today we salute you: mr. foot in the mouth
on tuesday night, in the cozy confines of the brewers’ dugout, i asked our fifty year old assistant coach if the twenty-something girl bringing him updates on the sox-yankees game was his daughter. after he turned two shades of red he smirked and said “actually, she’s my girlfriend.” after i apologized for my oversight he quickly said, “that’s okay. you’re from the midwest and unaccustomed to such twists.”
ugh. i hate having foot for dinner.
this encounter reminded me of the time my friend clark, who had come out of the closet to me only days before, came into my dorm room wearing a somewhat muted but still unmistakable hawaiian shirt. as soon as my roommate kurt took one look at clark he said, “clark, don’t take this the wrong way, but the only people who can pull off hawaiian shirts are fat guys and flaming homosexuals.”
good times.
has your foot provided you with any memorable meals? if so, spill.
Dwight’s Top Ten Books of 2024
4 days ago
4 comments:
Sometime in my youth I learned not to ask fat women about their pregnancy. In fact, never bring up the subject even when blaringly obvious. Let her bring it up.
And damn...I didn't know that rule about hawaiian shirts. I love them.
Jeff,
He totally deserved that for dating a woman young enough to be his daughter. Shame on both of them! As for the pregnant woman part, hopefully any man reading this blog will already know better.
Uh, ali? Case for your eating of your foot...
I happen to know two great people who are hugely age-opposed and they are very happy together. Besides, my parents were fifteen years apart-my mother was 19 when my father was 34, and my half sister fifteen years older than myself. What is the acceptable age difference?
As for the pregnant woman part, hopefully any man reading this blog will already know better.
Well...I was like 17 or 18. You know, young & naive. Live and learn.
But with your posted reasoning: any pregnant-looking woman deserves it. Shame on her.
(insert sarcastic winky face here)
Post a Comment