The Airplane Joke

My dad had this friend growing up named Jay.  When they were kids, Jay would often come over and stay for long periods of time to the point where my grandmother would say, "Jay, aren't your parents expecting you home?"  He would say, "Nah, they're fine.  They don't mind."  And then he would stay for dinner, dessert, coffee, and beyond.  Jay was a well-meaning guy, perhaps just misunderstood by his peers.  As a matter of fact, most of his friends were much older, and this is where he would learn all his jokes.

Jay had a knack for remembering and telling jokes, and he had one for just about every topic.  My dad would hear many of them through out their high school years and in their freshman year of college because Jay signed up to be roommates with my dad without asking him first.  Jay flunked out after his freshman year, but he was quickly a legend on campus, as you can well imagine.  Later on he would survive the Vietnam war as a well-decorated helicopter pilot.

Jay may have kept his buddies alive by keeping them laughing.

Every now and again I will be with my dad, and he will say "that reminds me of one of Jay's jokes . . ."  Now, when I was a kid, my father would just say that across the table to my mom who would likely groan but sometimes the two of them would laugh their heads off.  My sister and I didn't get to hear the jokes because 95% of the jokes were dirty.  This was frustrating.  I needed to hear the jokes.  I remember one called "The Airplane Joke" that even after I began to hear most of the jokes, that is one where my dad would laugh and say "No, it's too disgusting and pointless."  Naturally, that's the one I needed to hear the most.

So, since I'm pretty sure most of my readers are of age and not easily offended, I give you . . . "The Airplane Joke!"

A disenchanted salesman settled into his seat for his long flight to Newark for a boring business trip when he sees the most beautiful woman he has ever seen coming down the aisle.  He begins to get excited to see that she is slowing down and checking the seat numbers more carefully, and there was a good possibility she would be sitting next to him.  Sure enough, she was, and up close she was even more sexy and gorgeous than he could have possibly imagined.  

He knew he had to say something to her because opportunities such as this just don't come up very often.  "Off to Newark?" he asked.  

"Yup," she responded, without paying him much attention.

"Not a lot to do there, but I have been a number of times and can let you know the more tolerable hot spots."

"Thanks," she said, again without much enthusiasm and perhaps slightly annoyed.

He knew he didn't have a shot with her at this point, but he was growing infatuated with her.  Her sheer beauty was mind-blowing to him, and as hours passed, he found himself growing unable to contain himself.  He was becoming aroused and dying to touch her, but he knew that was wrong.  He had never had this type of arousal before where all common sense and any rational thought was out the window; all he could think about was her incredible hotness and a need to relieve the tension in his pants.  

Before he knew it he was touching himself discreetly, and soon that gave way to more obvious fondling of his crotch area.  Before he knew it he had unzipped his pants and was masturbating in front of all to see on the airplane!  It wasn't long at all before he finished up, screaming in ecstasy and spraying his load on the back of the seat with a lout splat. 

Tucking his thing back into his fly and learning his seat back, he lit up a cigarette (you could smoke on planes back then), blew out a big puff of smoke, and a big, satisfied grin came over his face.  

Suddenly it occurs to him that he may have made a mistake!  He turns to her and says, "Oh, forgive me, you don't mind if I smoke, do you?"

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Hope you enjoyed the joke, readers.  And Jay, if you're out there, I hope I did your joke justice.  I took a lot of artistic liberties and really had some fun with it because all I really knew was the basic concept and the punch line.  Thank you for your service.  And thanks for the jokes.  

Smoke 'em if you got 'em, everyone!  

Know Your Audience

I woke up from a nap today and checked my Facebook.  I don't recommend this practice because we're not always thinking clearly in a state such as this.  The first update I saw was from a local newspaper who was outraged that a bar, one which I have been to tons of times, posted a special on their giant sign outside the bar for everyone to see: "Remember Pearl Harbor With Bombs and Kamikazes!"  Call me a dumb ass, but my gut reaction was to laugh my ass off.  Now if you haven't already deemed me an idiot, the next thing I did was respond saying that people need to lighten up.

Then I realized that I could probably lose my job or something, so I deleted it.

It's good to have sick people around to make jokes with, and that's when it's time to do stuff like that.  When you own a business, yeah, don't make a joke like that plastered on your building.  As a matter of fact, don't say anything that anyone can ever be offended by.   However, if I were drinking in that bar (again, I have a lot), and if the bartender, knowing his audience, proposed honoring the day with those shots, I would have gladly drank them and likely paid for them.  And certainly laughed.

It's just a matter of knowing your audience.

Greetings

When I was a kid, my dad started getting these mysterious dirty greeting cards delivered in the mail.  Because they were unsigned and there was no return address, there was no way to tell who was sending them or why.  We could tell it was a male's handwriting on the envelope, but that was about it.  I don't remember how, but my dad figured out it was a good friend of his who would pick up a dirty greeting card in whatever town he was traveling to for work and send us these hilarious cards.

Even after we knew it was him, he continued to send them every now and again, still with no signature, and I would be the first to rip open the envelope to see the dirty jokes and naked people, even if they were usually cartoons - they were still naked.

It was really sad to hear that this friend died a few years back.  I wish I could have known him more as an adult because he seemed like my brand of people.  

Optimistic Prime

LSD and I went to an alumni party for the graduate school she is going to in California, and the rest of the new students they were welcoming were incoming undergraduates. I joked with her on the ride up that someone was going to think we were an undergraduate student's parents, and someone actually did ask us that. I don't think we look old enough to have an 18-year-old kid, but I was hungover and she was tired from a half-marathon. Still, that was a tactless question, and the guy with a lack of tact was my role at this function, damn it.

It was at someone's house, and they had lots of money. I'll never have a kitchen that big. Ever. There were some pretty awesome cookies with the school's mascot on them, so that was fun. Also, I started with two coke zeros, and then my mood really improved when I saw there were Heinekens in another cooler.

I met a mathematician, so I asked her if she heard the one about the constipated mathematician? You know, he worked it out with a pencil? Now, that's a disgusting joke that paints a really gross picture, but how often do I get a chance to use that joke?

We met a girl with the last name of Stream, so we'll say her name was Sandy Stream, and I told LSD on the ride home that she has a great pee-pee-porn name.

Maybe it's best for LSD's career that she get away from me for a little while . . .

On a serious note, we met a guy who seemed very sad for us that we're starting this long-distance relationship, but he seemed to like us and was optimistic, reminding us that two years when you're an adult goes by very fast. I'm trying to be optimistic too, like Optimistic Prime. I mean, I am a pretty awesome boyfriend for driving her to and from this event, and peppering conversations with uncomfortable comments. If I could turn into an 18-wheeler like Optimistic Prime, I'd drive all her stuff out there, turn into a robot for a bit, run around on the beach scaring the shit out of people, maybe even have an awesome tailgate party in the back.

Wait, what happened to the "serious note?" This will be a tough period, but she's the shit, I'm the shit, and together we're anything but shitty, so this just has to work. Thanks for reading, everyone.

A Notion as Innovative as It Is Ambitious

Today during a lunch break at work, some coworkers were talking about a big, fat woman who I thankfully have never had to work with. Not that I have nothing against overweight people, but what sounds downright brutal about this chick is that she talks about her infections (of the urinary AND yeast variety, the leather teddies her husband buys for her, and all sorts of other gross details you wouldn't want to hear from ANYONE, let alone a great, big fat lady. One coworker, who is always getting off awesome one-liners, leaned in and delivered a sound bite that made me damn near shoot root beer out my nose clear across the room, and then he immediately left to 'keep 'um wanting more.' The line was as follows:

"If you wanted to begin to figure out how to lay a woman like that you'd have to throw flour all over her and look for the wet spot."