Have you ever had one of those weeks were nothing—absolutely nothing!—funny happens to you, but your friends’ lives seem to be a constant source of amusement? Welp, that was my life last week. In the continual cycle of coffee, class and work, my existence turned completely lackluster. Thank goodness for the absurdities of others.
Seeing as I have no funny story to recall or observation to discuss, I’ll share these funny stories with you. And if you’re having a duller than dull week, I hope they provide you with some comic relief.
“Dingleberries”
My friend and her boyfriend are very close. While I stand firmly in my “use discretion”-corner, she tells her boyfriend everything—and I mean everything—about her life. Usually I envy this openness, but Wednesday reminded me why it is sometimes best to keep your mouth shut.
After taking a shower that morning, my friend emerged from the bathroom to tell her boyfriend, “You’re not going to believe it. I just pulled the longest dingleberry ever out of my butt!” Her boyfriend, whose face at that moment I would pay millions of dollars to see, responded, “Ew, babe, I don’t need to know that! Why are you telling me this?” My friend, confused and somewhat offended, asked, “What’s the big deal? Everybody gets dingleberries.”
As it turns out, my friend thought “dingleberries” was the term used for the hair you find stuck in your butt crack after you take a shower, not, well, poop. After her boyfriend corrected her, she was mortified and came to me for reassurance, but I don’t think my continual fits of laughter were all that comforting.
The (maybe) dead neighbor
College apartment buildings smell awful. It is an unfortunate reality of Madisonian life, and why my friends didn’t immediately worry when their complex started to smell like Hagrid’s armpit. They did start to worry, however, when a package left leaning against the door of the apartment across the hall, remained untouched for three long weeks.
“If something was going to and from that apartment, the package would have fallen or been brought inside or SOMETHING!” my friend nervously reasoned. I sat on the couch, urging her to call the police. Did I actually think her neighbor was dead? It seemed plausible, but more than anything I wanted to see this situation unfold. After 20 minutes of convincing and a spiked Arnold Palmer, she called the non-emergency police, who said they would be over immediately.
Well, we must have missed their arrival, because when my friend looked again 10 minutes later, the book was gone. One of two things happened: The police came, saw that the apartment had been vacated and took to book, OR IT WAS IT GHOST! Man, what I wouldn’t give up to have a haunted apartment during a boring week like this.
The Bob Saget encounter
I’ve had a lot of lucky moments in life. When I was a kid, I won a free cruise, a trip to London and—wait for it—a pineapple within the span of five years. More recently, I was brought up on stage at The Second City in Chicago last month, an exciting moment for me considering the loves of my life happen to be Tina Fey and Amy Poehler.
But that’s all in the past, because last week my friend got to talk to and meet the father figure we all grew up with: Bob Saget, also know as Danny Tanner from “Full House.”
While I was meeting with my bosses for a mid-semester evaluation, my friend was chatting up the Bobster, asking about his buddy John Stamos and if he would every consider changing his name to Bob Swaget. Then when she went to his show Friday night, Bob remembered her and called her “nice.” I can’t get my own sister to call me nice.
Is your life way more awesome than Jacqueline’s? Share a fun story with her at jgoreilly@wisc.edu so she can live vicariously through you while simultaneously writing her 20-page political science paper.
