True story:
Gus and I stand at the entrance of the Indiana University Bookstore, where we must find a temporary locker for our bags. The locker require money.
Gus: I need a quarter. Do you have a quarter?
Me: No, but I’ve got a dollar. Will that help?
Gus: Not unless it’s shaped like a quarter.
“I’d forget about the whole fam damily.”
“That’s one mell of a hess!”
From Adam Gopnik’s "The In-Law", a profile of Willie Nelson in The New Yorker (7 October 2002):
"I love Michael J. Fox," one says. "I was upset when he left the show because of that sad illness of his." (Willie’s family really talks that way: Willie, on being asked about Kris Kristofferson’s remark that he is the greatest songwriter since Stephen Foster, says to a radio interviewer, "I think Kris was offering something a shade too strong with that proposition you quoted.") …
[Two of Willie’s roadies, talking:] "Well, they say he’s got perfect pitch." "Yeah, well, you know what they say about perfect pitch. It’s when you throw a banjo into a trash can and hit an accordion." …
"I don’t get drunk as much anymore because I don’t have as much to get drunk about," [Willie] admits. …
[Willie Nelson] is no longer the outlaw of American music. He is its in-law, peering jovially over everyone’s shoulder at the wedding and saying, "Welcome. I can sing you, too." Nonetheless, he preserves his place as a radical, and outsider Like all great intuitive American performers (Ronald Reagan and Bruce Springsteen, for instance), he gestures toward the edge while occupying the center, thereby’ pleasing the fringe and reassuring the middle. (Less shrewd performers, like Bill Clinton and Garth Brooks, gesture toward the middle and then occupy it, earning the numbed assent of the center and the rage of the edges.) Willie’s voice pulls the edge and the center taut.
I had a guest in my class, talking about how she tries to have as many co-workers as possible work on her organization’s web site, "so I’m not bearing the grunt of all the work".
Joe Freeman & I were at a party at Jans & Sarah’s. He announced to me that his company had just decided on a new name: Iron Jelly.
"Why that name?" I asked.
Joe explained, "Well, I was looking through a list of words, and I went down the list until I saw two next to each other that I liked: ‘iron jelly’."
"It’s a good thing you didn’t go down a bit further, to ‘vaginal warts’," I said.
Joe didn’t know what to say.
11 July 2003:
David: “That tree is really dropping a lot of apples.”
Denise (helpfully): “It’s an apple tree!”ÂÂ
Me: “Denise, it’s like you’ve pushed a snowball down a steep hill, and it’s rolling and rolling, getting bigger and bigger …”
Denise: “… and now I’ve created a firestorm!”
Denise about someone else: “She’s really cutting off her hand to spite her face!”
So Jans & I are talking at the Broadway Oyster Bar last night, and all of a sudden Jans says, “Have you ever noticed how many diseases and other medical terms would make great band names? Like The Multiple Lacerations. Or The Compound Fractures.”
“You’re right!” I replied. “How about The Bleeding Ulcers? And The GI Tracts!”
Got any other ideas?
So we’re sitting at the CWELUG meeting, talking, and someone talks about fathoms, which leads to cubits, which leads to hands, which leads to stone. Someone says, “What’s your weight in stone?” I say, “I measure my weight in boulders.”
Warning: this will mean nothing unless you know the two parties involved.
David H. was drunk and for some reason we asked him if he found Jans attractive. His reply:
No! He’s Scottish! And brutish! I feel like he’d take over my country and invade my netherlands!