Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Ask Uncle Sal: Pickled herring and picked-up chicks

Yeah, I know it's been a while since the last edition of Ask Uncle Sal. If yer wonderin' where I been, let's just say I ran into trouble in Laredo with a Honduran luchadora, a used car salesman, a mysterious suitcase, and a sandwich bag filled with what turned out to be a mixture of oregano and Chinook hops. Now, onto yer questions.

Hey Uncle Sal: It seems to me you got the wrong impression. I ain't gonna whack my ma. Her favorite snack is pickled herring. She eats it by the bushel, and I was trying to think of some way of sending it without offending the other passengers. Geez, I guess I shoulda mentioned that. Put Out in Pontchatouka, again

Hey Put Out, I reckon I did get the wrong impression. Except I didn't think you was gonna whack yer ma. I thought ya already done it. And yeah. I guess ya shoulda mentioned that. See, that there's what I mean when I say ya readers don't give me enough information. Now, as for the pickled herring, tell yer ma that's a fine choice. I reckon any little Igloo cooler will be enough to keep her herring fresh and keep the passengers away from the least until she props her head against the window and starts snorin' and exhaling the pickled herring scent for the entire bus to enjoy. Oh, and tell yer ma to pack a growler fulla Cajun martini cuz ain't nothin' goes with pickled herring like a Cajun martini.

Hey Uncle Sal: Ever since I started bringing home women I meet at clubs, my wife's in a bad mood. Any way to snap her out of it? Her constant banging on the bedroom door is really cramping my style. Annoyed in Apalachicola

Annoyed, the way I see it, there's a coupla reasons your wife might be in a bad mood and bangin' on the bedroom door.
  • When you go in there with some chick you picked up at the club, she feels like she's missin' out on sump'n she don't wanna miss. You know, maybe she wants a piece of the action too.
  • Another possibility is that she left her romance novel on the night table and she's bangin' on the door because she wants to do some readin' before she hits the hay.
  • Or maybe, just maybe, she's standin' on the other side of the door with a cast-iron skillet waiting to whack you or your bar chick on the coconut with it.
I say that first possibility is reason enough to open the door the next time she starts bangin' on it while you're gettin' yer groove on. Just duck in case she's there for possibility #3.

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