112 lines
5.6 KiB
Plaintext
112 lines
5.6 KiB
Plaintext
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From werner Thu Oct 27 14:06:34 1988
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Flags: 000000000001
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From: jailbird@ihlpm.UUCP (Ronald D Harvey +1 312 979 0586)
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Subject: My Story of Puking at My Prom After Eating Pizza Drunk!
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Keywords: gross, original, chuckle
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Date: 28 Nov 88 03:30:03 GMT
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{ed Be warned, this is not a pretty story.}
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There was a discussion about proms in soc.singles. I posted this
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'cause mine sure was a night to remember!
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Let me explain:
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To be frankly honest, I was less than a hunk knockout in my senior
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year at Lincoln-Way High School. In fact, I was a certified, UL-approved
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lemon. I had long greasy hair, braces, orthodontic rubber
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bands that would tend to pop out of my mouth at all the wrong
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moments, those tear-shaped tinted glasses that you occasionally see
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folks wearing at work (do they still make those?), and I dressed
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funny--I was convinced that platforms and blue jean vests were
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here to stay, so I had about forty pairs of the suckers. No, I
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couldn't be considered anyones' dreamboat, that's for sure. But
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that wasn't going to stop *me* from attending my Senior Prom!!
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You see, I was determined. I *wanted* to go to prom. "Ron, these
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are the best years of your life," Mom kept saying. "For once in
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your life, don't screw up!" "If these are the best years... No, I
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don't even want to think about it!" I thought. I wasn't gonna miss
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this one, oh boy oh boy.
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Yes, and not only was I gonna go, I was determined to take the most
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desirable girl in school: Zelda Klaghorn. Well, the most
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desirable to *me* anyway. I have to admit, Zelda resisted at first
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(OH my Zelda, Zelda! Where are you now?) but she eventually caved
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in 'cause I kept pelting her with orthodontic rubber bands every
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time I said "please." After the 40th "please!" she said she's go
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if I threw in an extra ten bucks. I was, as they say, on Cloud 9.
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Then came the big day. I was ready. I had on a glorious white tux
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and was just deciding whether to wear the shoes Fred's Super-Sharp
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Tux Rental had provided me (Fred had fitted me himself, spending an
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unusually long time to measure my inseam) or if I should wear the
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4-inch platforms I had just bought the week before when the
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doorbell rings. I ran down the stairs (no easy feat wearing one
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4-inch platform shoe) to find my good buddy Marco at the door.
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Marco was a good guy, but he was never quite the same after he ate
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that bottle of dog tranquilizers on the 4-H field trip the year
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before. I think he thought the Prom was some sort of Republican
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Party rally. (This was, after all, 1979!)
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"Let's raid your parents' liquor cabinet!" Marco says. Marco was
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going to let me use his '75 green Ford Torino, since my parents had
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taken their car. (It was my parents' Bowling Night that night, and
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they apologized for missing my big evening, but it was quarter-finals
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for their league and they just had to set their priorities,
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didn't they? They showed me how to use the automatic timer on the
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camera, so I guess it was all right.)
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"No Marco, I'm not going to let anything interfere with my big
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night with Zelda!" I said. "And the last time you drank you threw
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up Hormel Chili with Beans all over my parents' Chase lounger!
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Besides, Zelda's gonna be here any minute!"
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"Ah, chicken!" Marco was a master at peer pressure, so I couldn't
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resist having at least a couple of shots of Jack to prove to him that
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I was anything *but* chicken. After about ten shots, I realized
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that *I'd* eaten Hormel Chili with Beans for lunch and was
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beginning to feel woozy. I looked at my watch.
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"Christ! She'll be over any second!" I pushed Marco out the
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garage door so he could ride home on my bike. I hobbled up the
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stairs to my room (I still had that damn 4-inch platform on) and
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decided that Fred's low-heeled shoes would do just fine. But then,
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I was feeling too happy to care.
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Well, to make an already long story slightly longer, Zelda and I had
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a great big tuna, anchovy, and garlic pizza (whoever posted that they
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can't make good pizza in Chicago must've ate at a Denny's or
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something) at Del Dominico's. Zelda turned out to be a wild date,
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cleverly hiding a bottle of tequila in her nosegay (everybody,
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including me wanted to take a swig--I mean, sniff--of that thing
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all night!) Well, the Hormel Chili with Beans kept mixing with the
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tuna and hot peppers (did I forget to mention those?) until all of
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a sudden, right next to the hors d'oeuvres (I had to look that one
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up!), I ralphed it all up right next to the Ritz crackers.
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Luckily, everyone was dancing to the band playing "The Night
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Chicago Died," a tremendous hit at the time, and Zelda was busy
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powdering her nose, so my little bout with bodily functions went
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unnoticed. Lucky me!
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Well, you know the saying: "Everything tastes great when it sits on
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a Ritz!" That's what happened, and I'm proud to say that Ron's
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Hot-pepper Tuna Spread with Beans was and continues to be quite a
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culinary sensation in my home town.
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What happened to Zelda? We lost touch after graduation. But guess
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what? Next year is our Ten Year Reunion! I'm digging out the
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platforms and making a stop at Fred's. No more braces, oily hair,
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or orthodontic rubber bands, though. I hope the magic is still
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there!
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---
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Ron D. Harvey ..!att!ihlpm!jailbird
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--
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Edited by Brad Templeton. MAIL, yes MAIL your jokes to watmath!looking!funny .
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Attribute the joke's source if at all possible. I will reply, mailers willing.
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Remember: Only ONE joke per submission. Extra jokes may be rejected.
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