Post funny stuff that happens to you IRL. I was going to do that but I got too baked and couldn’t remember what happened.
You know your wife is a lefty when you are washing your own balls in the shower and she finds out and says “This is a union shop, scab!”
A woman after my own heart. hahaha
A funny thing happened to me years ago when I was in college.
Our French prof had scheduled an in-class screening of a documentary about ISKCON (context: we were learning how news media use language to manipulate us). As it so happened, he had an acquaintance who’d been part of the movement for years and this person had agreed to come to class in order to field our questions a week prior to the screening so we would have some background to work with (none of us knew much about the Hare Krishnas, save for having seen them around the downtown core dancing, chanting, and tripping out on their thumb cymbals).
I was very interested because I knew I had a family member (a great-uncle) who’d been with the Krishnas for years but I’d never met him as a) even his very existence was never discussed by his family (with whom I had fairly close ties), and b) he supposedly was living somewhere in or near Vancouver. So, using a Bhagavad Gita belonging to my father’s wife, I boned up on the scriptures the HKs considered most holy. I read the thing twice in the same evening, I took notes, setting down what I considered contradictions and just plain idiocy. I felt I was prepared to ask some pretty pointed questions to this freaky monk on the day of his visit to our class.
A couple of days later, when the time came, our prof introduced us to his acquaintance: some bald guy of indeterminate age wearing a snappy suit and tie. We were prepared to be disappointed, as we were all looking forward to seeing one of these chanting specimens up close, but, a few seconds after Baldy made his entrance, a yellow-robed devotee followed him in. They both sat at the prof’s desk and then Baldy gave us the ISKCON basic tour. I was fascinated.
When question period came, I jumped right in. Right off the bat, I asked Baldy how he could reconcile spirituality with the opulence and wealth that are so glorified in the Gita. He laughed and said (and these were his exact words): “Are you stupid? Do you think that what you just described as ‘opulence and wealth’ are meant to be understood in any other way than symbolically? Your understanding is very shallow, I’m afraid. Opulence and wealth are meant to represent spiritual attainment. Please, anyone with a real question?” Oh boy. I glanced at the prof, who sported a barely suppressed grin. This exchange set the tone for the rest of the question period. Needless to say, I remained fairly quiet over the remaining twenty or so minutes that it lasted. But I wasn’t prepared to go down without talking to this man again.
As the class drew to a close, I hung around the door to catch Baldy on his way out. He did so accompanied by the prof and a few stragglers. They were all chatting, fired up and super animated. I interrupted them, telling Baldy that I had some personal ties to ISKCON in that a family member whom I’d never met had been a HK since, like, forever. First, he apologized for being a little rough with me at the outset; he said he just wasn’t expecting an attack from the get go. Anyway, with a charming naïveté, I asked him if he might perhaps know my great-uncle. He politely cut me off, saying that ISKCON was a huge, worldwide organization with thousands of members, so he seriously doubted he would know. He asked me what this man’s name might be. When I told him, a huge grin split his face; he said, “you’re looking right at him… pleased to meet you!” I was flabbergasted. And delighted. So was he. We chatted for another fifteen minutes or so and then parted ways. I never saw or heard from him again.
But I had the immense pleasure of telling the tale of the unlikely encounter to Baldy’s father when I next went to visit the latter some weeks later. He was not interested and simply got up and left the room. But his wife, Baldy’s mother, was all ears. She had had no news from her son for nearly twenty-five years.
In comparison to this encounter, the documentary presented to us the following week in class was quite the anti-climax for me.
Not a super funny story but, still, sort of a strange kink in the fabric of the universe.
That is definitely an interesting set of circumstances.
Around 1999, I was preparing for a trip to the UK. This was a bit of a mission, as my core intent was to investigate severed family ties in the UK.
The night before, I watched a horror movie called “Leprechaun”…being something of a horror junkie. It had Jennifer Aniston in it, as I recall. And of course, a small person as a demonic Leprechaun. Loved it. Thought the little green guy was a hoot.
So, next day I flew to the UK. Picked up at the Airport by a cousin and taken to their home.
On arrival, we had a cup of tea and a welcoming chat. A short while later, another person arrived and I was then introduced. His name was Warwick Davis.
He played the leprechaun in the movie I’d seen the night before departure.
I was starstruck.
Demonic dwarves shouldn’t wear hats like that one.
It breaks the spell.
You don’t know whether to laugh or to continue twirling that unpopped corn kernel around your mouth with your tongue.
Cool story, though. I liked the little guy in Willow.
YOU tell him what hat to wear. He can turn you inside out with a snap of his fingers!!!
He is EVIL.
He is also the little guy in Willow.
I just had the following conversation with my girl child:
Daughter: “Mom, if I’m going to live forever, I want to go an orphanage and adopt a bunch of orphans then have a dance party and take them back the next day.”
Me: I sputtered something that resembled WTF (without the fuck) and finally landed on “Why?”
Daughter: “If you are going to live forever you might as well create a bucket list.”
I must have given her a funny look because she rolled on the floor laughing.
My husband and I just wrote a story using paint chips.
I can’t tell you what it was about but at one point there was a lady named Old Rose whose breath smelled like Oyster and Lemon Chiffon with a Mint Twist.
If ever you are insanely “bored” and surrounded by paint chips…you’re welcome.
You left out “crazy”!!
If I did that I’d never get laid
Little person in the family, 2 years old, saw a family win the $20k on Family Feud prize, he joined them jumping up and down and clapping. Then he says “Wow, what happened?”
I made my husband breakfast this morning. I think I’m missing my kids (at their grandparent’s place).
So we make it a habit of heckling those telemarketer scammer people. One called today and my husband let him know that he’s been running a lot of “poo sex” and only opens emails with poo sex in them (“it’s a personal policy” he said) which is why he didn’t get anything from them earlier.
My husband was doing great until the guy asked him if he was getting a blue screen. My husband said, “No, but I keep getting a brown screen” at which point he and I killed ourselves laughing.
I went huckleberry picking today.
It was a very fruitful trip.
Picking huckleberries is on my bucket list.