Gene and I hate each other passionately approximately two minutes per day, every day, for various reasons. The other 1,438 minutes we are adorably fond of each other. This has been going on since Gene and I met at The Post in 1990.
Tell us about that first meeting Aunt Pat. Were you as suitably impressed with the big shot Florida Man (and discoverer of Dave Barry) as he was with himself --- or did you take a wait and see attitude until after that long, lingering first lunch, which he grudgingly paid for after a series of suggestive remarks ?
Well, his co-workers, not his staff. Some of them loved it! He also came up with, for me, My Repast and, whatever it means, A Spermy T. Not to mention simply Pat My Ers.
Sam, I thought your entry to flush a second time was the best, followed closely by Kevin Dopart's fugu chef entry, with Jesse's "Call your mother" in third place.
Of my own that got ink, my favorite concept is the internet search one, but I’ve got a nagging feeling I worded it subparly. Of others, I liked the third runner up, Roy’s about the cemetery, and Steve Smith’s from FDR. In no particular order.
Well, hello, I made it home in time to have some good laughs while you all are live. I would add to Jesse Frankovich's entry " . . . and/or your father," and a big LOL for Jesse.
Re: "wacky" - I always thought it was related to "whack" as having been whacked in the head too many times. Valuable lessons for only $5 a month.
It looks like I get another week off from the competition. I am not entering the word bank contest and don't see myself entering the chain gang contest, either. I've been historically bad at both and have decided not to put myself (or Gene and Pat) through the torture.
Real life about anxious moments: missing tail light- we got stopped because the light over the rear license plate was burned out. I didn't even know there was one but the small park between us and the Giant was known for drug sales and I'm sure the baby in the car seat made look like suspicious drug dealers. Luckily nothing on the bumper sticker was about the police. And my husband is lucky the sexy black panty I found buried in the bottom of the sheets on our bed was mine.
I am younger than Gene but I remember the New York Magazine contest. I used to read it avidly, and occasionally submitted an entry on a postcard, but never made the cut.
Numerous Invitational Losers are NY Mag veterans -- none more so than Invite GOAT Chris Doyle, who, in a ploy that Mary Ann Madden was perfectly aware of but chose to ignore, got around the one-entry-per-week rule by entering under a zillion names. Chris says his NY Mag ink outnumbers his Invitational ink -- and he has 2,634 blots with us, plus whatever he got today.
I DID make the cut a few times-- and one of my winning entries appears in "Thank You for the Giant Sea Tortoise," Mary Ann Madden's 1971 compilation of NY Mag Competition Results.
Unfortunately, it was, I believe, one of my rather meh entries -- not any of the ones I was pretty proud of.
You wouldn't believe -- well, /you/ would, perhaps -- how many times I have been informed by inking entrants that I /should/ have chosen another of their entries.
>>>Men, going into a public restroom to urinate, will sometimes unbuckle their belts and unfasten >>>the button or snap on their pants as they approach the urinal.
Well, speaking only for myself here, I do that when, as is sometimes the case, my pants have a fly, but my underpants do not, and it is necessary to accommodate.
I once bought a packet of underwear without looking closely at the label, and discovered that there are some manufacturers who market fly-free underwear as being more comfortable.
Yes all of the above. It’s not our apparatuses but the two we have to get through to execute. And tension is counterproductive to having quality results. Not trying to boast, but I rarely have to in that “I have enough hose to put out the fire.”
Gene and I hate each other passionately approximately two minutes per day, every day, for various reasons. The other 1,438 minutes we are adorably fond of each other. This has been going on since Gene and I met at The Post in 1990.
Tell us about that first meeting Aunt Pat. Were you as suitably impressed with the big shot Florida Man (and discoverer of Dave Barry) as he was with himself --- or did you take a wait and see attitude until after that long, lingering first lunch, which he grudgingly paid for after a series of suggestive remarks ?
Gene once said in a chat that one of his first actions at the Post was to create anagrams for the names of his staff. Pat's was "Spry Meat."
Well, his co-workers, not his staff. Some of them loved it! He also came up with, for me, My Repast and, whatever it means, A Spermy T. Not to mention simply Pat My Ers.
That’s about as bad as “smart semen”. I won’t even mention the poor schmuck that one applies to.
Sam, I thought your entry to flush a second time was the best, followed closely by Kevin Dopart's fugu chef entry, with Jesse's "Call your mother" in third place.
Of my own that got ink, my favorite concept is the internet search one, but I’ve got a nagging feeling I worded it subparly. Of others, I liked the third runner up, Roy’s about the cemetery, and Steve Smith’s from FDR. In no particular order.
Thank you. There were a lot of good ones.
I feel like I've wandered into a recent episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm.
Pat, perhaps I can help with "A Spermy T." Often the outcome when a tube sock is not readily available.
"Next on the list, why do some men think that it is socially acceptable to rip long, loud farts at a public urinal?"
Where else would you suggest as a socially acceptable location to play a "butt trumpet"*?
*If I recall correctly, the Zulu translation of this term is "vuvuzela."
Admittedly it is more fun to slip out an SBD on a crowded subway train than to rip a loud one at the urinal.
But in the restroom, one can engage in the "barking spiders" routine.
Well, hello, I made it home in time to have some good laughs while you all are live. I would add to Jesse Frankovich's entry " . . . and/or your father," and a big LOL for Jesse.
Re: "wacky" - I always thought it was related to "whack" as having been whacked in the head too many times. Valuable lessons for only $5 a month.
KNAVES OF OUR LIVES
FADE IN
INT. OFFICE - DAY
Donnie Orangeman is staring in disbelief at an invoice for "Fraudulent Activities" from the State of New York for $464MM.
ORANGEMAN
(Moaning, head in hands)
"Whatever will I do !?" "What's to become of me !?"
SLOW ZOOM OUT
VOICE OVER
(Organ sneaks in)
"Which despot will come to Donnie Orangeman's rescue ?"
"Will a banker's box with 464 million dollars in mixed foreign currency be found in a bathroom at Mar-a-Lago ?"
"Will a giant sucking sound be heard throughout the tri-state area come Monday as state liens suddenly appear on his properties ?
Tune in next week.
CREDITS
(Organ up and out)
Both of Jon Ketzner's HMs made me laugh. A Klan rally at a Taylor Swift concert. Genius.
It looks like I get another week off from the competition. I am not entering the word bank contest and don't see myself entering the chain gang contest, either. I've been historically bad at both and have decided not to put myself (or Gene and Pat) through the torture.
Real life about anxious moments: missing tail light- we got stopped because the light over the rear license plate was burned out. I didn't even know there was one but the small park between us and the Giant was known for drug sales and I'm sure the baby in the car seat made look like suspicious drug dealers. Luckily nothing on the bumper sticker was about the police. And my husband is lucky the sexy black panty I found buried in the bottom of the sheets on our bed was mine.
but if we tell you, you;ll call us a troll. Geez.
I am younger than Gene but I remember the New York Magazine contest. I used to read it avidly, and occasionally submitted an entry on a postcard, but never made the cut.
Numerous Invitational Losers are NY Mag veterans -- none more so than Invite GOAT Chris Doyle, who, in a ploy that Mary Ann Madden was perfectly aware of but chose to ignore, got around the one-entry-per-week rule by entering under a zillion names. Chris says his NY Mag ink outnumbers his Invitational ink -- and he has 2,634 blots with us, plus whatever he got today.
I DID make the cut a few times-- and one of my winning entries appears in "Thank You for the Giant Sea Tortoise," Mary Ann Madden's 1971 compilation of NY Mag Competition Results.
Unfortunately, it was, I believe, one of my rather meh entries -- not any of the ones I was pretty proud of.
You wouldn't believe -- well, /you/ would, perhaps -- how many times I have been informed by inking entrants that I /should/ have chosen another of their entries.
Let's have a virtual show of hands from Losers who think that Pat has given Ink to their "meh" entry while ignoring their "great" entry.
<virtual hand raise>
Guilty as charged. I’ve since learned to roll with it.
Oh, I would believe...
>>>Men, going into a public restroom to urinate, will sometimes unbuckle their belts and unfasten >>>the button or snap on their pants as they approach the urinal.
Well, speaking only for myself here, I do that when, as is sometimes the case, my pants have a fly, but my underpants do not, and it is necessary to accommodate.
Thank you, Don. You have proven that in our family -- the glorious Weingarten breed -- there is no shame.
What undergarments are guys wearing without some kind of fly? Mankini bottoms? He-man stud thongs?
I once bought a packet of underwear without looking closely at the label, and discovered that there are some manufacturers who market fly-free underwear as being more comfortable.
Yes all of the above. It’s not our apparatuses but the two we have to get through to execute. And tension is counterproductive to having quality results. Not trying to boast, but I rarely have to in that “I have enough hose to put out the fire.”