It's fun telling clueless, young, unmarried, male supervisors who want to know exactly why you're leaving early: "It's cramps." "What kind of cramps?" " Menstrual cramps." Watch the young men flee in terror from the woman old enough to be their mother.
There's a great bit in
No Touch Monkey! and Other Travel Lessons Learned Too Late:
...and is forced to explain tampons, which she admits, "might have looked like white cotton bullets lined up in their box," to soldiers in Kashmir — "They're for ladies. Bleeding ladies."
Does it smell like toast?
It, uh... smells like salty coffee?
Someone left an empty coffee pot on the burner?
It, uh... smells like salty coffee?
Hmm... Probably a massive tumor, then.
The police just called my cell phone to say that someone had called 911 from that number, and to ask if I needed any emergency response.
He and I jointly decided, after a few seconds, that someone must have written the number down wrong.
And in possibly the oddest serial post ever, you learn really weird things from British TV sometimes.
Mike the Headless Chicken
He and I jointly decided, after a few seconds, that someone must have written the number down wrong.
Maybe one of your multiple personalities made the 911 call?
Mike the Headless Chicken
I'll see your headless chicken, and raise you a beer-drinking goat
Strega, about 200 posts ago, you asked what to ASL joke on Jericho was.
She signed,
Uncle Sam's prettier.
Which one could mostly get from context, I bet, but, still.
