Many adjectives have been used to describe my rather particular brand of humor: brilliant, witty, jocular, facetious, dry, intelligent, ingenious, keen, funny, piquant, amusing, piercing, clever, audacious, and hilarious. A rather long, egotistical list, you say? Perhaps. However, one word exempt from this list is 'mature'......
The man to the left (my left) of me is Artan, my Albanian friend. Of course, our crazy friend, Sattar, whom I recently wrote about regarding his imbibing of blue toilet disinfectant, is being as classy as he knows how. (again, click on picture to enlarge)
Artan and I share a similar flavor of humor, and laugh all day long whilst working together. One thing we have taken to doing is learning new Hindi words and phrases, as there are thousands of Indians (dot indians, not feather indians) working as subcontractors here in Iraq. We learn the usual greetings and farewells, but alas, our education sessions always seem to include inappropriate words and phrases. What we do with our newfound knowledge is reflective of said missing word above, though funny nonetheless. On a daily basis, we see at least 50 Indians working in our chow hall. Most of them know us, as we exchange mutual greetings with them while being served our food. Occasionally, we use one of the new Hindi words we've learned, such as "shukria", which is 'thank you'. This usually brings a smile to a young Injuns face, and brings me satisfaction to be reaching out to the subcontractors, whom are generally treated with disgust and disdain by our government and its holier-than-thou contractors. Lately, however, I have been implementing my new, inappropriate words into my greetings, and I have never laughed so hard in my life. Picture me moving through the serving line at the chow hall......I see the tasty, mashed potatoes that I would like to be served....so, I say "Hello, Gandu! Mashed potatoes, please!" I immediately see confusion on his face. "what did this guy just say? did he really say, 'gandu'?" As I'm moving further through the line, I repeat the word to the next indian, with my next food request...."Hello, Gandu! Chicken, please! Shukria, gandu!" By this time, all of the servers behind the line are looking at eachother, trying to stifle and hide their imminent laughter, so I tell them "I learn 'Gandu'! 'Gandu' mean 'friend!". Upon hearing this, they are erupting in laughter, sidesplitting laughter. I keep a straight face, pretending not to understand why they are laughing at me, knowing all the while that I just called each of them "homo", in their native tongue. "Gandu" means "homo", in hindi. I walk away, continuing my act of ignorance, trying to hide my own smirk.
Today, I broadened my act with phrases, such as "Mae teri gand marunga", which I pretend to think means "How are you doing?" In reality, this means "I want to have sex with you." When this is used as part of a greeting, the reaction is priceless. Their initial look of disbelief and shock, followed by some of the loudest laughter I have ever heard, is so funny that I need to start filming these and posting them on youtube. I am funny.
2 comments:
I see your dealings with the savages continue despite my warnings from only one post ago. I also note with interest that many of the arabians have fallen under your tutelage and sway, humored with derogatory slurs in their native tongues that question their sexual orientation, thus establishing the beginnings of your cult following. Soon, with forethought to perimeter defense and a coastal front, you will begin contructing your base of operations using local villages for mass forced labor. Not long after, you will cease all communications with higher headquarters, throwing the command into a confused panic on what has become of Jimmy Pete. I suspect you will also place the heads of dead enemy fighters on pikes throughout your camp and take to going clad only in a loincloth on days when the weather grows hot and humid. Not the least among us assumed that you only meant to take on the ways of the savage, never to join him. However, at this point it seems that things have gone too far indeed. I plan to travel up river with a motely crew of Navy small boat crewman, all the while keeping my true mission a secret even from them.
On a side note, why is Sattar's belt hanging loose about his pants? --Matty
Hodgee comes to the United States from India, and he's only here a few months when he becomes very ill. He goes to doctor after doctor, but none of them can help him. Finally, he goes to an Indian doctor.
The doctor says, "Take dis bucket, go into de other room, shit in de bucket, piss on de shit, and then put your head down over de bucket and breathe in de fumes for ten minutes."
Hodgee takes the bucket, goes into the other room, shits in the bucket, pisses on the shit, bends over, and breathes in the fumes for ten minutes.
Then he comes back to the doctor and says, "It worked. I feel terrific. What was it?"
The doctor says, "You were homesick."
By the way...there is only one response to Matt...
"the horror...the horror", just kep saying it.
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