Not too long ago, I StumbledUpon the awesomeness of “What I Should Have Said”. The premise behind this site is simple. Users are encouraged to share a situation in which they neglected to come up with a witty or scathing retort, then take an opportunity to express what they should have said in the first place. A lot of the anecdotes are downright hilarious and well worth the read. If you have some free time, I recommend checking this place out.
Being a fan of Seinfeld, anything to do with second-chance-responses (SCR) makes me think of the episode where George was insulted by a co-worker for eating too many shrimp. Long after the incident occurred, George thinks of the retaliatory Jerk Store line and spends the remaining part of the show trying to use it.
“Hey George the ocean called, they’re running out of shrimp!
“Oh yeah? Well the Jerk Store called, they’re running out of YOU!”
More clever one-liners...
You guys don’t get a chance to engage me in real life conversation, so I thought I would share some phrases I frequently use. It’s not that I’m lazy when it comes to communicating, it’s just that these phrases perfectly express anything I could ever want to say. I could venture out into new territory, but what if a new phrase leaves a bad taste in my mouth? What if I deliver it wrong? What if I place the inflection on the wrong syllable? This stuff shouldn’t be taken lightly. And that’s exactly why I stick to what I know:
- “Fuck THAT shit.” - I like this one because it takes a stand, sets a boundary. It draws a line. Once you hear me utter these words, you best believe whatever it is has been effectively killed.
Time Warner: Your cable bill is due.
Me: Man, fuck THAT shit.
More servings from my dirty mouth...
So I have big breasts. It’s not unusual for people to stare and beg to rub things on them, only to leave disappointed when I refuse. As a teen, the heat missiles strapped to my chest were good for drawing the attention of seedy men. I remember how pimps used to hit on me, ensuring I would never opt for a life on the street. Nothing made the walk home from school more uncomfortable than hearing shouts of, “Damn gurl, bring those juicy D’s over to Daddy!” This of course, was cause for offense. If I were ever going to sell myself, why have a middle man? Surely I’d be better off NOT having someone beat me and take half of my money? That’s just Bad Business 101. No way those fools were gonna play me.
More about 'big ole titties'...
1985 was quite simply the most magical year I’ve ever known. I was just a small boy at the time, with already large and highly threatening testicles; but not unlike other children of lesser testicles (or even, none at all), I was completely immersed in the world of a young, yet burgeoning cable channel called Music Television—or MTV, to those in the know. This MTV was quite different then. They actually played music videos, and had people called VJs that introduced them. From what I could gather of VJs, they were mostly just wicked old people—like 22 or something—that tried to act like they knew all kinds of shit about music. Of course, people that old only listen to retarded, faggy music, so I’m sure they had kids around to tell them what was cool. As far as I was concerned, these VJs could just as easily have been replaced by drooling chimps in diapers (and they eventually would be). The music videos themselves were all that really mattered.
Read more of Mr. .45's Guest Post
I was tagged by castocreations to complete this particular meme. I’m sure since I waited so long to do it, she probably thinks I was never going to, but AH HA! I AM going to do it. I didn’t stalk her back to her blog and promise to complete it only to break my word. Now don’t get me wrong, I break my word quite often, but only when I’ve made promises to cook or clean or give blowjobs.
Now then.
One of the rules is to: Write about an incident in your life you first thought was really bad, but ended up being a blessing.
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