Prunes and Prism

RULES FOR YOUNG LADIES: Some arch advice on snagging a husband. Exercising the mouth into a pretty shape through repetition of certain words seems to have been an indoor sport for young nineteenth-century girls; in Little Dorrit, Charles Dickens' overly bred girl repeats, "papa, potatoes, poultry, prunes and prism." (Merrycoz.org)

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

The Best Day of Their Lives

Last night I found the Comrade downloading ultra-close-ups of the now-infamous head butt and its immediate aftermath, including one of the Italian guy (whose name I refuse to remember because I've heard it now so many times) writhing on the ground while Zidane stands over him smoldering.

"You see, he really hurt him," the Comrade said.

I said I could see that and pointed to the guy's jaw, locked as it was in agony.

"No, I mean Zidane," the Comrade said solemnly. "He really hurt him."

I decided somebody needed to be left alone, and it was me.

When I came back an hour and a half later, the Comrade was watching fan-made video montages of Zidane's greatest hits, one set, inexplicably, to "Bette Davis Eyes."

I told him he was acting like a girl after a bad breakup, mooning over the old letters and vacation photos. Instead of Haagen-Dazs, however, he has beer.

"Don't you have something like this in Russian -- 'There are other fish in the sea'?"

And he said*, "There are no other fish in the sea."

I vaguely remember reading about a survey of English men who, when asked to name the best day of their lives, cited the day England won the World Cup. Not the day their children were born, or the day they graduated medical school, or the day they caught the trout with Grampa. The best day of their lives.

*Just as I did over Chris Frey in 1985!

1 Comments:

Blogger frostine said...

I LOVE the idea of them going to couples counseling! Do you think they'll have to "mirror" what each thinks the other one said, and make lists of what they like about each other to put on the refrigerator?

4:49 PM  

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