Wookie Nookie
The death of my stand-up career:
I was sitting on the couch one night, when my girlfriend turns to me.
“I’ve been thinking about this comedy thing. Its kinda like when we have sex.”
Already I don’t like where this is going. “Yeah. . . . . .”
“Well, you get all excited right before, but then it’s over in two minutes and you’ll be going to get something to eat.”
Two minutes!?? Two Minutes!?! I decide to show her right then and there that I’m a lot more man than she thinks I am. . . . . . . . . . . .
4 minutes later (never underestimate me), I’ve got the munchies.
Then she says, “Yep, just like that, the audience will fake laughter and then have to tell themselves jokes later.”
But don’t get me wrong, she wasn’t always that bad. Most of the time she was worse.
Now, I never believed in Werewolves until I started dating this girl. It just so happened that her period was at exactly the same time as the full moon. I’m not sure how common this is, but I now have some idea of where the myth came from.
I kid you not, it was like something out of an “American Werewolf”, without the cool setting. I walk in the door one evening and there is this beast with the hairiest legs I’ve ever seen, slumped on the couch.
“Hi honey, how ya doin?”
These glowing red eyes slowly turn to me out of the darkness.
“I’m cramping and bloated like a blimp, ya jackass!”
I think this thing on the couch ate my girlfriend. So, now I’m scared (though there is a mental image of her big furry body floating over the Bronco’s game).
“Well, well is, is there something I, I, I can do to help?”
She looks at me again and attacks! She’s wrapped around me making the most gawd awful noises I’ve ever heard. Then I realize she’s crying. It’s horrible. . . .
“Huh, Huh, Arrrrrrrrrggg!”
Hmm, It’s not a Werewolf, it’s a Wookie. A Wookie ate my girlfriend.
Unfortunately, I said the last out loud. I thought she was going to tear out my throat.
“Get your ass back in the car and go get me some ice cream.”
So I headed to the store for Ice cream. . . . . . . and silver bullets.
I was sitting on the couch one night, when my girlfriend turns to me.
“I’ve been thinking about this comedy thing. Its kinda like when we have sex.”
Already I don’t like where this is going. “Yeah. . . . . .”
“Well, you get all excited right before, but then it’s over in two minutes and you’ll be going to get something to eat.”
Two minutes!?? Two Minutes!?! I decide to show her right then and there that I’m a lot more man than she thinks I am. . . . . . . . . . . .
4 minutes later (never underestimate me), I’ve got the munchies.
Then she says, “Yep, just like that, the audience will fake laughter and then have to tell themselves jokes later.”
But don’t get me wrong, she wasn’t always that bad. Most of the time she was worse.
Now, I never believed in Werewolves until I started dating this girl. It just so happened that her period was at exactly the same time as the full moon. I’m not sure how common this is, but I now have some idea of where the myth came from.
I kid you not, it was like something out of an “American Werewolf”, without the cool setting. I walk in the door one evening and there is this beast with the hairiest legs I’ve ever seen, slumped on the couch.
“Hi honey, how ya doin?”
These glowing red eyes slowly turn to me out of the darkness.
“I’m cramping and bloated like a blimp, ya jackass!”
I think this thing on the couch ate my girlfriend. So, now I’m scared (though there is a mental image of her big furry body floating over the Bronco’s game).
“Well, well is, is there something I, I, I can do to help?”
She looks at me again and attacks! She’s wrapped around me making the most gawd awful noises I’ve ever heard. Then I realize she’s crying. It’s horrible. . . .
“Huh, Huh, Arrrrrrrrrggg!”
Hmm, It’s not a Werewolf, it’s a Wookie. A Wookie ate my girlfriend.
Unfortunately, I said the last out loud. I thought she was going to tear out my throat.
“Get your ass back in the car and go get me some ice cream.”
So I headed to the store for Ice cream. . . . . . . and silver bullets.
posted by -DPW at 6:14 PM
5 Comments:
So I opened my browser to dictionary.com, wanting to double-check my knowledge before making a pointless "I be edumacated" statement on the word "menstruate" (which I first had to figure out how to spell) originating from the Latin word for month, which was a period of time based off the lunar cycle and
moon -> month -> menses -> somethingorotherwerewolves
Except that I got as far as this -
[Late Latin mnstrure, mnstrut-, from Latin mnstrua, menses, from neuter pl. of mnstruus, menstrual. See menstrual.]
- and stopped.
With an amazing lack of reading comprehension, my eyes glazed over at the "neuter pl.", and I blinked in confusion.
Um...I don't get it. Menstruation? Neuter? How does the word for a cycle that relates to fertility stem from an inability to conceive?
It was inconceivable to me.
Until I reread the text another three times and realized that it was the gender of the word that was neuter and not the state of menstruating women.
Which cleared things up a whole bunch, cuz I was pretty sure that you can get pregnant while having your period.
Anyways, yeah, to get back to a topic that doesn't require me to discuss womanlyparts, I don't know whether or not there's a relationship between hair growth and the lunar cycle. Perhaps further investigation is required. "Hair-Growth: Waxing and Waning." Sounds like a good topic for a research paper.
And finally, to conclude this already-too-long response to your postt, I leave you with this South Park quote:
"I don't trust something that bleeds for five days and doesn't die."
And I misspelled "postt". You know that'd going to be eating away at my soul for a while.
And I misspelled "that'd".
So I only have one question after the educating definitions . . .Is it correct to refer to menstruating mensa members as "Bloody Brilliant"?
Since I'm being Ms. Know-it-All here, I wanted to point out that the word "mensa" means "table" in Latin.
However, since I suspect that leading a debate into the moon's influence on gorey furniture is beyond my present intellectual capacity (not being a Mensa member and all), I propose that we table that topic of discussion until we can find someone with the ability to lead it. You know, like a chairman.
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