He Threw What?
OK, say you’re a 33 year old guy in Chicago who is distraught over problems with your girlfriend back in Poland.
What to do?
Seems pretty straightforward to me. You smash a bunch of car windows and then break into a house near the smashed cars.
Ooops! Someone must have called the police, because at least a half-dozen of them have taken up positions outside the house.
What to do?
Sheesh, it’s a no-brainer:
You proceed to the kitchen.
You remove all your clothing.
You gather up some kitchen knives to throw at the cops.
You slice off your sharona.
You run outside.
You throw the knives at the cops.
You throw your sharona at the cops.
You run inside to get more knives.
NOTE: My German-speaking readers might get a kick out of the pronunciation (ignore the spelling) of the sharona flinger’s name.
Thanks to my friend Brian, the Air Force Vet
May well lend new meaning to the song: “My Sharona…”
At least for me.
; P
Comment by Chrissy — March 20, 2006 @ 8:55 pm
When I first heard that song, I decided then and there that if “Sharona” was not a synonym for one’s flipding, it ought to be. It’s time now for the world to catch up with me.
Comment by Jim - Parkway Rest Stop — March 20, 2006 @ 9:00 pm
HA!
Thanks for waiting for me, Godfaddah.
; )
Comment by Chrissy — March 20, 2006 @ 10:28 pm
We call it an auto-Bobbit
Comment by Sluggo — March 20, 2006 @ 11:17 pm
He sho didn’t live up to his name…
Comment by ann — March 21, 2006 @ 4:41 am
… you know, I really can never even imagine getting angry enough about ANYTHING that I’d cut off my own tallywhacker….
Comment by Eric — March 21, 2006 @ 7:08 am