Wednesday, November 25, 2009

She said umm...

In my last post I borrowed a joke written by my brother Dave that went something like:


I whipped out my tikka masala, and to her surprise
It was every bit as hot as her vindaloo


Like Superman and Batman, every joke has an origin story and this one was conceived in a canoe on a lake in Connecticut.


Dave and I were fishing as the sun began to set behind a million dollar lakeside home. As long time readers of this blog know, I only fish with a hula popper because if I was a fish I would be unable to resist a frog in a skirt. My brother was using a real lure and was actually catching fish.


When me and Dave are together, the jokes fly and loud, obnoxious laughter fills the air. It's like a writer's room. No boundaries, no shame, no joke too rancid. And like a good writer's room, we are both willing to let loose with 30 bombs in a row in the hope that the 31st is a winner. Dave must have killed because I laughed so hard that I tipped the canoe.


Me and Dave are city boys that swim worse than we fish so a rocking canoe is a precarious perch. So, I decided to give the canoe a good shake everytime the lucky bastard landed another fish. This gave me a great idea for a bit, or a youtube video or an actual porn site.



Hold on to your paddles, boys!!! Here comes the Bang Canoe. The premise? Two losers decide to create a website but all the good vehicles are taken. Bang Bus? Been done. Minivan Soccer Moms? Been there. Bang Boat? Cabin cruiser, Miami, scorching mamacitas, old in 1998. Car backseats? So boring that even I have done it.


So the two loser guys come up with Bang Canoe. A canoe has so many advantages, its novel, its cheap, its outdoors, its OUTRAGEOUS!!! Of course the two guys have never actually been in a canoe and soon find out that the required positions and rythmic pounding are really hard to achieve in a canoe. HILARIOUS! (If you agree, call my agent.)

That's when a woman in a beautiful sari walked out on to the deck of her house and looked out across the lake. It may have been the soft light of the fading sun. It may have been that she was close enough to see but not so close that you could really see. It may have been the look of longing in her deep, brown eyes. Or it may have been the beer, but she looked just like this:



It only lasted a moment but her gaze fell upon the two half jews in the canoe and she smiled. Then her husband came out to check on the grill with a kid right behind him. The woman sighed and disappeared into the bright yellow light of her house.

Talk of fish and canoes turned to talk of women -- exotic, unattainable women and then I open with the classic, although club-worn:

She wants me.

My brother starts riffing, and I riff back and he ends up at the old Blues Brothers song that I'm sure they stole from some poor, incredibly talented, incredibly old, black guy. If you're a serious student of comedy, you know it goes something like this:

I said woman, you going to walk a mile for a camel
Or are you going to make like Mr. Chesterfield and satisfy?
She said that all depends on what you're packing
Regular or kingsize?
Then she pulled out my Jim Beam, and to her surprise
It was every bit as hard as my Canadian Club
I said what now you got to say baby?
She said umm...

So Dave starts with:


I opened up her aloo ghobi, and to my surprise
It was every bit as creamy as her chicken korma

I countered lamely with:

I covered her face in my kheer, and to my surprise
It curried her pakora

He smirked and responded with:

She took all of my palak paneer, and to my surprise
She let me skewer her meen moli

Definitely a step back so I tried to take advantage:

I pulled out my chipatti, and to her surprise
It was every bit as hard as her saag panir

Hard and saag makes no sense, though when you think about it, Jim Beam and Canadian Club? Did John Belushi have two dicks?

Then my brother ironed out her creases and put her to bed with:

I whipped out my tikka masala, and to her surprise
It was every bit as hot as her vindaloo.


For some reason tikki masala sounds penisy and vindaloo sounds vaginary and hot is the right adjective.

So thanks to my brother, Dave Melonosky for the help. Here he is with a prize winning yellow perch.

3 comments:

  1. Bob,

    Thanksgiving in hell is not so hot. Satan turns down the thermostat a couple of degrees!

    Once again, dead but I still have it - lol

    My mom made her famous stringbean casserole using Campbell's cream of mushroom soup and those fried onions you get in a can. Not nearly as good as the memory.

    Howabout?

    She pulled a roti out of her tandori oven and to my surprise,
    There was room for four skewers of chicken and a whole bunch of naans.

    Bill

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  2. Bill,

    Happy belated Thanksgiving!

    Thanks for the comment!

    Bob

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  3. That is a huge fish the one on the picture of course, I love fishing, I used to go with my dad and my grandpa almost every weekend.

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