The Random Thread (My 5985)

But that's another story.

 

One stormy night, my good friend Ross, the Australian Jew who liked his bacon, set his eyes upon a blonde girl from St Louis. And when i say blonde, i mean really blonde. The sort of blonde where you think the bleach must have seeped through her pores into her brain at some point in her existence, so blonde was she.

 

Of course, Ross, my Jewish-Australian bacon-eating friend, wanted to get into her knickers.

 

Now, this blonde from St Louis, she was so clueless as to the world beyond her shores, I had taken to drawing little napkin maps to explain the location of certain things. Other countries, for example. I wouldn't have been surprised to discover that she thought the world was flat.

 

Now, as to her level of georgraphic intelligence, put it like this; she was from St Louis, and she knew that New York was east, Los Angeles was west, Canada was north and Mexico was south, but *exactly* where they were was where she would stumble.

 

Now, I hail from the great and ancient city of Lincoln. And when I say ancient, I mean 2,500 years of settlement ancient, for our American cousins who think a century is old. But, being in America, when I said Lincoln, some fool always responded, `Oh, Lincoln, Nebraska?` Yes, because I sound so American mid-western to you, do I? So, I had developed a habit of saying, `Lincoln, England` in response to the `where are you from` question.

 

Hello, what can I do you for?

 

I said this to said blonde.

 

She nodded and went `uh-huh.`

 

And her next words have remained imprinted upon my mind to this day. People say it's not true, but on my honour, it is the truth.

 

She said;

 

`After Abraham Lincoln?`

 

Ross, my friend the Australian Jew who liked his bacon, jerked when he heard this and his head snapped around like it was on a steel spring. He told me later that my face just sort of....froze. Now, Ross, my friend, wanted to sleep with the girl, no matter how insanely dumb she was. She was moderately pretty, legal and available, all Ross, my friend, cared about. He gave me a beseeching look of `don't queer my pitch, bro`, and the blonde's face was beginning to show signs of realising her mistake.

 

So, understandably, I panicked.

 

You're my wife now Dave​

​

 

`Yes,` I blurted out. `Yes. When the Romans named my city, they foresaw your 16th President.`

 

She seemed happy with that and swiftly changed the subject.

 

The next morning, Ross, my Jewish-Australian friend who liked his bacon, came down after sealing the deal and told me that she'd changed the subject herself the night before because she didn't know who the 16th President had been, and didn't want to appear foolish.

 

Oh, how I laughed.

 

THE END