J has a lot of

J has a lot of stories. And if you know J, you will also know what an understatement that is. He has a story about getting a job as an organ grinder outside a toy store after dreaming he would get the job; he has a story about almost dying from meningitis; he has a story about one of his residents dying of an overdose when he was an RA on duty; he has a story about tricking his youngest brother into thinking it was Christmas morning in the middle of July and getting him all riled up, only to have him fall to his knees upon seeing the empty living room and scream, “We were robbed!” I love his stories, and I love that he has such a strange repertoire of them. It makes him fabulous to bring to parties.

But every once in awhile, there will be a story that sneaks in there that is not quite a story. More like a half-story. But he’ll tell it anyway and I will be completely baffled about the mitigating circumstances surrounding the hows and whys of various parts of the story. I think part of what perplexes me about these half-stories is that he never tells them with a warning that he, in retrospect, now ALSO thinks they are strange.

The one in circulation now was brought up when we were watching the trailers for next week’s Top Model and decided that wrestler girl’s going to have a seizure during the judging.

J: I had a friend growing up who would have seizures. He’d go [twitches a little and whispers forcibly] “Whoooo haaaash… Whoooo haaaash.”
L: What do you mean, “Whoooo haaaash… Whoooo haaaash?”
J: That’s just what he’d do. He’d go “Whoooo haaaash… Whoooo haaaash,” and then turn off all the lights.
L: What? Why would he turn off all the lights?
J: [shrugs] That’s just what he did.
L: He would have a seizure and go “Whoooo haaaash… Whoooo haaaash” and then turn off all the lights.
J: Yes.
L: Nobody did anything? Weren’t you supposed to call the paramedics or something?
J: Well, I’d take out my wallet.
L: [more perplexed] For what?
J: To have handy in case I needed to stick it in his mouth to keep him from biting his tongue.
L: I don’t get it. He’d just go “Whoooo haaaash… Whoooo haaaash,” turn off all the lights, and that’s the whole story. Why did he say that? You know that Who Hash is what all the Whos in Whoville ate on Christmas morning, right?
J: Yeah, but that’s just what happened!
L: And what’s with the lights?
J: I guess the light bothered him.
L: I don’t get it.
J: There’s nothing to get.

And so on. We’ve now been going, “Whooo haaaaash” at each other all week long.

Friday Randomata

A Cool Hand Luke challenge, J style

Holy crap, Max has been trying to KILL us this entire time! I guess we should be lucky it is only mugs, jewelry boxes, and sculptures he hurls to the ground and not our handgun collection.

I'm trying hard not to believe this, but ew. Honestly.

--------