What is America's funniest city and how are America's funniest and unfunniest cities determined? This, dear readers, is a matter of speculation and debate. However, professor Peter McGraw and his Humor Research Lab manfully stepped into the breech, and came up with metrics including:
1. Over 900 interviews with citizens of larger cities
2. The number of comedy clubs per square mile
3. Traveling comedians' ratings of each cities' audiences in comedy clubs
4. Density of famous funny tweeters locally
5. Number of comedy radio stations available locally
6. Frequency of visits to Cheezburger and other web sites.
7. Frequency of humor-related web searches coming from each city
Obviously, this study had a built-in bias towards larger cities. I can't see Knoxville, Lexington, Asheville, or Joplin making the list. There is also a tendency to overlook small towns' places for local comedy, like cafes, gas stations, or City Hall. Besides, the first category of data collection in effect excluded mid- and smaller-sized cities from consideration.
According to the research, Chicago, Boston and Atlanta top the list of America’s funniest cities. The four largest cities on the West Coast are big on comedy and being funny. Texas, the Southwest, and Florida seem to be humor-challenged. And it's incredible that Las Vegas made the bottom ten!
What are possible developments resulting from this research? Many communities will simply go into denial, saying that they're very funny but their humor is too cerebral to be understood by clods. Others might take a bootstrap approach, requiring a mandatory humor class in school and offering tax incentives to possible comedy clubs. On the other side, some communities might consider being thought of as "funny" does not go with the corporate image they are trying to cultivate. I see Seattle as one possibility; but midwestern cities might wish to move from unrecognized to least funny. Cleveland, for example. Having to cope with Cleveland jokes for a generation will do that to some places. Some places, otherwise unsung, might hope to turn its listed in the 10 funniest cities into a tourism and economic asset. Think of what a boon that would be for Shreveport. And suddenly football teams might become more thrilled at getting an invitation to the Liberty Bowl!
The recent Republican row about which Presidential candidate has the more attractive wife could very well morph into this being a future consideration in the never ending story of political buffoonery suddenly becoming serious. Should FLOTUS have eye candy appeal? The guiding spirit of early feminism rolls over in its grave; but that's show biz for you. Politics is mostly show biz for a cheesy network.
And there's signs that this will trickle down to the state level too. I don't know about trickle down economics (like most Americans); but I think there's a trickle down effect in crassness! More than one state governor has had a de facto State Mistress. Obviously, former New York Governor Eliot Spitzer comes to mind; and some have mentioned former South Carolina, Oregon, and Illinois governors in this kind of context. And lately, it has been revealed that the Governor of Alabama has had an "inappropriate relationship with a staff member." Which leads me to wonder; how widespread is this Official State Mistress thing? And how should the electorate respond to it?
Maybe the electorate in some states might regard this as a perk in office; and even fund this position; perhaps regarding it as a positive publicity generator. Therefore, the Official State Mistress should be given a stipend, a clothing allowance, and a nice pied a terre to entertain the Governor and others as an official hostess of the state!
Obviously, if the official state image is affected by the quality of the Governor's Mistress, then possible office-holders should be vetted by a joint legislative subcommittee to advise and consent on possible candidates. After all, the state's image would suffer with an inappropriate choice! And if state funds are involved, then it is entirely appropriate to have legislative oversight! For the Official State Mistress of Alabama, for example, the committee should weigh such aspects as:
a) Is her Southern accent real, yet refined? (Not sounding hickey is important.)
b) Is she bikini-ready? (This should be evaluated every Spring.)
c) Is she for Alabama or Auburn? Preferring any other institution should be a disqualification; and no woman looks attractive in orange and white or red and silver.
d) What sort of barbecue sauce does she prefer? e) Can she make hush puppies and fried green tomatoes? f) Will she attend church services with her Executive Lover/Governor on Sunday and set a good example?
Obviously, subcommittee members would be more aware of the nuances of their weighty decision, and select an Official State Mistress who would be an asset in economic recruitment, addressing legislative committees, and being photogenic in the Governor's annual State of the State address and at Gulf Shores. Also, by having a joint legislative committee to vet possible candidates, this might prevent unfortunate choices as high end call girls, Argentine models, actresses, or television reporters. Blondes are preferred. There is no bra size requirement at the present time; but this may be revisited. Applicants may apply to the Secretary of State's Office.
Senator Howell Heflin used to represent Alabama in Washington years ago, in addition to having been a Justice on the Alabama Supreme Court. This press release was issued by then-Senator Howell Heflin's office on July 19, 1994. That morning, the Senator had been dining in the Capitol with some Alabama reporters, and suddenly felt a sniffle coming on. The reporters were astonished when the Senator reached into his pocket, pulled out a bit of fabric and began to wipe his nose with ... a pair of ladies underwear. However, the Senator handled it well. Here's a press release he issued:
STATEMENT OF SEN. HOWELL HEFLIN HANDKERCHIEF JULY 19, 1994 I mistakenly picked up a pair of my wife's white panties and put them in my pocket while I was rushing out the door to go to work. Rather than take a chance on being embarrassed again, I'm going to start buying colored handkerchiefs. GOOD SAVE, SENATOR!
One of the primary hazards of secondary education is the dreaded Required Reading assignment. (I capitalized to emphasize its importance in the category of dreads.) Why? Because books in that category are usually dreadful, at least to the typical adolescent. I know this remark will possibly might cause someone an occasion to mount her plus-size equine; but I'm taking the point of view of the typical teen. (I was one not long ago.) Consider these worthies: The Catcher in the Rye, Great Expectations, David Copperfield, Don Quijote, Billy Budd, and To Kill a Mockingbird. Only one of those is likely to be enjoyed, unless oversold like some teachers try to do. Anyway, the dreaded word aside, some teens decided to turn this to an advantage. Most of them liked to read books that were not classified as YA! So Bernice, Heather, Cynthia, Marie, and Laura talked about how to get away with it and yet read what they wanted in the comfort of their bedrooms without parental control or intervention. Bernice started off with a low-risk racy book: The Decameron. Well, it had some racy parts, kind of like The Canterbury Tales, but innocuous parts as well. As she plowed through it, Bernice took the precaution of preparing a few notes to go with what she might have been reading, leaving the good stuff off the page! She told her friends about this improvement, and they too incorporation a few dummy pages of notes to make their light reading look like they were doing serious homework. Since Bocaccio is not currently on the NY Times' Best Seller list, she got away with it! Marie always wanted to read The Trouble With Honor (by Julia London). And the title of this torrid regency romance did pass for a serious, school assignment-worthy book particularly with the accompanied notes. Heather, who took French, improved her French by reading Bonjour Tristesse. Laura read Peyton Place, explaining the assignment as one involving tracing the history of American literature. Poor Cynthia got caught by her Mama. She chose Fifty Shades of Gray to read for enjoyment, and that was going too far, even with the dummy pages of notes to make it seem legit! She failed to take into account that her mother also had the book in her bedside drawer and was familiar with the explicit content!
As I mentioned earlier, "Doo Wah Diddy Diddy" was first released by the Exciters, but Manfred Mann made it into a hit. Manfred Mann managed with other songs, like "Blinded by the Light" and "The Mighty Quinn," so this was not a fluke but having talent and riding the Zeitgeist. Well, my recent offering for Battle of the Bands (Groups) ended with a blowout: Manfred Mann was undoubtedly the winner. Here's the results: Manfred Mann: 14 "Stripes": 2 The Dolly Dots: 0 Thanks all who participated or at least looked in. I liked this song so much! I'll try more Battle of the Band songs in the future. And in the future, look into other BOTB sites:
In a major effort to attract football fans to his church in Tennessee, a minister introduced new terminology to make more comfortable the people who had been more familiar with football games than with church services. This was divine in his desire to spread the good word. Here are a few terms he introduced: Quarterback sneak: When some person slips outside for a smoke during the sermon. Halftime: The period between Sunday School and the service when some choose to leave. Draw play: What some children do with the bulletin during the sermon. Blitz: The run to the restaurants after the service. Draft choice: The decision to sit near the air conditioning vent. Blocking: Talking extensively to the pastor after the service and preventing others from leaving. Illegal motion: Leaving before the final hymn. Trap: When someone is called on to pray and he's asleep. Backfield in motion: When congregation members go to the restroom during the service. Staying in the pocket: What happens to money instead of being given in the offering. Interference: Talking during the organ prelude. Bench warmers: Those who don't pray, sing, or talk in church but only sit there. Instant Replay: The preacher reuses last week's sermon notes. Two-minute warning: The point when you realize the sermon is almost over and you gather your things to meet your children. While his intent was to use them only during football season, he revised his plan when he came up with a dearth of basketball- or baseball-related terms. And the church committee vetoed the idea of a swimsuit edition of the church bulletin, feeling that the sports metaphor should only go so far.
It's spring break time again! And you can expect the usual television news and other programs having the usual reports of crowds, drinking, and debauchery as college students avail themselves of the usual Spring migration to warmer parts of the country or the Caribbean. And there's guaranteed shots of lithe bodies, raucous parties, and mandatory censoriousness to put a fig leaf on the pandering to the possible viewers in order to squeeze more ratings for moribund news or feature programming.* Yes, this is as American as apple pie, or hot pockets that can be warmed in five minutes! The custom of spring break emerged during the 1950's; and was primarily centered around Fort Lauderdale where, with the book and movie Where the Boys Are (1958 version), it was depicted as a romantic place where husband-hunting Midwestern co-eds could snare an Ivy League mate! Well, the hoi polloi started going; and students from other institutions began to get into the act. Eventually, Fort Lauderdale passed restrictive laws regarding partying and drinking, and Fort Lauderdale declined as a spring festivities locale. ** This simply meant that other coastal areas got into the act: Panama City and South Padre Island became rowdy mainstays with time; and Caribbean beaches such as Cancun, Cozumel, and Jamaica became desirable places to go. Spring break was realized as a profitable occasion, and some communities actually published newspapers extolling the specifics of their place as a locale for a fun spring trip! Al.com recently posted scenes extolling Gulf Shores as a spring break site. Spring break became so institutionalized that universities would not dare eliminate their mid-spring break in fear of protests. At least they have a grasp of reality sometimes. Practically speaking, spring break is a godsend for many coastal communities: cheap motels are fully rented, restaurants and bars can jack up their prices, the visitors provide a cheap entertainment for locals, and all it takes is loosening up of certain rules, and hiring a few auxiliary police to look the other way strategically. Vendors can sell sun block and tanning lotions, skimpy bathing suits, and souvenirs of spring break like work shirts with the stenciled label: "Property of Panama City Beach Jail." Yes, I'm all for spring break, although I have opted for a less frantic place like Rosemary Beach. Orange Beach is pretty nice too. Remember: Sex on the beach is a name for an oversweet mixed drink, not an option for an activity.
*This is sometimes referred to as hypocrisy. **It's now mostly a cruise ship port.
Americans in Europe are often shocked by the relative publicness of eliminative activities in France and other places. I remember telling a friend about this; and she replied by referring to the night soils of bovines of the male persuasion. Anyway, here's an old pissior from the old days in Paris. It looks like a roadside shrine, to some degree. If one must void in public, do it in an elegant setting. So French!
Modern day sanisettes are more private yet claustrophobic:
In Amsterdam urination can be a very public affair:
And urinals can even be sort of an art form or vehicle for creativity:
Can you imagine what would happen if a U.S. city decided to erect pissoirs? There would be a groundswell of moral outrage at the very hint that humans are a urine-generating creature, much less that cities would condone this! And, of course, there would be the male-female vs. unisex argument that would come up. Still, some of the less well-lit streets in the French Quarter can have those smelly spots, not to mention lawns around a college campus fraternity or sorority row! At least banks, no matter how sordid they can be, are not usual places for free-lancing peeing. Unless some bankers are like boys!
Like last time, I start out the version that became a hit. I should mention that the original was done by the Exciters. This one is "Doo Wah Diddy Diddy," originally performed by Manfred Mann, named afterv the keyboardist for this five-person Brit band back in the mid-1960's:
The Dolly Dots, a Dutch girl pop group, did a cover of this same song back in 1982. They danced so well too:
And the song was featured as a marching song in the movie "Stripes," led by Bill Murray and Harold Ramis:
It would take a patient drill sergeant to put up with that! I haven't been able to find the Exciters' version, but these three are good versions of the same song in entirely different formats. Okay, please listen to each, and cast your vote as to which version is the best: 1. The Manfred Mann version ______ 2. The Dolly Dots version ______ 3. The "Stripes" version ______ Also, visit other Battle of the Band sites, enjoy the music, and cast your votes. I can assure you that this is less painful than voting in your recent primary.
Somewhat against my better judgment, I'm going political again. Two things come to mind: the report by psychologists that people are complaining of symptoms of "Trump anxiety." Now anxiety, or angst, refers to feelings about unease about some aspect of life, that might be a perceived threat. For example, I'm not very keen about bungee jumping. Does that merit me a label of "anxiety disorder" from the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual? Nope. I think that the same applies to these people. All that the psychologists are implying is that Donald Trump is a source of unease for these patients who cannot predict what the near election and its aftermath will bring. They may well be grasping reality very well. So chill, you all. There's not a likelihood of Trump anxiety disorder appearing in Diagnostic and Statistical Manual VI. Any more than earlier Diagnostic and Statistical Manuals needed Y2K Anxiety Disorder. A closely related example is that Google reported a big uptick in web searches for living in Canada or obtaining Canadian citizenship. This supposedly indicates a panic reaction to the post-election political and social climate. Actually, some people might have emigrated to Canada to avoid the draft in the 10's; but relatively few. Back in the 1860's and 1870's about 20,000 former Confederates migrated to Brazil, leading to an ethnic group around Sao Paulo referred to as the Confederados. At the time, the South's economy was gone, the infrastructure was in the toilet, and there was widespread starvation. Not to mention armed straggling goons from both sides roaming about the landscape. But I don't see large numbers of people being so disaffected now as to migrate like they did in 1865. After all, they would have to substitute hockey or soccer for football in their passions. That would be a real test for fans, especially if the Buckeyes or Tigers or Crimson Tide were in the bowls!
Dee-Doh and I had a long-standing friendship that went back to our childhood days. Anyway, sometimes when we were in the university, we would do things together. On one evening we decided to push the limits to some degree: we would go together to see a fashion show; and then later, view a strip show. Upfront disclosure: neither of us saw either type of performance, so you can say that we were both virgins. Anyway, in the accepted New Orleans custom, we summoned up a little Dutch courage by first getting some Ramos Gin Fizzes, New Orleans's official girlie drink. Then we did the fashion show. We both liked it. We both wondered why the models looked so glum. Did someone shoot their dogs? On the way to Bourbon Street, we met some friends from the university. It turned out that they were hanging out there too, and we all took in a show together. Anyway, the emcee asked if any from the audience wanted to audition; and one of our friends hopped on stage and did a partial strip, down to her undies. Another one from our group matched her on the dare. Then it was, "Come on, Angel! Come on Angel! Show your stuff!" It was peer pressure time, and I was never good at resisting that. And, under duress, I stood up and unbuttoned a button. Then another. I really didn't want to do it, but . . . . Dee-Doh immediately pulled me down and told me in his no-nonsense voice, "Stop!" Thank God! Sometimes guy pals look after their girl pals and provide excuses for their not doing regretful things. He deserved an affectionate thanks later on.
First off, a couyon* is a real dumb ass in Cajun talk. Actually, it's a big stronger than that. Don't use that word in polite society in Lafayette! One of the hazards about finding out details about people is that sometimes I find much occasion to revise my opinion. No, not The Donald: I always thought he was an unsufferable bully and blowhard with the tact of a Tasmanian devil. Likewise for Hillary. She has the credibility of Brian Williams. I recently read about the young Bernie Sanders. Apparently, when he went off to Vermont in the 1960's to find his simple life** and be a revolutionary, he was just a guy who would have utterly turn me off with pat answers and overheated rhetoric had I been around back then. I suppose some people could blame it on youthful indiscretion: but he was older then than I am now. Still, he seems to be making sense. But maybe I'm being totally with a stick up you-know-where. After all, people can change, and sometimes for the better. (Being a Senator is always an iffy sign that someone has changed for the better.) Anyway, it's the all-American way of politics: to dig up dirt about candidates you're opposed to that might embarrass them a bit. Yes, term papers that they wrote, pictures of them in poor choices of swimsuits, indiscreet utterances, having tried weed but not inhaling. That was Bernie a long time ago. Time does soften things a mite. So does a simple "I changed my mind." But there is no excuse for the conduct in the exchange between Marco Rubio and Donald Trump last Thursday night. The country was forced to contemplate Mr. Trump's penis! What next? Flaunting it on nationwide television? America clicks the "off" button. My guess is that practically all people have some embarrassing items in their history that they would not want to be disclosed; but that was right now and can't be dismissed as old time showboating! Both have dropped to the lowest denominator. Maybe we should take a page from Minnesotans, who several years ago elected a former wrestler nicknamed Jesse "The Body" Ventura their Governor! Also, some citizens in Tennessee elected a former Hooters girl to the state legislature; and Louisiana elected Edwin Edwards Governor after he assessed his chances of being elected Governor "The only way I can lose this election is if I'm caught in bed with a dead girl or a live boy." He won. And his immortal quote was resurrected from time to time in editorial cartoons. However, in the time before that election, he was running against David Duke. That prompted this immortal bumper sticker:
Maybe the electoral amnesia or statute of limitations should apply to Presidential politics nowadays. Otherwise, we're going to have a hard time looking for a few good candidates. But give them a reasonable period before it applies; we don't want carte blanche for getting away with present-day idiocies. After all, Edwin Edwards was elected against his rival, David Duke; opposing a Klan leader should count for something! *Pronounced "koo-yawn." **Like Paris Hilton and Nicole Ritchie found in Arkansas.
The Tina Fey movie which opened last week uses a bit of polite scatology for the title: In the phonetic alphabet it stands for "what the fuck" which is an expression indicating total surprise. Actually, some other militarily-derived polite scatological expressions have crept into everyday usage. There's B.S., and you can figure that one out. Actually, L.S.U. awarded me a B.S. degree too. Or maybe there's a connection. Psych majors get no respect. Anyway, here's the military phonetic alphabet: A - Alpha N - November B - Bravo O - Oscar C - Charlie P - Papa D - Dog Q - Quebec E - Easy R - Romeo F - Foxtrot S - Sierra G - Golf T - Tango H - Hotel U - Uniform I - Iota V - Victor J - Juliet W - Whiskey K - Kilo X - X-ray L - Lima Y - Yankee M - Mike Z - Zulu Just to confuse people, you can use phonetic letters for other terms besides scatological ones. How about Hotel Charlie for "holy cow." We could politely express old Army acronyms: Sierra November Alpha Foxtrot Uniform Foxtrot Uniform Bravo Alpha Romeo, etc. Anyway, those acronyms were themselves ways of somewhat politely engaging in scatology. And, likewise, some new slang: Do you have a place in your heart for Sierra Lima Uniform Tango? At least this might help further correct spelling.
Let's stipulate that philosophy has painted itself into a corner, between the early 20th Century Pragmatism and the theories of Ludwig Wittgenstein. Basically, a discipline that nominally loves knowledge seemed to run out of steam with apparently all of the questions reduced to language. However, a new viewpoint called Dudeism has insidiously crept onto the stage and, paradoxically, gave a new tonic to this Love of Knowledge. What is Dudeism? It incorporates the basic tenet that life is short and complicated and no one knows what to do about it. So screw it: just don't do anything. Stop worrying about where you're going, and what you will do when you get there. Relax. Have a beer. Bowl a few games. Sometimes you make that strike or spare. Sometimes you get a 7-10 split. Sometimes your ball goes down the lane, and sometimes you bowl a gutter ball. Have another beer; and don't worry overly much about looking unfashionable in bowling shoes. Be true to yourself and others. Abide. Go with the flow. Don't give into societal or aggressive tendencies. Of course, the modern-day prophet of Dudeism is Jeff Bridges in The Big Lebowski. Historically, great dudes include Lao-zi, Epicurus, Heraclitus, Buddha, Jesus Christ, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and Mark Twain. The symbol for Dudeism is the Taoist symbol plus the three holes in a bowling ball. Some people have even adopted Dudeism as a religion; and you can get certified as a minister In The Church of the Latter Day Dude.
Anyway, Dudeists celebrate the Day of the Dude on March 6th, it's their high holy day.
If politics is the art of the possible, then this is best learned on the job by office-seekers on the local level. Right now we're in our Perpetual Presidential Primary Season; and several candidates have nary a lick of experience in government and making the possible really possible.
To do this, you have to go with a heap of give and take; as Billy Bob learned by dealing with citizens and customers in Possum Trot, MS. His compromising with the churches on the bikini barista question vaulted him into someone that people talked about him for the Town Commission after a spell, and he was elected. The key to it all is to let everyone think that they've gotten something on the deal that they can go home and show what they've gotten.
It's kind of like participation trophies for little kids. Not everyone can be Number One; but getting a little something to show the Maw-Maws and Paw-Paws and that you can put on your shelf is a really big deal.
Anyway, Billy Bob became a Commissioner and got to attend the meetings. Now it happened that the big, burning issue was whether to make Possum Trot wet or keep it dry. A devilish pairing of the local fundamentalist ministers and the bootleggers were in favor of keeping it dry; and a group of prospective alcohol vendors, Shop Local, and lazy people not inclined to drive to the nearest wet county provided the backbone of the Wets. Now the item on the agenda regarding alcohol was phrased in terms of a "keep Possum Trot dry" versus "let Possum Trot go wet." Billy Bob saw this as a choice that, no matter how it was decided, was not going to end well but would raise too many peoples' hackles a more than a mite. Sort of like proposing a leash laws for dogs.
Billy Bob privately met with the ministers and asked if they would accept half a loaf. Well, that seemed to catch hold with them, so they asked, "How?"
Billy Bob said, "Well, would you go with a toned-down measure that allowed for beer and wine if we continued to keep out the hard stuff?"
Well, the ministers were less against this; but wanted a guarantee. If they went along with this halfway measure, would it mean liquor would still stay out?
"Billy Bob said, "We won't have legal, town-sanctioned liquor, at least." A second rule of politics should be not to promise more than you can deliver.
So they gave tacit support to the watered down measure, which the Drys also went for. The Wets, surprisingly enough, went along with this compromise. It seems that people with a grain of sense would realize that they couldn't have it all. I wish the Republicans and Democrats would see it that way on the national level.
On Election Day, wide-awake venti-sized bikini barista Ellie May cast the first vote. The compromise won by a close shave. I'm more confident in the judgment of a bikini barista with a few stiff doses of caffeine than the candidates running for national office.
1. An out-of-breath 7 year-old girl ran up to her grandfather, who was tinkering in his workshop, and confronted him with the universally dreaded (by adults) question, “What is sex…?” He was surprised she’d ask such a question at her age, but thought if she’s old enough to ask, she’s old enough to get a straight answer. He wouldn’t shirk his responsibility. Steeling himself to leave nothing out, he proceeded to describe for her all the variations of human sexuality he could conjure, careful to impress upon her the joys and responsibilities of intercourse and procreation. When finally Grandpa was done pontificating, the little girl stood frozen, as though nailed to the spot, and looked at him with her mouth open, eyes wide in amazement. Seeing she was overwhelmed, he asked what caused her sudden curiosity. His granddaughter shook off her reverie and replied, “Grandma says dinner will be ready in a couple of secs.”
2. A young newlywed couple wanted to join a church. The pastor told them, "We have special requirements for new parishioners. You must abstain from having sex for two weeks." The couple agreed and came back at the end of two weeks. The pastor asked them, "Well, were you able to get through the two weeks without being intimate?" "Pastor, I'm afraid we were not able to go without sex for the two weeks," the young man replied. "What happened?" inquired the pastor. "My wife . and I were shopping together. She was reaching for a can of corn on the top shelf and dropped it. When she bent over to pick it up, we both were so overcome with lust and could not resist temptation." "You understand, of course, that this means you will not be welcome in our church," stated the pastor. "That's okay," said the young man. "We're not welcome at the grocery store anymore either."
3. Three men were in heaven discussing how they died. The first man said, "I died in a car accident." The second man said, "I died by drowning." The third man said, "I died of seenus." The first two men asked, "Do you mean sinus?" The third man said, "No, I mean SEENUS. I was out with my best friend’s wife and he seen us!"
4. Mr. Wilson wanted to have sex with a woman in his office. But she was married to someone else... One day, Mr. Wilson got so frustrated that he went up to her and said, "I'll give you $100 if you let me have sex with you." But the woman said, "NO." Mr. Wilson said, "I'll be fast. I'll throw the money on the floor, you bend down, and I'll be finished by the time you pick it up." She thought for a moment and said that she would have to consult her boyfriend... So she called her boyfriend and told him the story. Her boyfriend says, "Ask him for $200, pick up the money very fast, he won't even be able to get his pants down." So she agreed and accepted the proposal. Half an hour went by, and the boyfriend waited for his girlfriend to call. Finally, after 45 minutes, the boyfriend called her and asked what happened. She responded, "The bastard used coins!"
5. The parents of an inquisitive eight year old wanted to have an afternoon for some shared intimacies, but their daughter Sara was always present and very impressionable, so they didn't want her to know what they were up to. Finally, they thought of a solution: they would pay her to spend an hour on the porch. So the mother asked Sara, "Would you like to play the game of news reporter?" Sara seemed interested. "Here's what you do: Just sit on a chair on the porch with Bun-Bun overlooking the neighborhood, and write down everything that went on. And I'll give you $5 afterward. Sara liked that idea, and took her place on the porch. And the parents took theirs in their bedroom. All seemed to go well, and Sara's parents gave her the $5 bill and asked her what was going on.
Sara said, "Mrs. Bourgeois backed her car into a garbage can. Two dogs had a serious dogfight. A police car went down the street with the siren on. Billy came by to see Heather again. And the Thomases had sex this afternoon. Sara's parents were was shocked, and curious. "How do you know THAT?" Sara answered, "Oh, they made their daughter Rose sit out on her porch too."
My name is Angélique (or Angel). I'm a Cajun native of New Orleans, LA. I'm a
blonde in my late '20's. I'm married and full-time stay at home mommy of a daughter. Politically, I'm independent, with contrarian leanings.
I still have some traces of my Cajun/Yat accent despite having been in the groves of academe.
I hope you won't mind my odd sense of humor.