The Joy of Tormenting Loved Ones
The journey down the aisle seems to be a perilous one. Though so many seem to embark upon this quest to find the right one (sic) and get married there are many dangers facing the couple. Financial difficulties will undoubtedly be a cause of some friction when wedding invites and the cake costs more than the car the couple own. I have been told that stocking up on candles are a good idea as they are a) romantic and b) a source of light when the electricity companies shut down the power to the house.
The other hazards come in the forms of their mutual friends who are bitterly divorced or stubbornly single. Like Satan in various guises these "friends" will try to discourage the couple from getting together by showing things like how much the alimony costs per month (from the divorcees) and photos of wild sex romps involving trapeze artists (from the single people). Even the wizened old priest- pious souls who dedicate their lives to studying scriptures and fondling altar boys- ask on the actual wedding day the question to the bride , 'Do you really, really want to marry this guy?' But if the love is strong and the couple are willing they will avoid these warnings that are lobbed at them like hand grenades and get hitched.
I think E.E., my friend Free Beer's wife, sometimes regrets her decision. Its not that he whips her with a belt or cuts up postmen and keeps them in the freezer or even watches videos where women have sex with Alsatians..its just that he's...so annoying.
Who else would turn off every light in the house and wait patiently in the darkness for fifteen minutes just so that when his wife comes home he can scare the living crap out of her? Or when she has just finished a really hard day at work and wants nothing more than just to vent her frustration he replies, 'You think you've had a hard day? I've been working my ass off levelling up my character (he is playing Lord of the Rings online for about a month) and then, today, I get killed by a band of frickin' orcs! Tell me I'm not going to cry myself to sleep tonight.'
Lately we have gotten into the habit of calling her Freddy Nunchucks. This name is a combination of Free Beer's porn name Freddy Alphington (for those who don't know how you get your porn name it is the name of your pet and your first street name put together. Mine is Cappuccino Johnson. I imagine a pimp-like guy with an afro and gold chains. Who solves mysteries) and a mispronunciation of her maiden name. So now, not only does E.E. have to put up with infantile conversations about a digital world of elves and dragons, she has to put up with us introducing her to people as Freddy Nunchucks. Which she absolutely hates.
Free Beer will say, 'How do you do? This is my wife Freddy Nunchucks.' And she will reply, 'That's not my name!' I interject, 'Sure it is...Freddy.' at which point she will turn at me furiously and say, 'Stop calling me that!'
'Why Freddy Nunchucks?'
'Yeah, why?'
'Why do you have to be like this Chris?' (She insists on calling Free Beer 'Chris' for some reason.)
We're such jerks.
The other hazards come in the forms of their mutual friends who are bitterly divorced or stubbornly single. Like Satan in various guises these "friends" will try to discourage the couple from getting together by showing things like how much the alimony costs per month (from the divorcees) and photos of wild sex romps involving trapeze artists (from the single people). Even the wizened old priest- pious souls who dedicate their lives to studying scriptures and fondling altar boys- ask on the actual wedding day the question to the bride , 'Do you really, really want to marry this guy?' But if the love is strong and the couple are willing they will avoid these warnings that are lobbed at them like hand grenades and get hitched.
I think E.E., my friend Free Beer's wife, sometimes regrets her decision. Its not that he whips her with a belt or cuts up postmen and keeps them in the freezer or even watches videos where women have sex with Alsatians..its just that he's...so annoying.
Who else would turn off every light in the house and wait patiently in the darkness for fifteen minutes just so that when his wife comes home he can scare the living crap out of her? Or when she has just finished a really hard day at work and wants nothing more than just to vent her frustration he replies, 'You think you've had a hard day? I've been working my ass off levelling up my character (he is playing Lord of the Rings online for about a month) and then, today, I get killed by a band of frickin' orcs! Tell me I'm not going to cry myself to sleep tonight.'
Lately we have gotten into the habit of calling her Freddy Nunchucks. This name is a combination of Free Beer's porn name Freddy Alphington (for those who don't know how you get your porn name it is the name of your pet and your first street name put together. Mine is Cappuccino Johnson. I imagine a pimp-like guy with an afro and gold chains. Who solves mysteries) and a mispronunciation of her maiden name. So now, not only does E.E. have to put up with infantile conversations about a digital world of elves and dragons, she has to put up with us introducing her to people as Freddy Nunchucks. Which she absolutely hates.
Free Beer will say, 'How do you do? This is my wife Freddy Nunchucks.' And she will reply, 'That's not my name!' I interject, 'Sure it is...Freddy.' at which point she will turn at me furiously and say, 'Stop calling me that!'
'Why Freddy Nunchucks?'
'Yeah, why?'
'Why do you have to be like this Chris?' (She insists on calling Free Beer 'Chris' for some reason.)
We're such jerks.
posted by Fatman | 1:53 pm
7 Comments:
My porn name is Pookie Adams. Catchy. (Technically, it should really be Pookie Humewood - but that doesn't rollll off the tongue as well.)
Look out for it on a box cover near you.
Broadzilla, that's bizarre: my porn name is Pookie Fernside. I haven't met anyone else who named their first pet Pookie. Was that after the character in the books too?
Fatty, did Free Beer do the Trans-Sib with you? I never made the connection. And if you told me, it was all the fault of the Ice Bar that I don't remember.
Pookie Adams (nee Humewood)- Well, I'm cheating a little with my "Cappuccino Johnson" as well. Technically my first pet was a lobster but I can't remember his name. I think I used to call him 'Lobster' or 'Hey you'. He wasn't a very fun pet.
The other Pookie- Free Beer did not come on the Trans-Siberian journey. However, he did turn up in Estonia because he heard the beer was cheaper there. True story. Actually, both the lobster story and Free Beer rocking up in Estonia story are absolutely true.
GG - snap! Pookie was a slightly shabby budgie and yes, named for the flying bunny character in the books. He came to a somewhat mysterious end (the budgie, that is). Poor dear.
'Lobster Johnson.' Wow, Fats - after your career in porn you could go on to be... a carny. Or a wrestler.
I beginning to understand why the thing with Kitty didn't work. E.E. should retaliate by calling you 'Cedric'.
Broadzilla- Being a comic book geek I happen to know that there is a character called 'Lobster Johnson' in Mike Mignola's Hellboy series. He is a Nazi-hating superhero from the '30s who fights the undead. Like me!
Gorilla Bananas- Say you're dating someone. You organize a hotel room so you and this someone can spend a romantic evening together. This 'someone' then calls you three hours after you are supposed to be in this hotel, drunk, because, "Mah mate jest came down fuh thuh wekkend an' I jest hadda few drinks withhim. What? Why're yew so angry alla time?" Kittie had to put up with this shit every goddamn day. That's ONE reason we broke up.
I'm just waiting for that one day when E.E. snaps, kills Free Beer and I then stores our corpses in the freezer.
And I thought my "flubber" question marked me as culturally retarded...
I'll try harder.
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