.
.
*****
.
I used to be a supervisor in an office where University students were often hired for the summer. One day, a student who’d been with us only a short time came into my office, asking if it would be “cool” if she listened to her Walkman during the workday.
After contemplating it for a while, I had go back and tell her that no, it wouldn’t be cool.
I mean seriously, who listens to a walkman anymore?
-Alan B. (Submitted Jun. 2002)
*****
Overheard at a baseball game:
“I said he’s a babe, Ruth, not Babe Ruth!”
-Carl K. (Submitted Jun. 2007)
*****
While eating dinner at a fancy restaurant, Mark, a guy I’d been set up with, and I saw three police cars pull up across the street. “Gee, I wonder what happened,” I said contemplatively.
“I’m not sure,” he replied, reaching over the table and grabbing my hand. ”But while they’re at it, they should come and get you for stealing my heart.”
Without missing a beat, I replied, “So tell me, Mark, are you always such a fucking cheeseball?”
-Alyce L. (Submitted Jun. 2005)
*****
My sister-in-law, an aspiring comedienne, was staying at our house over the holidays. One night we decided to have some snacks and play a game of cards.
“Where are the crackers?” I asked, after unsuccessfully rummaging through the cupboards.
“Why don’t you check the lazy Susan?” my husband replied.
Just then, my sister-in-law Susan walked in. “I’m not lazy and I don’t have any crackers!” she said, comedienne-aspiring tongue in cheek.
- Jane M. (Submitted Apr. 2001)
Great post! The husband who made the yeast remark could easily be the fucking cheeseball after they got married, and he filled her oven with twin buns. I’m missing the horsey with the wig picture. I’m really missing it. Don’t ask why . . . it’s like a Chevy without the bowtie thingy, or Apple computers without the bitten apple, or Lindsay Lohan without a bottle. It makes me sad. I want my horsey, Bschooled. It completes me.
Thank-you Dan,
I agree, I wouldn’t be surprised if Chris J. and Mark were one in the same. (Or at least written by the same person, using a pseudonym/pseudogender.)
And to tell you the truth, I miss the horsey too. He was like a more jovial, less unsightly version of Tori Spelling.
(With any luck, he’ll be back after his stint on “Dancing With the Stars”…)
I hope I don’t run into Alan, Carl, Mark, Jane, Susan or Chris on my holiday. Alyce is welcome to join us for a drink…. see you in July Miss B
July? We aren’t going to The Big Apple yet, are we?
I haven’t secured our front row seats for the Regis and Kelly show…
Bschooled -
Welcome back to the blogging business, which will never be as respected as journalism but at least doesn’t carry the stigma of logging, a fine enterprise that now only exists to give hippies a reason to get off the couch every other Earth Day.
Now, my powers of recollection may be failing me, but I believe I was the one who delivered that “Ruth/Babe Ruth” clarification, but I certainly did NOT follow it up with a drunken backhand, and anyone who claims that I did will face my backhanded wrath just as soon as I polish off this bottle.
This happened at the 1988 major league All-Star game. I had taken Ruth to the game as she had mentioned frequently (and throughout most of the first 5 innings, if I’m not mistaken) that is was her birthday and that she’d like to do something “special.”
After shooting down several options (luncheon at the Waldorf, a matinee at the Plaza, kegstands at the Delta), we agreed to disagree on our next move and since I was driving, we ended up at the stadium watching a game neither of us particularly enjoyed.
The beer was flowing freely as was Ruth’s antagonistic commentary when someone rotund approached the field to sing the national anthem. My eyesight wasn’t what it used to be (and really wasn’t much back then either, but the military didn’t care, citing their “One Eye = GI” policy) and Ruth honestly couldn’t have cared less, but as the tenor approached the microphone, I mistook him momentarily for Carlson Montgomery Babe, an old college buddy and mostly unemployed singer.
I mentioned this as he got underway, strangling several notes before approaching something resembling an irate argument between a bagpipe, a cat in heat and an airstrike warning. I heard (or so I thought) Ruth say that he resembled one of the Welshmen she had once dated and that his voice was causing her fillings to act as an oral tuning fork.
I pointed out that he was a Babe and therefore was most likely Bohemian like the rest of his hated people, with whom I had spent altogether too much time and money attempting to buy my hubcaps back.
That’s when she said, “Babe Ruth?” Needless to say, I was shocked. Could she really believe that the zombified body of baseball’s greatest slugger had been reanimated solely for the purpose of destroying the National Anthem, the higher registers of our remaining hearing and what was left of our faith in humanity?
I set her straight, filling the sudden silence left by the blown out speakers with my outraged explanation and alleged backhand. Well, that kind of put a damper on our afternoon. She spent the rest of the afternoon holding various iced beverages against her stinging cheek while I spent several hours under the impression that I was actually at the Kentucky Derby and ordered Mint Julep after Mint Julep from the confused concessionaires. (I think it was the smell of budget hotdogs in the air that threw me, as I assumed the odor to be the byproduct of the ceremonial roasting of the horses that failed to finish “in the money.”)
I think we all learned a lot that day. Ruth learned a thing or two about dead baseball icons and I learned a thing or two about writing bad punchlines (no pun intended, it was open-palmed).
Thanks again for giving me the reason and space to ramble on, bschooled. I’m breathlessly awaiting the next installment and an upgraded ventilator.
Sincerely,
C.L. Tanager
Clifton,
Thank-you for the thoughtful and overly eco-friendly welcome. I only hope I haven’t become to rusty at the whole blogging thing, I find it’s one of those activities I need to do incessantly, just to keep my skills up to date.
You know what they say, miss an hour of blogging time and next thing you know a new theme has been added, one that’s just begging to be activated and turned into another half-assed idea that seemed plausible at the time but in hindsight seems more like just a waste of two night’s sleep.
(Or, at least that’s what I’m told they say.)
Anyway, you’ll be happy to know that your powers of recollection are not failing you, even if, at the time of this submission, your sense of humor was. All I can say is that I understand how disheartening the whole experience must have been for you. Ruth sounds like a woman who cared more about maintaining her high cheekbone structure than she did about showing some respect for a man who “made nougat edible again”.
I’m just glad you didn’t end up marrying the self-centred and mildly apathetic mumbler. One could only imagine how that would have affected your feelings toward the opposite sex.
As always, your ramblings are my pleasure, Clifton. And don’t quote me on this, but I have a feeling it will only be a matter of days before someone decides to create a blog titled, “Upgraded Ventilator”.
Your friend,
Bschooled
The trouble with Reader’s Digest is that its demographic is on hold. They’re just starting to accept the Beatles, and some cutting edge RD readers even have computers (with amber monitors; will switch to colour if it catches on). If Alan B. had related a humorous anecdote about cassette players, or if Alyce had called Mark a ‘fucking Godless Communist’, maybe they would today be riding the crest of fame.
Haha! You make a great point, Cooper Green.
If only these people were a little more outdated, they’d be riding that crest of fame all the way to the Ed Sullivan Show.
Sunday at 8, but it hasn’t been on for the last few weeks or more. They must have wrapped up for the summer.
Bschool
I still here, u still funny…………still love readers digest and bookmobile……zman sends
Zman! It’s good to see you!
I’m rglad you stopped by, I’ve been missing those sends of yours.:)
Hope you’re doing well,
b:)
The ‘funniest practical jokes ever‘ pic reminds me of what happened to a friend of mine when staying with a friend of hers, who decided to ‘play a joke on her’ and sneak into the toilet after she had just been and smear Milo all over the toilet bowl before going to get her and demanding that she ‘come with him’ and explain if she always left toilets in such a state when staying at other peoples houses….She died a little on the inside before he put her out of her misery by bursting out laughing at his ‘funny’ joke….
Although if the tale were submitted to RD it would probably have to be tweaked to say; “after allowing my friend to use my toilet, which she of course flushed, I went and confronted her about the mess she left in my toilet bowl, however when we went to inspect it together and it was perfectly clean I turned and pounced at her and shouted “gotcha”! Hilarity ensued”.
What is Milo??
I would like to know as well!
It’s the name of my first cat!
HA! Hilarity ensued, indeed!
It was even more hilarity-ensuing after I Googled the Canadian translation for “Milo”. ‘Round these parts, we generally reserve that word as a potential name for our pets.
You can just imagine the look on my face when I pictured your friend, wiping the inside of a toilet bowl with the family cat.
I love your revision, Ruby. In fact, I might have to surprise you by submitting it to RD myself, and then, once it’s rejected, accepting it on my site. Or, maybe I’ll just cut out the middle man, and go straight to posting.
It always takes so long for those RD guys to get back to me, it’s like they’re on some kind of power trip.
Bschooled, Bearman and Jill,
While the image of the family cat being used to wipe the toilet bowl as a ‘practical joke’ cannot be topped, and I would love to leave it that way, I feel that it is only fair to explain that Milo, in these parts, is a chocolate powder used to make flavoured milk…(and in the interest of eliminating and other doubts I should also point out that “flavoured” – in these parts – means “flavored”)
Ha!
That’s just another thing we have in common! In my parts, flavoured” means “flavored” as well!
(Er, I probably shouldn’t have written “in my parts” , because here that means something totally different.)
I always questioned my Jewish friends if they ate “yeast” during passover.
Hahahaha!!!!
They’re probably all like, “You know, Bearman, that wasn’t a very kosher thing to say…”
Alyce…what a card! Calling her boyfriend a cheeseball!! and a fucking one at that! :-)
Hahahahhaha! Yes, Jill, she is definitely a card!
Yet oddly enough, still single…
So happy to hear you’re back and in fine form indeed, bschooled!! If I may offer a modest suggestion, perhaps you could put your blog on ‘moderation’ and allow Tanager’s comments to be posted dead last. As usual, all my creative juices evaporated after reading his lengthy and begrudgingly riveting submission (or, perhaps I should skip reading his responses entirely until after posting my own?). He is starting to remind me of the smartest kid in class who repeatedly thrusts his hand in the air to shouts of “I know the answer! I know the answer!” while panting like a rabid dog and almost popping his shoulder sleeves. You know, the kid we all wanted to pummel and beat the crap out of during recess. ‘Mr. SmartyPants’ is stealing my thunder.
Well, RubyTwoShoes did remind me of an incident in the ICU. It seems one of the patients was evacuating a great deal of sandy colored sludgy stool and his nurse was tired of cleaning up after him, day after day, hour after hour. A fellow nurse offered to give her a break and perform his ‘peri-care’. She spread peanut butter on his Chux (incontinence pad) and came out his room while dipping her finger in the PB and exclaiming “um, tastes like peanut butter!” This would be a lot funnier if 1) you were there or 2) Tanager wrote his rendition. Either way, that’s all I got.
Jesus, I had two windows open and I pasted this comment into Tanager’s “When to Get Hitched Post” and almost clicked ‘submit’. Guess who almost got virtually pummeled?
Thanks Elizabeth, it’s good to be back!
As for your suggestion re: Clifton’s comment placement, I couldn’t agree more. Not because you can’t hold your own on these threads, mind you, I think it’s safe to say that your commentary rivals the illustrious Mr. Tanager, albeit for different reasons.
Even though you both have equally fascinating stories to tell, all of your experiences have occured within the last fifty years. So while the Veterans and peyote aficionados might relate more to Clifton’s accounts, I’m guessing that the majority of Generation X and Y’ers (?) have an easier time reading your non-telegraphed mail.
(Er, whatever that means.)
Now here is where things get a little awkward. You see, after reading this latest memory of yours, I have to be honest and say that I’m now the (not-proud) owner of a soda/saliva-covered computer monitor. Congratulations, Elizabeth. In one paragraph, you have succeeded in taking my coveted RD Reject Submissions, and rendering them both inadequate and uninspiring.
I’m off to go buy some monitor cleaner now…
Like the first 15-30 minutes after a great indie film, I just want to ‘take it all in’, mentally roll it around in my mind and process the film dynamics and dialogue before going about my business. Same thing with a Tanager post. I should add that those Smartypants kids were always the ones I made a point to befriend in school.
Truth be told, I would give anything to roll around in your mind as well. (But not in a “creepy, that’s not really appropriate, B” way, more like an “I wish I could steal some of that stochastic brilliance” way).
Really, those Smartypants kids should have been befriending you!
Babe Ruth! Lol! :)
You are so completely funny. I would so love to have one of my stories published in the Reader’s Digest. Everyone I know says I should totally write a book (except for my husband Jack who says I should totally read a book, lol). I’ve been using the Secret but so far I haven’t gotten published in anything except my Church Newsletter (a “sinfully good” hot cross bun recipe and a reminder about not parking in front of the drycleaners across the street. Still, people really seemed to like them so you never know!!!!).
Lol! Thanks for the funnies! :)
SuperDuperMommy
Thanks for stopping by, SuperDuperMommy,
Your comment alone tells me you should totally write a book. Not only would your name look really good in print (“Baking Ideas and Parking Tips, by superdupermommy!”), it sounds like those hot cross buns of yours are quite the vixens!
If you need any help coming up with witty anecdotes, let me know. I just got a hilarious submission from a guy whose wife chokes on a bagel. (Now, I don’t want to give the ending away, but trust me; when the Doctor goes to unblock her trachea, hilarity ensues.
Thanks for the superdupercomment, sdm! I hope to see you again,
bschooled:)
Thanks so much for the encouragement bschooled. I used to write in high school but since Jack and the kids came along the only thing I’ve written is a grocery list (LOL!) :) Still, just from writing this comment I can see how totally quickly it all comes back!
I loooooooove the idea of a baking/parking book but I really want to write a super funny parenting book. I think there’s a huge need. Plus, my kids do the most hilarious things all the time and I’m always thinking to myself “OMG, that is so funny, I should write that down.” :)
A book is soooo much work though. I actually started working on a short story though, written entirely in emoticons. I only have the opening but here it is:
:) :( :) :)
It really needs work (and I need to learn how to make winky faces! LOL!!!) but I think it could be really funny and cute too.
Thanks again! LOL
superdupermommy
I couldn’t agree more, superdupermommy. I can’t tell you how many times I stand in the 4×4 square foot section of the bookstore reserved for non-mommies, thinking to myself, “Now why aren’t there any parenting books here? Why does this small, confined section only carry books about learning to cope with the fact that you’re in your thirties and childless? And manuals on how you can get that guy to finally notice you before you’re too old and decrepit to be seen in public?”
I think you’re on to something, sdm. Maybe just start out with a few short “Mommy-friendly” stories (you know, stories that women with barren wombs just wouldn’t be able to relate to), and see where it goes from there.
PS. Love the emoticon story already! Then again, I’m biased. (What can I say, I’ve always been a sucker for ridiculously cute animated facial expressions!)
Thirty and childless? Sounds like the horror section Lol :) I don’t know what I’d do without my babies!!!
But seriously, being barren would be too horrible. I know there was a lot of that in Bible times but I think medicine has come a long way since then. Still, so sad.
:)
Very sad, indeed.
…Xanax helps.
Miss B.superdupermommy is a cry for help, a yelp in the camping ground of transit, from bland to less, a whimper for attention, how can it be denied?, not by you, you old softy, you.
Can’t be Canadian or an Aussie, too subtle.
Where do they come from?.
Laird!
So good to see you (well, you know what I mean), my friend. You’re right, it’s safe to say that Superdupermommy will never be turned away from my blog. Not only am I a huge emoticon aficionado (the hugest! :P ), I’m also a big fan of those who love life, or, more specifically, those who love the dependant lives that were agonizingly emitted from their own (now flaccid) womb.
(I trust those last few words also answers your question re: where they come from.)
Always good to see you, Laird!
b:)
Alan B is totally rad. I mean right. I saw a guy with an IPod from like 2008 the other day. It was like almost the size of a credit card. So I called him a loser and threw rocks at his torso until he wheeled himself away in his little wheelchair. Nerd.
What does a candy bar have to do with baseball? Oh,… is it a gay thing?
I thought Mark’s line was romantic and sweet. I know I would have allowed him to Babe Ruth me all night. And what’s wrong with cheeseballs? I love cheeseballs. Do you remember Planter’s Chesseballs that came in a big, blue cylinder? OMG they were so fucking good!
Susan should have said, “I am serious and don’t call me Shirley” that line always cracks me up.
I didn’t get Chris’s joke. Where is all the yeast?
Great compilation as always B!!
OMG, I forgot all about the “serious Shirley!” joke! (Which is why I wouldn’t be surprised if it ends up on my next RD post. Not in the least.)
To tell you the truth, Scott, I don’t get Chris’s joke either. But I’m pretty sure it has something to do with Celiac disease. And if that is the case, he really needs to understand that only certain people can pull off quips about gluten sensitivities.
I mean, it’s not like a terminal illness, where you only have six months to get a lifetime full of ribbing in. Being Gluten-free means a lifetime of reading the back of cereal boxes, and watching your friends scarf down deep-dish pizzas after the bar while you’re stuck gnawing on millet rice cakes and chickpea spread after driving the drunken shitheads home.
(Or so I’ve been told.)
Thank-you for the comment-worthy comment, Scott. Even though I don’t have the answers you seek, your questions have inspired me to come up with questions of my own.
I wonder how Chris liked sleeping on the sofa?
Yay! You’re back! I needed a laugh (and I’m sorry it’s at the expense of all the poor rejected wannabe humorists) :)
Hey T!
Yes, I’m back…(kind of). My Mother is visiting for a few days, so I’m trying to keep her entertained. Fortunately, she’s a big fan of Reader’s Digest, so we usually spend hours reading and laughing at the humor section together.
Unfortunately, we’re both laughing for completely different reasons.
(It’s going to be a looong weekend.)
b:)
I’m trying to figure out if the submission people are comedians in real life and I’m not coming up with anything :-(. If anyone does get it, I may have an “aha” moment at that point LOL! I loved the lazy Susan one as I can just see that one happening IRL, very cute, indeed. I’m hoping I’m not missing something with all of this and it’s really bugging me! If no one comes up with anything, I’ll just assume everyone is as daft as I am and I’ll try to shrug it off. In the meanwhile, my skin is crawling, bschooled LOL!!
Glad to see you back, but I have to say that I am hooked on Clifton now! :-)
TSIB,
Trust me when I say that a) these people are not comedians in real life (or in cyberspace for that matter), and b) you definitely aren’t missing much. Reader’s Digest Rejected Humor Submissions are an acquired taste (mainly just acquired by yours truly).
As for Clifton, I don’t blame you in the least. In fact, I have to admit that I’m hooked on him too. His wisdom and talent for writing are unparalleled.
(Not to mention the fact that the guy really knows how to rock a trilby!)
Always good to see you, TSIB!
b:)
Bschooled,
I’m SOooo relieved that I wasn’t missing something. Thank you for your reassurances. I hate it when I think I’m missing something this trivial when I’m really not, which makes the whole thing even worse–a real spiral downward. Kind of like trying to answer Cash Cab questions and coming up with blanks, only worse, because the Cash Cab questions are actual facts with answers.
Yes, Clifton…. If he wasn’t already married to the lady with the mice, I might try to catch a few mice myself, or at least buy a house that is already infested, then have him over for dinner (as long as he didn’t talk about Korea). If you’re not sure what this is all about it’s in his “Hitched” post. Not to be confused with Hitching post. But I suppose you could catch a man/woman with a horse as well as with mice, maybe moreso. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner. We may be on to something here, bschooled!
Yes, his trilby is very nice and probably helps shield him against the mice droppings that fall from the rafters.
Thanks again, bschooled!! :-D
So
I don’t know what that extra “So” is doing at the bottom?! I must have written it or else there’s a ghost in here mocking my post reply (and a punctuation-challenged one, too). Tsk.
Haha! I think it’s safe to say that you may be on to something. I actually hadn’t thought about mice hanging out in the rafters. I guess that would make his trilby more of a practicality than a distinguished fashion statement?
Thank God I didn’t dig up my 1965 Sears catalog and order one in every color, I would have been the laughing stock of 2010!
Ah but you see, Susan was not so apt to turn the other tongued cheek when I (innocently) requested that the other dinner guests spin the lazy Susan so I could get a couple of buns. “Comedienne,” my buns.
Haha!
Well, not only did you confirm my suspicions that Susan’s sense of “haha” is mediocre at best, I now have an idea as to why your name is “An Unmarried Man”.
(I might be wrong, but I think it has something to do with your lack of fun-loving emoticons.)
Thanks for visiting, Unmarried Man.
Bschooled:)
I simply MUST get a Readers Digestion magazine! They sound so wonderful and peculiar! I have a walkman, so they must STILL be popular as im a trend setting kind of guy! LOSTL!
I missed reading you, B!
Bob
Bob!!
Where have you been? You know how worried I (always) get. I was just about to ask your friend Rick if he knew how I could get a hold of your mum. But then I got distracted by an old episode of “Candid Camera”, and the next thing you know it’s been over a month and here you are!!
You really need to quit worrying me like that.
You are definitely a trend setter, Bob. The trend-settiest, even. Really, it’s only a matter of time before those Aussies realize that cowlicks are the new black.
It’s good to see you, Bob. You look as LOSTL! as always.
b:)
Im so sorry, B!
I went to Sydney and was grounded for an entire week! it was worth it though for a jaunt across the country.
LOSTL! You’re so funny B! Everyone knows that im pretty cool. Im an actor, how could i not be! LOSTL!
Bob
I saw someone jogging the other day while holding a transistor radio up to his ear, so very 1970′s. Then I thought , maybe they are making a comeback? You know, like Liza! Anywho that’s the only fucking cheeseball story I have for now :(
You mean they aren’t making a comeback?
Well, that’s the last time I take fashion advice from the lady working at the Salvation Army thrift store…
Come by for some cheese balls and home-made hooch next Wednesday B. Mine are better than Gladys’. I use real Cheese Wiz.
Your cheese balls sound delicious GP, but unfortunately I’m lactose-intolerant. Not to mention the fact that home-made hooch makes me wake-up in random strangers’ beds, wearing nothing but a pair of crocs and strategically-placed vomit.
And let’s face it; nobody looks good in crocs.