You know, 15 years ago, I went to visit the house of some friends - commonly referred to then as the "frat house" because there were 5 guys living there at the time... all friends of mine, most of whom I had introduced to each other, as the original tenant of the house was a friend and I had helped him find more than 90% of his 'housemates' over the years.
This time, I went into the fridge to retrieve something and came across a jar of Manischewitz Gefilte Fish. I paused. I hollared "who's Jewish?" Reply from the living room... "huh?" I pondered and replied "who is Jewish? I know it's not you N - and I know it's not D or B - and if Omega is (his real name) I'll eat my hat - so that leaves D, and he'd be the first Jewish guy from South Viet Nam I'd ever met so whose Gefilte Fish is this... Oh. My. God." From the living room, multiple voices "huh? what?! Oh my God what?"
"There's a jar of Gefilte Fish in your fridge... and the last person that could possibly have bought this was Debbie - and she moved out 4 years ago! Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww..."
I am the ghost of gefilte fish, I am the spectre of lox, I am what's left of the unfulfilled wish you wish for when clapped in the stocks...
That's today's poetry effort, my very dear friend -- the poet I went to hear this weekend, Richard Frost, reminded me of what I think you might be like at age eighty or so -- not just because of his wisdom and wit, but because he was wearing a pair of light brown silk argyle socks... [grin]
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
yow!
no subject
You know, 15 years ago, I went to visit the house of some friends - commonly referred to then as the "frat house" because there were 5 guys living there at the time... all friends of mine, most of whom I had introduced to each other, as the original tenant of the house was a friend and I had helped him find more than 90% of his 'housemates' over the years.
This time, I went into the fridge to retrieve something and came across a jar of Manischewitz Gefilte Fish.
I paused.
I hollared "who's Jewish?"
Reply from the living room... "huh?"
I pondered and replied "who is Jewish? I know it's not you N - and I know it's not D or B - and if Omega is (his real name) I'll eat my hat - so that leaves D, and he'd be the first Jewish guy from South Viet Nam I'd ever met so whose Gefilte Fish is this... Oh. My. God."
From the living room, multiple voices "huh? what?! Oh my God what?"
"There's a jar of Gefilte Fish in your fridge... and the last person that could possibly have bought this was Debbie - and she moved out 4 years ago! Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww..."
no subject
The last time I ate any...
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
I am the spectre of lox,
I am what's left of the unfulfilled wish
you wish for when clapped in the stocks...
That's today's poetry effort, my very dear friend -- the poet I went to hear this weekend, Richard Frost, reminded me of what I think you might be like at age eighty or so -- not just because of his wisdom and wit, but because he was wearing a pair of light brown silk argyle socks... [grin]
no subject
no subject