Ever get annoyed? Ever feel like someone needs to be told where the dog died? Or handed a crowbar and a tub of Elbow Grease to help them pry their head out of their arse? Congratulations--you've come to the right place.

And when I'm not commenting on the latest thing to piss me off, I'm trying to figure out my own twisted life. Because, hey, I'm like that.

On a gentler note: for anyone dealing with depression, anxiety, and other assorted bullshit: You are NOT alone.

And if you're looking for a laugh, search on the key word "fuckery." It's just my little thing (as the bishop said to the actress).

Friday, October 8, 2010

In retrospect, I may have made a mistake.

I introduced Vicki to the comedy of Jim Jefferies today.

In retrospect, this may have been a mistake. See, Vicki is a Canadian. Canadian humor is... well... punny. Yeah, that's the right word. I have heard some of the WORST, WORST effin' jokes since becoming friends with Canadians. (And I laugh at the damn things because I am a Canadian American--three great-grandparents from here, and if it had been my grandparents, I could repatriate no problem. Fucking stupid family.) There's the Lisping Midget (brilliant fuckin' joke... piss myself laughing every time), the Newfie Mountie, the Newfie Invasion, and Vicki's favorite, the Hambush.

Well, Vicki had issues with the language (it was Contraband; I can't play Region 1 dvds on the lappie because once I reset the stupid region again, it's stuck, and I have Going Postal coming from amazon.uk & am preordering Alcoholocaust for my b-day pressie to myself. Stupid technology). However... *sigh* Something stuck.

Tonight after supper we hung out, stitching, she on a commission, me on sock monkeys for the craft fair at the end of the month. No, my head is ALWAYS in the gutter. We know this. Sex is my obsession. What I had not realized was how.... errrrrmmm... phallic an unfinished sock monkey is. One of Jim's bits that Vicki heard was the one that takes place in the comedy club in South Africa.

Yeah, THAT one... the one with the infamous line, "There were now three people in the stall: me, him, and the big, black cock."

I didn't realize that the line had stuck in her head. Until, as I put the finishing touches on the first phase of the monkey I was working on, I heard the stifled snigger from across the room. I looked at the object in my hand. I put my head in my other hand, and just... just shook my head.

She dubbed the monkey-in-progress... Jim Socks.

Canadian humor at its finest.

G'night, darlings.

No comments:

Post a Comment