More Army Talk

COL: I brought some cheesecake.
Me: You're a nasty, nasty man, sir. I mean that in the best possible way.

Cascade, Act II: Fire

Me: I'm poking around some websites, like ya do, and there are banner ads for Rozerem, a sleeping aid. Have you seen them? Abraham Lincoln and a huge beaver on a motorcycle, with the slogan, "Your dreams miss you." Actually, no, Abe and the beaver are in a sidecar.
Mike: Yeah, I saw the TV ads (and then the print ads later), and I immediately wondered why they were trying to connect their product to the month of February. See, cuz I thought the beaver was a groundhog. If they had used any other president, or any other rodent--barring, obviously, a groundhog--I wouldn't have been confused. Once I realized they were just trying to be surreal, it was kind of funny. But the whole February thing ruined it for me.
Me: Lincoln's pretty much a given, since he's certainly the most identifiable. How 'bout Lincoln carrying a garden gnome? On a merry-go-round?
Mike: See, funnier. You should have written their ads. Although garden gnomes might be over-used in commercials these days. Perhaps a dwarf.
Me: Lincoln, spinning a plate on a stick, riding bareback.
Mike: Lincoln, spinning a dwarf on a stick, riding bareback on a llama?
Me: Lincoln marrying a llama!
Mike: Lincoln marrying a dwarf llama! On a stick!
Me: A llama in a stovepipe hat!
Mike: Lincoln wearing a llama! And marrying his hat! (Mistaking his wife for a hat, if you will.)
Me: Oliver Sacks in a llama costume!
Mike: BF Skinner in a dress! In a box! On a stick!
Me: With Schroedinger's cat!
Mike: On a ladder! On fire!
Me: Balanced on the feet of three tiny Chinese acrobats!
Mike: Reading Proust! In the original French! (See, now that's a dream. Why aren't marketers as clever as us?)
Me: Translating into Swahili on the fly!
Mike: Monkeys! Somewhere!
Me: On fire!
Mike: We're repeating now, so I guess we're done. How long before it ends up on the blog?

Cascade, Act I: Smoke

Announcement: The Army Substance Abuse Program will relocate from [building] to [building] on 15 August 2006. There will be NO urinalysis samples processed from 15 August to 21 August 2006.
Me: Well, smoke 'em if you got 'em.
Mike: Well, remember, detectable THC stays in your system for 7 days, so that's not quite a big enough window. Ya might get lucky. But you could always go with some heroin. Or a big ol' bag of crack. Yummy.
Me: So they managed so send the email early enough to let the "good" people know where they are, but late enough that the "bad" people can't take advantage of it. Wow. I don't give them enough credit.
Mike: I think it's mostly for the brass. Cuz, as you know, them Generals love their coke.
Me: I just read this conversation to the Alcohol and Drug Control Officer, and she just said, "Yup."
Mike: Dude, I'm gonna get you fired.
Me: "I'm gonna have you killed." I waffled on responding with that, but I hope you'll catch the reference and not have me arrested.
Mike: My lawyer has recommended I not speak to you. You'll be hearing from him soon. He's very, very large.
Me: But...but...you did get the reference, right?
Mike: If you continue in this manner, I will be forced to bring harassment charges against you as well. Merry Christmas.
Me: But...I...
Mike: ...yesss? Apologies won't help you now.
Me: *pfft* Who was apologizing?
Mike: I hope you enjoy jail.

Audition Tape

Jeff: I was watching it, and I thought...
Me: "I'm a nerd!"
Jeff: I'm a giant nerd!

Carmen Suite

Ray: I'm just glad I had a tacet sheet for that thing, so I didn't have to be on stage for it.
Me: As I understand it, you could have joined in on the tambourine madness.
Ray: Yeah, it's like cowbell. You just can't have too much.

Note: "Tambourine Madness" = band name.

Workin' Hard

Me: Kepya?
Chris: Huh?
Me: Can I help you?
Chris: I'm just gonna sit here.
Me: Ah, you're hiding. That's fine.
Chris: I'm gonna...uh...read about Robert Russell Bennett.
Me: There's a crapload of books about Adolf Sax in there somewhere.
Chris: Ooh!
Me: There's in fact way more books about saxophones than you ever wanted to see. Which is probably two.
Chris: That's probably true.

A Matter of Perspective

Mark R.: Hey! How's things by you?
Me: Oh, you know. Had the inevitable fight with McGhee today.
Mark R.: Better you than me.

Sometimes It's Not Even Worth Having a Nose

Me: It smells like yogurt. And not in a good way.
Greg: Yeah. Something smelled weird on the way to Carrabbas, too.
Me: Something smelled weird while we were there. It smelled like feet. Specifically, it smelled like my feet. I assume it was some sort of cheese. *pause* Jeez, that needs to go on the blog.

I Got Them Can't Find the Testing Machine Then Figure Out It's In the Same Pocket As the Lancets Blues

Greg: I got up this morning...
Me: Buh nuuh nuh nuh.
Greg: ...with a great deal of effort.
Me: Buh nuuh nuh nuh. I said I woke up this morning...
Greg: ...with a great deal of effort. I went to the bathroom, and then I went in the den, and I got my testing stuff, but this pocket was empty! So I looked in the kitchen, and it wasn't there, and I looked in the basement, and it wasn't there, and I couldn't figure out where I left it! So then I looked in here again, and it was in with the lancets!
Me: Man, you started out with some great 12-bar blues, and then it just went downhill.

Tempting, but...

Sue (brightly): Hello! Would you like to come to my suicide?
Me: Will you take people with you?

Today's Typo

Colorado Sproings

On the Duthoit Transcription of the Overture to "Marriage of Figaro"

Band    1
Mozart  0

Territory

Me: Should I be worried about the addresses that seem to have been marked in the past?
Teresa: Nah, there's no assigned parking. Except this space is mine, and there's someone in it.

Isn't There a Beatles Tune of This?

Me: Messenger bag.
Greg: Man purse.
Me: Messenger bag.
Greg: Murse.
Me: All of our arguments eventually dissolve into us repeating one word endlessly.
Greg: No.
Me: Yes.
Greg: No!

I Saw a Crappy Maze, And I Thought...

Me: It's like...whatever the hell that Nazi game was.
Greg: Wolfenstein 3D.

Thank You So Very Much For the Lovely Thank-You Note

Me: Who calls to thank me for an email?
Mike B: Hey, he could've faxed. That'd be worse.

Splish Splash

Beth: Words I didn't want to hear: "It's coming through the ceiling." I'm gonna go close my door now.

[Note: people are storming in and out of the men's bathroom across the hall, whence there comes a surprisingly loud sound of running/splashing water. Typically, any given individual's initial entrance into the bathroom is immediately followed by one or more oaths. Fun!]

Once I'm Sent to Research Music from 1990, Can Total Anarchy Be Far Behind?

Me: Desert Storm: 17 Jan 1991-27 Feb 1991. "Right Here, Right Now" Billboard #1: 9 Feb 1991-9 Mar 1991
Mike: See there. With Jesus (Jones) all things are possible.
Me: I sent another email supporting "Rock the Casbah." How much would you pay to hear a military band playing The Clash?
Mike: Plenty. But that was so not 1990. More like 1980. And also, kinda tacky, no?
Me: 1983. But check this.
Mike: Yeah, I remember the stir about the Clear Channel list, and this song in particular. It figures it got co-opted by the Right (and the military...which I guess are the same thing). There's little recognition of satire or appreciation of irony among them, I find. And the more I think about it, the tackier it gets. Don't be tacky, SJA.
Me: Would you prefer "We Didn't Start the Fire?" That's at least from 1990.
Mike: Hmm...perhaps. But only if there's a video montage of burning Kuwaiti oil wells over it.
Me: Lemme check the script...it just says "Boots on the Ground" video. That could be anything. Seriously, the frontrunner is "Vogue."
Mike: Now *that's* comedy.
Me: I demand choreography.
Mike: And, ideally, appropriate costumes.
Me: There was a guy group we sang with in college who did an a cappella arrangement of Vogue, and when it got to the spoken part, two guys joined the soloist at the front of the stage and did the whole dance, straight out of the video. Mad, crazy audience response. Screaming, immediate standing ovation, applause for minutes afterward. I mean, this was eleven, twelve years ago and I remember it...not well enough to tell you what group it was, but still...Man, that was funny.
Mike: Well, I think your group should certainly try to live up to that. Maybe you can invite Madonna to make an appearance. It's for America, after all.
Me: We could put the colonel in a bullet bra. It'd be cheaper.
Mike: Would he be willing to bleach his hair? Ya know, for America?
Me: What hair?
Mike: Get the poor man a nice wig.
Me: Maybe the "Blonde Ambition" tour look.
Mike: I was thinking more her early look for him, but Material Girl would work, too.
Me: Desperately Seeking Finley.
Mike: Are you? I'm sure he's about.
Me: Not here. And frankly, that's fine with us.
Mike: Perhaps he's off picking out a new Madonna wig.

The Anniversary Concert

Me: Who did Groove is in the Heart?
Matt: C+C Music Factory?
Me: No, they did Gonna Make You Sweat.
Matt: Huh. Was it a one-hit wonder?
Me: Dunno...ah, apparently it was Deee-lite.
Matt: That's vaguely familiar. *pause* Whoah...wait...why are you looking that up?!
Me: *look askance* Do you really want to know that answer to that question?
Matt: *slump* I guess I'll just find out in the normal course of events.

It's a bird! It's a plane! It's Superego!

Vendor: My social security number is xxx-xx-xxxx. Now you may steal my identity.
Me: I need a check for this guy.
Supply: I can do that this week.
Me: Dandy. Then we can steal his identity!
Supply: Do we really need more around here? The band seems to have more than enough.
Me: I think you're thinking of egos.
Supply: Oops, that is what I meant. Or was it personalities?
Me: Personality we could probably use a little more of, in some cases. Ego, we got pllllenty.
Supply: Good point.

The Definitive Dixieland Band Conversation, Of Which I Was Recently Reminded

Me: You guys don't actually use music, do you?
SGM Brye: *scoff* Who's asking?
Me: Some college band director wants to borrow Dixieland charts.
SGM Brye: Tell 'im to get a hymnal.

Calendar Issues

Jennifer: Have a good weekend!
Me: You too. Wait a minute. It's Tuesday.
Jennifer: Yeah, I know, but I'm going to Atlanta tomorrow.

Bowl of Pain!

Greg: And the thing is, the "kimchi" bowl noodle doesn't taste like kimchi, nor does the "camaron" bowl noodle taste like camaron. Although the "hot" bowl noodle does taste like hot.

Seen Here, in Figure A

Greg: It's what we're good at: comparing ourselves to other people.
Me: I'm better at it than you are.

The "Down Easter" Acccent

Bruce: When I travel, I don't have a car, and I don't drink beer. I drive an automobile, and I'll have whatever's on draft.

They Say Most Mammals Can Recognize the Call of Their Young

*screams*
Ron: Sounds like Kirsten.

Be Specific! B-E Specific!

Jerry: Don't burn the chicken this year.
David: I didn't burn the chicken. I burned the sausage.

Dad's 55th High School Reunion

Dad: It was great! All the pains in the ass have died by now.

Please, I'm Trying to Eat

Seventy-Something Woman 1: I'm just afraid you're going to come home with a couple of boy-toys!
Seventy-Something Woman 2: What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

"Either That Wallpaper Goes, Or I Do"

Me: LT wants to rent "Last Words of David," for the end of September. It's $305. Okay?
Resource Manager: I'm pretty sure we can squeeze $305 from somewhere. Out of curiosity, what were the last words of David?
Me: "I have nothing to declare but my genius?"
RM: He spoke English?
Me: It was good enough for Jesus Christ!

Primal Cuteness

Me: We're going to get married.
Greg: I know. Is it the 21st or the 23rd?
Me: The 23rd.
Greg: Ah, good. That's prime.
Me: Actually, several of the dates we were looking at were primes: 11, 17…
Greg: Huh.
Me: We're just drawn to primes.
Greg: Awwww….primes symbolize our marriage! Together we multiply to form…no, that doesn't work…
Me: Together we're indivisible!
Greg: Gagh…that's terrible!
Me: Oh, like the rest of the conversation wasn't.
Greg: I think that was the breaking point.

And it anagrams to "Britney Spears"

Me: Presbyterians are historically Scottish.
Greg: Where was Calvin from?
Me: Dunno.
Greg: I'm just trying to fit this all together.
Me: I think all Calvinists are Presbyterian, but not all Presbyterians are Calvinist. Not entirely sure.
Greg: So the Venn diagram...
Me: Looks like a big fried egg, yes.
Greg: With a yolk of Calvinists!
Me: As opposed to the yoke of Calvinists.
Greg: *moan*
Me: Oh, you would've said it.

Summer Fare

Me: Whoa, somebody doesn't know how to program outdoor summer concerts: "Thrill to orchestral excerpts from Wagner's epic Ring cycle and the film score for The Lord of the Rings, followed by a vocal performance of Carmina burana."
Greg: Yeah, that's what your picnic audience wants to hear.
Me: Yeah, that goes with chicken.

Veiled Threats 101

Greg: How 'bout ketchup for breakfast?
Me: It has natural mellowing agents.
Greg: That's lucky...for you.

In a Sense, Still Wrong

Greg: You're not my boss!
Me: No, it's "you're not the boss of me."
Greg: Oh. You're not the boss of me!

No Right Answer

Me: *picks up penny*
Greg: Oh!
Me: You didn't see that? It was all glinty-glinty!
Greg: Ah, just like a crow, you are attracted to shiny things. That explains why you're attracted to me. Because I'm shiny.
Me: Man, if I argue with that, it means I think you're dull. I'm trapped.
Greg: Sweet. That wasn't even intentional.

84 degrees, 70% humidity

Me: It's hot.
Greg: You're telling me.
Me: ...said the guy wearing jeans.
Greg: No kidding.
Me: Your shower went to waste.
Greg: I'm going to be stinky all day. Good thing I'm gaming.
Me: And gamey.
Greg: Hooray! Two...things that go...together.

Deleted Mail

March 2006...

Me: ...and then I went to ThinkGeek, and now I have $70 of stuff in my cart.
Mike: I would be excited about that, except I assume none of it is for me. *sigh* It's hard being replaced as the geek.
Me: I think most of it's for me. Dude, l33t Scrabble tiles. How could I resist?
Mike: Those are awesome. Although I suppose not technically legal in the game.
Me: This from the man who plays Aztec Gods Scrabble.
Mike: Once, with Bill. And it was college! I was experimenting! It didn't count!

Tonight's Lindy Step: Extended Circle

George 1: Are you dizzy yet?
Me: Which one of you said that?
George 2: I think it was the middle one.

Today's Typo

When I bought my house, I was very understanding when all of my mortgage and title paperwork listed my employer as the Field Bank, because someone typing up mortgage and title forms all day surely types "Bank" more often than they type "Band." It's muscle memory. No big thing.

Therefore I hope you will understand when I type...

...made no distinction between good music and band music...

Character Assessment

Mac: Are they assholes?
Me: Nah, they're just idiots.

Phrase Shouted By Ushers Upon Opening the House, Giving a Clear Indication of the Audience We Draw

"Wheelchairs and walkers first!"

News Flash: Jazzers Lack Grasp of Obvious

Sax Player: So apparently, I’m not allowed to warm up on the Star-Spangled Banner with blues notes anymore.
Trumpet Player: Yeah, we’re not supposed to warm up on Taps. But it’s a perfect warm-up.
Sax Player: Man, that's bull.

Smackdown

Me: You want to see that big ol' picture of you.
Steve: Yeah! You put it in your computer?
Me: Hell, yeah. It's gonna be part of my shrine.
Steve: Really?
Me: No.

Odds

Me: What are my chances of just wiping out in that mud?
Pat S: Slightly lower, since you know about it.
Me: Still not zero, though.
Pat S: Ah, no.

Almost Perfect

When a girl gets engaged, particularly a girly-girl, all free time is spent planning her wedding. Therefore, I have a heightened awareness of others' matrimonial activities.

Although the panic-themed wedding in the hotel tonight has already been the source of much amusement and what-not-to-do note-taking (ie., don't forget to pack the whole dress), it was the girl at the Saks' cosmetics counter that wins the Bad Planning Prize of the moment.

She'd had her hair done already, and it was well shellacked into an immovable mass of curls--tiara above, veil beneath--and she was now having her make-up done with a smile of blissful anticipation. She was wearing a black, slimming, "curve-hugging" baby t-shirt. I almost told her what I was thinking:

"How're you gonna get that t-shirt off, dumbass?"

A Manifesto

Pat S: The only way to really change the world is to blow it up.

The All-American Soldier

Me: I'll find it. I'll find it in MIDI.
Greg: Oh, god.
Me: I love you.
Greg: I love you too?

POV Risk Assessment

System: Estimated travel time: 1.9 hours. Will you be taking regular breaks?
Me: No, I will drive straight through.
System: *freaks out* You must take breaks every two hours!
Me: Um...okay...
System: Will you be taking regular breaks?
Me: Uh...yes?
System: Okay, good. You know, I knew a guy once who didn't take regular breaks, and now he's dead.
Me: Look, are we done here?
System: Congratulations! You've successfully submitted your Risk Assessment.

Ooh, someone's gettin' smacked

Me: We request permission to arrange [tune].
Publisher: [bizarre question about arrangement]
Me: [answer]
Publisher: [inexplicable question about arrangement]
Me: [answer]
Publisher: [gibberish question]
Me: [answer to assumed question]
Publisher: We no longer control [tune].

So, what, he wasted so much time asking for irrelevant details that the song changed hands?

Actually, somehow, I believe that.

Deleted Mail

February 2006...

Me: So, what's the lunch plan, and how can I modify the lunch plan to include y'all doing heavy lifting for me?

Deleted Mail

February 2006...

Me: Be oblong and have your knees removed.
Mike: I'd rather be obsequious, purple, and clairvoyant.
Me: That's probably because you have that live chicken in your underwear. Me, I prefer to criticize things I don't know about.

Deleted Mail

January 2003...

Me: You know the handy "did you mean" link on google, when it thinks you've misspelled a word? I'm looking for a tune by a guy named Joseph Schwatner. I got "did you mean shatner?"
Mike: *Joseph* Shatner, his obscure cousin, the openly-gay interpretive dancer?

Deleted Mail

January 2003, after ad-hoc gospel choir rehearsal...

Me: You weren't singing, Don.
Euphonium Player: In the music dictionary, the definition of "unfunky" has a picture of me.
Me: The colonel was singing.
EP: Well, I'm at least that funky. I'm not much, but I can beat some.

Deleted Mail

July 2002...

I win the stupidest question of the day award. I just got a call from a woman wanting me to send her the piano part to Ruffles and Flourishes. I sang her the whole thing. Four times.

Her: That's it?
Me: That's it.
Her: So there wouldn't be music for it, then?
Me: No.

Eventually I faxed her the appropriate page out of FM 12-50. The top half of the page is R&F. The bottom half of the page is Funeral Dirge. That pleases me.

Extremely Deleted Mail

May 2002...

Me: I have Outlook set up to spell check before sending, and for Cercone it suggests "Crone" and "Creole."
Mike: Neither of which apply in the slightest. Whereas "Beheads" for
"Bethesda" works quite well.

Most People Would Just Say "What are You Doing Here?"

Me: You don't exist in this area! You exist in the Severna Park area!
Peter: I exist in many areas. I'm working on omnipresence.
Me: That must be exhausting.
Peter: It really wears your brain out.

Deleted Mail

January 2006:

Me: The Army Chorus is billing themselves as "the country's only professional male chorus." Better hope Chanticleer doesn't find out about that. Not sure about Cantus--they may be part-timers.

IW: Cantus is, in fact, a full-time chorus. Maybe what the Army Chorus meant was "the country's only professional male chorus that pretends to not be gay."

Deleted Mail

January 2006:

Me: Hey, kick ass! The title of the program your tune is on is "Band Geeks Unite!"
Tadd: How did they know?
Me: How could they not?
Tadd: Touché.

Deleted Mail

January 2006:

Me: You know that woman who wrote that thing for [concertmaster]? She just sent another set of if. I'm going to file it someplace special.

COL: Did you throw it out?
Me: Not yet.

Deleted Mail

Post-Super Bowl...

At yesterday's obligatory Super Bowl party, the host had three remove-the-ring type puzzles sitting next to the TV. Greg picked one up that was allegedly "the hard one." (Host's girlfriend, who apparently gave them to him for Christmas: "They're all supposed to be hard." Host: "Well, they're not.") I picked up what was called "the easy one," and said Greg would probably finish before I did. He didn't. I then picked up "the medium one," and finished that too, noticing that one piece of it was a different type of metal for a reason.

At least half an hour later, Greg was still working on the hard one. I noticed it also had the different type of metal...

Me: Can I show you something?
Greg: I guess.
Me: (demonstrate properties of other metal)
Greg: Ah!
Host: Dude, did she just show you how to do it?
Greg: Pretty much.
Host: Dude, we need to revoke your PhD.
Me: I thought you were going to say "penis." Because that was pretty emasculating.
Host: I wasn't going to go there.
Greg: Thank you.

Deleted Mail

February 2006 (although I don't remember it at all)...

Me: Programming around here is a constant reminder that you can't please all of the people all of the time. And you can't please any of the clarinet section ever.

Deleted Mail

Overheard conversation about marching rehearsal...

Eddie: We're gonna look like five monkeys f*cking a football.
Mike: How do you figure?
David: Well, it's gonna be at least five times funnier than one monkey.

Turn-In List

Major: First thing tomorrow, we're going to turn in this many charts.
Me: Cool.
Major: Actually, no. First thing tomorrow, we're going to find out the trumpet parts are missing from this many charts.

Inciting the Workers to Revolt: Just One More Service I Offer

Shari: Is he gone?
Me: Yes.
Shari: That's why I do this during lunch. So I can sneak in his office...
Me: And steal stuff?
Shari: Yes.
Me: And pee in his shoes, like a cat?
Shari: Now there's an idea!

Self-Knowledge

Me: You know all four of our scores are bound wrong, and you're the only one who's noticed.
LT: What can I say?
Me: That's attention to detail, sir. You were born to be a librarian.
LT: Nah, I'm not that smart. I can only be a conductor.

Please Attach Finisher

Bernie: You need something?
Me: I'm looking for Gene. I found this chunk under the copier. Probably has something to do with the fact that the finisher keeps coming unhooked.

Bernie: Your copier?
Me: Yep.
Bernie: The good one?
Me: Yep.
Bernie: The big, expensive one?
Me: Yep.
Bernie: That looks important.
Me: Yep.
Bernie: Good thing they made it out of plastic instead of, say, metal.

On the Off Chance Someone Reading This Blog Isn't Personally Issued This Order

See Wordplay. Multiple times. I command you.

In the interest of "leading by example," I've already seen it twice, even though it's not technically out yet.

And after you've seen it, buy the book. And do the puzzles. But slower than me, so I can gloat.

Captain Clammy Issues a Threat

Steve: You get an extra long handshake today.

Shoulda Stopped While He Was Ahead

Steve: I have oil under my fingernails. How butch is that?
Me: Ooh, that's very butch.
Steve: I was filling tiki torches.

Things Said While Cooking, Which I Will Not Tell the Guests Until After They Eat

"It looks vaguely fecal."

"Oh, God, it's melting the spoon!"

Mo' Onions

Greg: Stupid three-dimensional vegetables.
Me: They hate you.
Greg: I've noticed. They make me cry.

Dang Uncommon Names, Stealing All My Fun

Me: When you have a second, I have a fun puzzle for you.
Greg: Okay, what?
Me: What is this a list of: Wei-Hwa, Thomas, Roger, Jonathan, Zack?
Greg: World Puzzle Champions.
Me: Aw, man. Roger was a giveaway!
Greg: Uh, no, Wei-Hwa was. Roger could be anybody. Wei-Hwa, I only know one.
Me: Okay, good point.

I Have Very Limited Powers

Me: *holding previously-believed-to-be-lost music* I'm the god! I'm the god!
Chris: How did you find that?
Me: I'm the god, that's how.
Chris: Wow.
Me: You better believe it.

Truth in Advertising

Me: What flavor of saxophone are you auditioning?
Chris: We usually just audition on alto...
Me: ...and make 'em play other stuff when they get here?
Chris: Gives us something to do.

Accuracy

Me: I put the score on your desk.
LTC: Thanks. Do we have a time on it?
Me: Short.
LTC: Is that a no?
Me: Probably. Lemme look...2:38.
LTC: Okay, so "short" is technically correct.

Highlights from an E-Mail from Dad

"What would I do with a yurt? I wouldn't even know what to feed it."

"We're starting to think the wedding will be a good thing."

Predictability

Greg recently [unwittingly] reminded me of this overheard conversation from college...

Guy: How are they packaged?
Vendor: By the dozen. I been doin' this for years. I can multiply any number by twelve.
Guy: Yeah? So what's...
Vendor: 204.
Guy: How'd you know I was going to say seventeen?
Vendor: Everybody always says seventeen.

Happens Every Day

Member of the General Public: I want to borrow this tune from you.
Me: We don't have it.
MGP: But you have to have it. I heard it on a recording of a totally different band. Therefore it is clearly in your library.

Lindy Lesson

Teacher: The butt is a visual thing.
Me: How true.
Partner: *crumple to floor*

Deleted Mail

From November 2005:

Me: Is it possible to cancel my order of [tune]? I'll poke the conductor in the eye if it's any consolation.
Dealer: Unfortunately it is too late to cancel the import. I doubt it is worth getting court-martialed over, but that's a decision you'll have to make.

Me: Fair enough. Can I poke the conductor in the eye anyway?
Dealer: You're on your own with that.

Gut Reaction

Me: Well, he found this other Robert Russell Bennett tune...
IW: [expletive]! We just...sorry...[expletive]...we just recorded eighty minutes of it! Sorry. I didn't mean to...sorry.

Sightreading Packets

Matt: I'm taking out this copy of the "Saints" solo and replacing it with this nearly identical copy with my chicken-scratch on the top saying "Swing."

Me: Nice. "Swing, numb nuts."
Matt: "Numb nuts" is implied.

The Last Full Measure of Devotion

Matt: What's that?
Me: Don't look! You'll go blind!
Matt: "The Last Full Measure?" Is it for summer?
Me: Yeah. It's bad.
Matt: Is it, like, "The Rose" bad?
Me: It's like "The Rose" plus "We Were There."
Matt: *slumps*
Me: Well, no, it's more like "God Bless the USA" times "Wind Beneath My Wings."
Matt: *slumps further* I'll just let my body language speak for me.

Maple Glazed Veal Medallions

Me: Who puts tree sap on a baby cow?
Greg: Crazy people.
Me: Crazy like a fox.

He's That Subtle

Greg: Ah, now I can move on to the other thing I was planning to do tonight.
Me: Worship me?
Greg: I've been doing that. You...you didn't notice?

This Isn't About You. Probably.

Me: His blog runs toward the femmy.
Greg: "Runs toward?" It smacks into it and slathers itself with the femmy!

Censored, Yet Still Amusing, Phone Call, In Its Entirety

Me: Librarysergeantanderson.
IW: Hey, it's [IW]
Me: Hey.
IW: What's the name of that bastard from [company]?
Me: [name]
IW: Okay, thanks! Bye!
Me: Bye!

The Monthly Ritual

Greg: I'll say it again, as I do every month, I'm glad I cleaned out my ears.
Me: What?
Greg: I'M GLAD I CLEANED OUT MY EARS.
Me: Ah. Ya find anything? Wood lice?
Greg: Well, I found a couple of weasels, which I didn't expect. But you have to be ready for anything.

Insights into Northern Africa

BBC Radio: The center of Somalia is Somalia.
Me: A crunchy Somali center!
Greg: Yes!
Me: Surrounded by creamy nougat!
Greg: That's why Ethiopia doesn't attack! They can't get through the nougat!

Deleted Mail

Me: Score's in B-flat, parts are in A-flat...unless violins or flutes transpose, which I have trouble imagining.
Conductor: Whaddya wanna bet the conductor will never figure it out? Or notice? Or care?
Me: Oh, I think we'd all notice if violins tried to transpose. "Who's killing cats?!"

Guest List

Me: The only addresses I don't have are Aunt Myrtle and the Schendels.
Dad: Aunt Myrtle and the Schendels? I have all their albums!

I Hate It When He's Right

Greg: How are you going to take over the world without a ninja army? And don't say you're going to kill people with your mind, because I've seen it, and it doesn't work.
Me: *concentrate*
Greg: See?
Me: Damnit!

The Typo...

...that tells you it's time to go home: Korean Wart Veterans.

Possible New Blog Title

Mike: This you needed to write down?

Boom!

Me: We had a cardamom explosion at home.
Mike: Is that the world's worst Ben & Jerry's flavor?
Erica: Cardabomb!

Webster's 11th Collegiate

Mike: Dude, is that the dictionary with f***in' "irregardless?"

Mame

Mike: If anyone can coax the blues right out of the horn, it's Christine Baranski, goddamnit.

Njera

Mike: Did you have the sponge bread?
Me: We tried.
Mike: You made it?
Me: Yeah.
Mike: You know, you can buy it.
Me: Not in Odenton.
Mike: At the Whole Foods.
Me: No Whole Foods in Odenton.
Mike: At little, like, markets.
Me: Not in Odenton.
Mike: Use pita!

I am Zoog of Tyvek!

Erica: God, the last thing Tadd needs is a mythology.