“You realize there are eleven men in the world who might be worthy of us; and we know none of them, right?”
Now, I ask you, what’s the very best part of that sentence? What truly makes it funny? I know that Beth, Allie, and Matt know for sure. It’s not that there are so few worthy men. It’s not the fact that we know none of them…what is it? C’mon, guess.
It’s the fact that there are eleven. Eleven is what makes that classic.
Reminds me of a conversation I had with Dr. Mary the other night regarding the fact that a great deal of the entertainment I get from life is directly related to language. We were on our way to Wandaful’s new house, and we drove past one of those miniature golf courses, with the windmills and fountains and crap. You know the ones. So anyway, when Beth and I were 14, we went on a trip to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. (A trip during which here parents showed incredible restraint by not throwing us out the window of a moving car.) At that time, there were about 278 miniature golf places like that in Myrtle Beach. (There may be either more, or less now, depending on what’s en vogue for 14-year-old kids on vacation with their parents.)
So, my point, and I do have one, is that on those mini golf courses, the fountains are full of this incredibly blue substance that appears to have a lot of the same fountain-esque properties of water, but is clearly enhanced with chemicals. When Beth first saw one of these, she said, “I don’t know what it is. But water is what it isn’t.” Which is FAR funnier than the blue “water” itself. Beth and I still say that phrase on occasion.
I relayed this story to Dr. Mary, who said, “Oh, what a language geek! And at such a young age.” And SO damn true. The language geek thing never wore off.
In college, the Ford Probe was a new model, and a fairly popular one. Beth and I decided we couldn't possibly drive it due solely to its name. Too close to alien anal probe or something.
When we were in junior high school, we used to pass each other notes with one word on them. Words that made us laugh. Here are all the ones I remember:
No, I don't know *why* they're funny. But they still make me laugh. (I know most of this is probably context and isn't really humorous to most of you.) Speaking of ode and tapeworm, Beth once wrote a poem called Ode to a Tapeworm. It was SO WRONG. And wonderful.
Matt and I were once sent into gales of uncontrolled laughter based purely on the repetition of the word "paprika" in various inflections. This has carried on for years, now. When a guaranteed laugh is needed, all you gotta do is bring out the paprika. Pap-RIIIIIII-ka!
Also, Matt and Beth and I all say "huyhnduh!!?" as a greeting. It's a smashed-together version of "how you doing" and pretty much renders us both hilarious, and sounding like we have some sort of speech difficulty.
This is kind of rambly and hormone-laden. I need vodka and vicodin. Or something. Really good sex wouldn't hurt, either.
OK, as soon as I publish this, I'll think of sixteen other words that make me laugh. (Including the ones right below this post!)