To say we did not have email when I was young, and having sex, more than once a year, would be the understatement of the century.
We told jokes on our nights out with friends and at parties. Business meetings were always started with a joke. Everybody had their favorite joke to tell. With the advent of email, a joke becomes stale in a few days. But back in my day, a joke could last years before someone said, “I heard that one.”
Some jokes never got stale because of the delivery required to tell the joke. Time and again, I would hear at parties, “Hey, Frank, tell the one about the two Italian guys and the whip cream.”
One of my good friends had a joke that never got old. Actually, I thought he was a good friend, until he jumped out of his office window one day, without telling me of his plans. But that’s for a different rant.
Anyway, his joke was about an Italian Guy who’s having a cup of espresso at the Italian-American Club, when his friend walks in the door. Let me explain before I continue with this joke that you have to tell it with an Italian Accent. An Italian Accent is easy, all you have to do is add ‘A’ to the end of words, from time to time. Got it?
Looking back, I realize my friend’s delivery was not so great. But it’s part of what made the joke even funnier. I guess you had to be there. Here’s the joke…
Luigi was sitting at the table sipping his espresso when Pasquali walked in the door. “Hey, Pasquali. Come-a sit down with me, have an espresso.” Pasquali looks over at Luigi, smiles at his friend, and replies, “Sure Luigi. How-a you been?”
“I’m-a good, too.” They sit for awhile. When Pasquali gets his espresso, Luigi puts down his cup, looks over at his friend and says, “Tell me, Pasquali, you like-a the woman with the fat-a face and the big-a mole on the cheek?”
“No, Luigi. I no like-a that kind-a woman,” replies Pasquali. They sit looking down at their cups for a long moment. Luigi takes another sip of his espresso, looks up at his friend and asks, “Tell me, Pasquali, you like-a the woman that has-a the hair under the arms that looks like-a wool on a sheep and the arms with the fat-a that swings back-a and forth-a when she walks?”
“No, Luigi, I no like-a that kind of woman,” replies Pasquali in a disgusted voice. Luigi takes another sip and says, “Pasquali, you like-a the woman with the big-a tits that hang down over the fat-a stomach?”
“No, Luigi, I no like-a this kind of woman,” replies Pasquali. “But why do you ask-a me these questions?” Luigi takes a long sip, puts down his espresso, wipes his mouth with his napkin, looks up at his friend and says, “So tell-a me, Pasquali, then why you fuck-a my wife?”
Those of us who still miss my friend spew out a line from this joke whenever the occasion calls for the analogy. I think this election calls for a line from this joke.
You like-a the Party that turned a surplus into a Trillion dollar annual deficit? You like-a the party that started two wars? You like-a the party that gave us Thomas, Scalia, Alito, Roberts and Citizens United? Well, if you don’t like-a that party, why you gonna vote-a for them again?
To be Brutal, to be Frank, I know the reason why they want to find fault with a leader who’s worked hard to solve all the problems and sins of the past, a leader who’s one and only priority is the health of our nation.
It’s the Black Guy in the White House, plain and simple!