- Forum Clout
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Where was BOQ when the Towers fell?
I remember where I was - in bed. I'm an old Jew, ok, when I decide to call a day Shabbat, it's Shabbat, ya hear me? And do I ever rest! I stay in my bed wrapped up like a toasty cinnamon bun, Homer Simpson style. I even unplug the phone - what, news isn't happening every day! Don't believe the hype.
Well, I wake up September 12, and when I see my morning paper... Oy, was my face red. I turn my phone back on, and there's over thirty calls from Walter Isaacson, president of CNN. And there's a text message, saying "C me." What is it with not writing a whole word, America? Our country changed yesterday, Walter, what's the hurry!?!
So I call him, sipping my morning Nescafe, and I cut the tension with my typical fervor: "Midtown Atlanta, hello!" Silence, not even a courtesy laugh. He then says to me "I really needed ya that day, Larry. (Sniff)" I apologized for not answering the phone, but he knows my rules about both Shabbat and my balls: I don't break em for nobody! "Huh," he said, sounding like he was pouring something away from the phone - probably Scotch, he's a known lush, you heard it here first - and I heard an audible gulp, telling me "You let down our FAWKIN' audience!" The first thing I ask him is "What's with the New York accent, you're from New Orleans!" And I tell him "Things happen, Walt, come on, we're friends!" He then tells me "We're not that close."
I'm walking on Gregshells, America. I try to smooth it over, and all he says is "Just come into work today, we need you." But I can tell he's still upset, I want to resolve this, and he yells right through my phone "LEAVE IT ALONE! Leave it the FAWK alone!" And hangs up.
I'm just speechless after that, ladies and gentleman. And I felt an odd craving afterwards for Bud Light, T-Shots and wanting to buy a gun. I never figured out why, but the feeling passed when I remembered that I'm not a mincing fairie.
Gavin in Jersey with a dildo up his ass, you're on the air!
I remember where I was - in bed. I'm an old Jew, ok, when I decide to call a day Shabbat, it's Shabbat, ya hear me? And do I ever rest! I stay in my bed wrapped up like a toasty cinnamon bun, Homer Simpson style. I even unplug the phone - what, news isn't happening every day! Don't believe the hype.
Well, I wake up September 12, and when I see my morning paper... Oy, was my face red. I turn my phone back on, and there's over thirty calls from Walter Isaacson, president of CNN. And there's a text message, saying "C me." What is it with not writing a whole word, America? Our country changed yesterday, Walter, what's the hurry!?!
So I call him, sipping my morning Nescafe, and I cut the tension with my typical fervor: "Midtown Atlanta, hello!" Silence, not even a courtesy laugh. He then says to me "I really needed ya that day, Larry. (Sniff)" I apologized for not answering the phone, but he knows my rules about both Shabbat and my balls: I don't break em for nobody! "Huh," he said, sounding like he was pouring something away from the phone - probably Scotch, he's a known lush, you heard it here first - and I heard an audible gulp, telling me "You let down our FAWKIN' audience!" The first thing I ask him is "What's with the New York accent, you're from New Orleans!" And I tell him "Things happen, Walt, come on, we're friends!" He then tells me "We're not that close."
I'm walking on Gregshells, America. I try to smooth it over, and all he says is "Just come into work today, we need you." But I can tell he's still upset, I want to resolve this, and he yells right through my phone "LEAVE IT ALONE! Leave it the FAWK alone!" And hangs up.
I'm just speechless after that, ladies and gentleman. And I felt an odd craving afterwards for Bud Light, T-Shots and wanting to buy a gun. I never figured out why, but the feeling passed when I remembered that I'm not a mincing fairie.
Gavin in Jersey with a dildo up his ass, you're on the air!
