BudreauReye
Veteran
- Joined
- Nov 17, 2013
- Messages
- 1,723
OKAY! Joewa! Since streettopeschel and Johnstark23 have properly put you in your place, I want to sincerely apologize for my overreaction in my two posts above. There is no way you could know this, but menopause is not a happy subject in my house. My wife had to have a hysterectomy at age thirty four. Hormone replacement was a real bear for about fifteen years and they could never seem to get it right. Then she found out that the hormones that they were giving were made from horse piss and had what we thought was a too high of an incidence of cancer associated with it. She went off of hormone replacement for a number of years that were further misery until she found a doctor who would prescribe plant based compounds from a compounding pharmacy. The new treatment works very well, but for years there it was really hell - and that is from my perspective, so you can imagine what it was like for her.
With regards to your post, personally, I probably would not have posted that, but you know what, I will be the first to defend anybody's right to make a humorous statement that some might consider pushes the edge a little bit. After all, a large part of this forum is humor based. I think that sometimes the best humor is edgy humor, and if we do not push the edge a little bit, how will we truly know what is funny? Also, I truly believe that one should not take one's self too seriously, and furthermore that one should, if at all possible, render their japes at theirownselves in order to help keep the game fair. In the first case, I am afraid that I failed miserably last evening. In order to make amends for that, let me attempt the latter by telling a story on myownself that really is true ...
My wife and I got married in New York City, or rather I should say in a garden just across the river in New Jersey. We flew my mother up from Sweetwater for the wedding and a few days after for sightseeing. Now, my mother was one of these little blue haired ladies that had never been outside of Texas, New Mexico, and Arkansas. She had always loved seeing movies with NYC as a backdrop and she never dreamed that she would ever get to visit there. So, after the wedding, we ensconced ourselves in a nice hotel off of Times Square and proceeded to show her the sights. One place she insisted on visiting was The Russian Tea Room. She had seen it in many a movie such as "Breakfast at Tiffanny's", and to her, well, that would just make her trip complete. It was just a short stroll from our hotel, so we made reservations and went there for dinner on our first evening.
Well, my wife and I usually prefer to go to more authentic, preferably ethnic, places rather than to what we deemed to be "tourist traps". While we were waiting to be seated, I proceeded to provide a running monologue pretending what it might be like if we were truly yokels visiting the Big Apple for the first time. Of course, in my best yokelesque voice mangling of the French language, I proceeded to pretend to massacre the menu and our order for dinner. After we were seated, we were given these huge menus that seemed to bait me to continue my previous, not really so funny, monologue.
Just then, our waiter came over and proceeded to attempt to take our order with all of the proper aggrandizements and embellishments. Just then, I could feel my mouth becoming possessed ... and despite my attempt to stifle myself, out from my mouth popped the following ..."Why yes, thank you kind Sir! I think that we shall begin with the Russian whores de vors, si voue plate ... Mercy buttercups!" Well our waiter was none too smart and I highly suspect that he was in fact quite stoned, so you could literally have counted to three before he broke his supposedly sophisticated waiter persona and looked at me as a glazed veil descended over his face, saying ... "Whut?" with the requisite upward inflection on the tail end of the confused "Whut?" Again you could have counted to three out loud ... and well ... unwittingly, my dear Mother came to the rescue. She looked up at the waiter from underneath her halo of teased blue hair, she cocked her head to one side, smiled as sweetly as could be, and she chirped merrily, "Why yeaus! That sounds so good to meee! I think I will have some of those, too!" As she then turned to both my wife and me with the most beautific smile. She was having the time of her life!
I must say that that story has been told many a time over the years ... and I must say, that I do not mind telling it on myself! Joewa, the reason that I told this story, is that I think I could read into your post, a great big grin, and the realization that maybe you ought not post this, but you damn well could not control yourself ... so there! Kind of like my possessed mouth in The Russian Tea Room. I am genuinely sorry that I let my previous memory of misery interfere with what was just intended to be good fun, even if some grumpy old curmudgeon came out and yelled at you to get off his lawn!
With regards to your post, personally, I probably would not have posted that, but you know what, I will be the first to defend anybody's right to make a humorous statement that some might consider pushes the edge a little bit. After all, a large part of this forum is humor based. I think that sometimes the best humor is edgy humor, and if we do not push the edge a little bit, how will we truly know what is funny? Also, I truly believe that one should not take one's self too seriously, and furthermore that one should, if at all possible, render their japes at theirownselves in order to help keep the game fair. In the first case, I am afraid that I failed miserably last evening. In order to make amends for that, let me attempt the latter by telling a story on myownself that really is true ...
My wife and I got married in New York City, or rather I should say in a garden just across the river in New Jersey. We flew my mother up from Sweetwater for the wedding and a few days after for sightseeing. Now, my mother was one of these little blue haired ladies that had never been outside of Texas, New Mexico, and Arkansas. She had always loved seeing movies with NYC as a backdrop and she never dreamed that she would ever get to visit there. So, after the wedding, we ensconced ourselves in a nice hotel off of Times Square and proceeded to show her the sights. One place she insisted on visiting was The Russian Tea Room. She had seen it in many a movie such as "Breakfast at Tiffanny's", and to her, well, that would just make her trip complete. It was just a short stroll from our hotel, so we made reservations and went there for dinner on our first evening.
Well, my wife and I usually prefer to go to more authentic, preferably ethnic, places rather than to what we deemed to be "tourist traps". While we were waiting to be seated, I proceeded to provide a running monologue pretending what it might be like if we were truly yokels visiting the Big Apple for the first time. Of course, in my best yokelesque voice mangling of the French language, I proceeded to pretend to massacre the menu and our order for dinner. After we were seated, we were given these huge menus that seemed to bait me to continue my previous, not really so funny, monologue.
Just then, our waiter came over and proceeded to attempt to take our order with all of the proper aggrandizements and embellishments. Just then, I could feel my mouth becoming possessed ... and despite my attempt to stifle myself, out from my mouth popped the following ..."Why yes, thank you kind Sir! I think that we shall begin with the Russian whores de vors, si voue plate ... Mercy buttercups!" Well our waiter was none too smart and I highly suspect that he was in fact quite stoned, so you could literally have counted to three before he broke his supposedly sophisticated waiter persona and looked at me as a glazed veil descended over his face, saying ... "Whut?" with the requisite upward inflection on the tail end of the confused "Whut?" Again you could have counted to three out loud ... and well ... unwittingly, my dear Mother came to the rescue. She looked up at the waiter from underneath her halo of teased blue hair, she cocked her head to one side, smiled as sweetly as could be, and she chirped merrily, "Why yeaus! That sounds so good to meee! I think I will have some of those, too!" As she then turned to both my wife and me with the most beautific smile. She was having the time of her life!
I must say that that story has been told many a time over the years ... and I must say, that I do not mind telling it on myself! Joewa, the reason that I told this story, is that I think I could read into your post, a great big grin, and the realization that maybe you ought not post this, but you damn well could not control yourself ... so there! Kind of like my possessed mouth in The Russian Tea Room. I am genuinely sorry that I let my previous memory of misery interfere with what was just intended to be good fun, even if some grumpy old curmudgeon came out and yelled at you to get off his lawn!
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