dangerous compassions

I call you / from the comet's cradle

Monday, December 30, 2019

bee emojis ftw

If that's a metaphor, not sure what it means.  I don't have a problem with metaphorical sweetness.  Some people say I'm sweet--less so, as the years pass.  My mom calls me honey baby, and she sends me emojis of bees.

There's a joke that was important to me when I was little.   Something like--how do you hide an elephant?  I think you're supposed to paint its toenails red and put it in a cherry tree?  A joke series, which I enjoy.

A joke can be like a metaphor.  Something pleasurably sneaky is happening.   I'll take it.

I was telling my friend how I described her to another friend.  I said how she was an English major, and I was an English major, so we have something in common.  For both us, majoring was a long time ago. 

That was kind of a joke too, because she and I are both Catholic Workers and have a shitton in common that has nothing to do with whether we've both read Dante's Inferno, Paradise Lost, or Great Expectations.

Yeah, jokes are my favorite.  I would definitely like a Master's degree in them.  That friend's dad was telling us xmas jokes.

How much does it cost for Santa to park his sleigh?
(Nothing--it's on the house.)

That was his favorite, but he begrudgingly told me one I liked better--Why was the letter E the only letter than got a Christmas present?

"I don't know--why?" I asked, after thinking about it a few seconds, sleepy on his sofa.

"Because the other letters were not E."

I laughed, groaning a bit.  An English major joke, kind of.  I want to tell my bestie that one.  She was an English major too.  Well, I'm fibbing--I wasn't an English major.  I was a Literature major, but close enough.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home