I may be the "nonpregnant woman" Gene was referring to: When I was working on a weekend afternoon in the Post newsroom, wearing a T-shirt and shorts, a male co-worker approached me and enthused, "Oh, I hadn't realized you were pregnant!"
I'm a short, not very heavy woman with narrow hips, and so my body fat tends to position itself on my belly, like a little basketball. And so when I explained to the guy that I wasn't pregnant, he wouldn't take no for an answer: He pointed at my midsection and gotcha-asked me, "Then what is THAT?" I said, "You know, you're embarrassing both of us here."
The man, let's say, probably wasn't too familiar with women's bodies. And on top of that, his previous job had been with a fashion magazine. No basketball-bellies in those photos.
I have had it be weird the other way. I was hugely pregnant looking at some queen size panty hose at Penney’s and the clerk approached me (remember when they used to do that?) and very shyly asked if I was pregnant. I refrained from saying, “God I hope so” and she showed me the maternity hose. I guess it was good training not to assume, but it still felt awkward.
Now that I think about it, it might have been better if I said that and we both had laughed. That may the only time I thought of the right thing to say on the spot but didn’t
Likewise I applaud your discretion in not relating something similar about your partner in rhyme. While it may be apocryphal, understand it had something to do with hiding a basketball.
OMG Madrid. On our honeymoon in 1987, we were enjoying a picnic in Retiro Park when two young random guys approached us and one pulled out a knife. Having been relieved of our cash, camera, and (sadly ) wedding rings, we set about to file a police report. My high school Spanish was just good enough to explain, to any passers-by listening, “We have robbed! We have robbed!”
Likely this is not news to many, but we just found a show called "The Repair Shop" that is the perfect answer to all the rest that is news on cable television. Great skills and talent used for small moments or interaction that can save the world if we ever get enough. Modest talented people "fix" broken treasures - even clocks. And Gene ought to like that part.
I once met a person who worked at the Smithsonian and his job was to fix things and to make things for their displays and he was a "Jack of many skills." I suspect he is now retired. But if not, likely fired. In my opinion, he was a true artist.
As might be expected, using the wrong word or phrase in a foreign (to you) language has a formal designation in lingustics. It's called an L2 mistake which is exceptionally straightforward for lingustics, where mistakes are usually defined in sentences. Although phone translation apps have reduced the occurrence, there apparently will always be English-speaking tourists who believe speaking English loudly, and perhaps in a Pepé Le Pew accent, will cause a Parisian especially to suddenly figure out what they're asking. Speaking of Parisians, it would do well to understand that their general view of the rest of France is, "those people out there (Gallic hand wave) who also speak French, but badly." Anyway, as you might also have expected, since the French have a word for absolutely everything, they also have a word for trying to speak or sing in a language one doesn't know very well. In other words, faking it. It's "yaourter," literally "to yogurt." The only relation to its namesake dairy product however being a kind of onomatopoetic reference to vocalizing with a mouthful of yaourt.
I was too slow to get in on the"blurt" stories, so I'll put it here. I was a young man traveling with my parents, Jerry and Myriam, and my uncle Mort on a tour of France, where my mother was born (she left as a refugee at age 3 so doesn't really speak any French). We got separated from my uncle in a small town and got a little worried, so we walked up and down the streets calling out his name... until the penny dropped, we stared at each other, mortified, and we switched to a childhood nickname of his instead.
Regarding the stranger with the flowers: I’ve cried in front of a stranger when I was grieving and it was the best way to cry. I could get my cry out and not have to worry about seeing the person again.
It feels strange to see a set of these photos and an actually be able to explain one of them. (E is someone cosplaying as the title character from the manga/anime Chainsaw Man.)
I may be the "nonpregnant woman" Gene was referring to: When I was working on a weekend afternoon in the Post newsroom, wearing a T-shirt and shorts, a male co-worker approached me and enthused, "Oh, I hadn't realized you were pregnant!"
I'm a short, not very heavy woman with narrow hips, and so my body fat tends to position itself on my belly, like a little basketball. And so when I explained to the guy that I wasn't pregnant, he wouldn't take no for an answer: He pointed at my midsection and gotcha-asked me, "Then what is THAT?" I said, "You know, you're embarrassing both of us here."
The man, let's say, probably wasn't too familiar with women's bodies. And on top of that, his previous job had been with a fashion magazine. No basketball-bellies in those photos.
You were, indeed, the lady I was referring to, gallantly anonymously.
I have had it be weird the other way. I was hugely pregnant looking at some queen size panty hose at Penney’s and the clerk approached me (remember when they used to do that?) and very shyly asked if I was pregnant. I refrained from saying, “God I hope so” and she showed me the maternity hose. I guess it was good training not to assume, but it still felt awkward.
But "God, I hope so" is such a great response!
Now that I think about it, it might have been better if I said that and we both had laughed. That may the only time I thought of the right thing to say on the spot but didn’t
The idea that a man would assume a petite, fit woman who regularly goes on 30 mile hikes is pregnant makes me ashamed to be male.
Likewise I applaud your discretion in not relating something similar about your partner in rhyme. While it may be apocryphal, understand it had something to do with hiding a basketball.
I thought these two (helpfully paired in the list) were extremely clever, if not exactly thigh-slapping.
Some random guy: John Q. Public. Jeff Bezos’s yacht’s tenth bathroom: No public john queue. (Chris Doyle)
Some random guy might be down and out, but a dead and plucked duck is definitely out of down. (Matt Monitto, Bristol, Conn.)
OMG Madrid. On our honeymoon in 1987, we were enjoying a picnic in Retiro Park when two young random guys approached us and one pulled out a knife. Having been relieved of our cash, camera, and (sadly ) wedding rings, we set about to file a police report. My high school Spanish was just good enough to explain, to any passers-by listening, “We have robbed! We have robbed!”
Hahahaha!
I'm sorry for your loss!
Jesse Frankovich's reference to Frosty the Snowman tickled my funny bone.
I am a female and was sure that tumescence is where that story was headed. So to speak.
Same. It's the first thing that popped into my head when I read the story. Gene, out of curiosity why do you think us females wouldn't think of this?
How could it not be in that story? 😆
I wondered if he was tempted to motorboat the nurse's boobs.
Now that maybe only a guy thinks of
This guy hadn't until just now.
Bbbbbbbbbbbbbbt. (Sorry in advance!)
My favorites are Secret Service code names, small hands, and if you don't get it
Likely this is not news to many, but we just found a show called "The Repair Shop" that is the perfect answer to all the rest that is news on cable television. Great skills and talent used for small moments or interaction that can save the world if we ever get enough. Modest talented people "fix" broken treasures - even clocks. And Gene ought to like that part.
I once met a person who worked at the Smithsonian and his job was to fix things and to make things for their displays and he was a "Jack of many skills." I suspect he is now retired. But if not, likely fired. In my opinion, he was a true artist.
As might be expected, using the wrong word or phrase in a foreign (to you) language has a formal designation in lingustics. It's called an L2 mistake which is exceptionally straightforward for lingustics, where mistakes are usually defined in sentences. Although phone translation apps have reduced the occurrence, there apparently will always be English-speaking tourists who believe speaking English loudly, and perhaps in a Pepé Le Pew accent, will cause a Parisian especially to suddenly figure out what they're asking. Speaking of Parisians, it would do well to understand that their general view of the rest of France is, "those people out there (Gallic hand wave) who also speak French, but badly." Anyway, as you might also have expected, since the French have a word for absolutely everything, they also have a word for trying to speak or sing in a language one doesn't know very well. In other words, faking it. It's "yaourter," literally "to yogurt." The only relation to its namesake dairy product however being a kind of onomatopoetic reference to vocalizing with a mouthful of yaourt.
yaourt/yaourter
"Yaouter" made me chortle. Reminds me of Joe Pesci’s “da two youts”.
Question for you—can yoopers be yaouters?
Yep, or is it yoop?
Until today, I was able to repress the memory of my grandmother loudly exclaiming, "Oh, look at the cute little pickaninny!" while in a supermarket.
Don't go to Northern New Jersey, where Picatinny Arsenal is a place.
The hotdogs photo - in 20222 Mustard ended up with a 75 game losing streak. He was sent down to minors for a stint. I blame Ketchup, he cheats.
20222? Are you from the future? Tell me, has Cleveland won a World Series yet?
My wife and I are convinced that Abe Lincoln cheats in the Nats' Presidents Races.
I was too slow to get in on the"blurt" stories, so I'll put it here. I was a young man traveling with my parents, Jerry and Myriam, and my uncle Mort on a tour of France, where my mother was born (she left as a refugee at age 3 so doesn't really speak any French). We got separated from my uncle in a small town and got a little worried, so we walked up and down the streets calling out his name... until the penny dropped, we stared at each other, mortified, and we switched to a childhood nickname of his instead.
Kosher hot dogs are the worst? No, vegan hot dogs are the worst! Hands down...yuck...
Regarding the stranger with the flowers: I’ve cried in front of a stranger when I was grieving and it was the best way to cry. I could get my cry out and not have to worry about seeing the person again.
It feels strange to see a set of these photos and an actually be able to explain one of them. (E is someone cosplaying as the title character from the manga/anime Chainsaw Man.)
My favorites are "corncob pipe and button nose," and "stayed off the sofa."
“No candidate for any office can hope to get elected in this country without being photographed eating a hot dog.” --- Nelson Rockefeller