worry about it. That’s what’s called a ‘Freudian Slip.’ Sometimes it just happens. Like this morning, for instance, I meant to ask my wife to ‘pass the butter,’ but what I really said was …
you ruined my life you soul-sucking bitch!"
Thank you, thank you.