By INIGO 'NAUGHTY' ZENICAZELAYA
It’s amazing what stories end up being told, or resurrected, when real stand up comedians are at the bar trading ‘life stories’ downing shots of their favourite libation in abundance. Here are three stories from my life, that make me laugh every time I reminisce about my younger days. I’m quite sure, they will give all of you a chuckle.
Owww! My Shin!!
When I was a kid, I was always excited to learn new vocabulary. When I was in first grade, my teacher taught me that “shin” was another word for leg.
Later that day, I was playing in the yard at home while my mom was gardening, when I tripped and hit my leg on the ground (concrete to be exact) and really hard I might add.
Upon impact, I instantly yelled out
“OW, MY SHIN!” Somehow, my mom heard, “OW, MY...(some other word that sounds close to shin but that I definitely did not say)!”
My mom went in on me, faster than Nancy Pelosi on Trump, yelling about how that was a filthy word and we don’t say that word period, and, of course, she was going to wash my mouth out with soap.
I was a crying, bawling mess of tears and snot. I even got to the point where I was doing that weird cry-stutter-hiccup noise.
My mom paused briefly from chastising me and said,
“Who taught you that word?!”
Of course, I told the truth and said
“M-m-my teacher t-t-t-taught me that word!”
Instantly, my mom started ranting about how she was going to call the school and get that teacher fired!
I tried to explain, “T-te-teacher said that shin meant leg I’m SO SORRY ILL N-N-NE-ne-never say it again.”
My mom got quiet and realised her mistake.
“.......What did you say.”?
At this point I started using psychology, I started crying harder and said
“NO it’s just a test, you’re going to wash my mouth out with soap again.”
When I finally calmed down enough to say it again, my mom apologised, and up until the day she passed away, whenever something dramatic happened I would always shout “Shin!” loudly just to see the look on her face.
One time in 8th grade we were at recess, and while I was running to my friends, I just so happened to kick a HUGE rock (keep in mind, it was uniform release day, and I was wearing flip-flops so it hurt like in a major way) and without thinking, I shouted at the top of my lungs, “MUUDDA...FADDA!”
(Except, since I’m being honest, I didn’t say ‘fadda’ that day. Instead I did drop the biggest ten-pound word I knew).
And with my awesome luck, my English teacher, Mr Gordon Mills, was sitting on the bench right beside me.
He then took me inside to what I thought was going to be a detention, but once indoors he just couldn’t stop laughing, and then sent me back outside with a candy bar.
To this day, he’s still my favourite teacher.
Gas could kill some of ‘yinna’
I have a friend, who I’ve known since I was knee high to a grasshopper, who also happens to be well known in the community, so shall remain nameless.
One day, when we were both ten, I was at his house when he got this absolutely wretched stomach pain.
I mean, he was literally writhing in pain.
So, his mom took him to the doctor’s office, where the doctor took one look and told her to take him to the ER.
She feared something along the lines of an intestinal issue or a ruptured appendix. About half way to the hospital, on Shirley Street, opposite what used to be ‘Sabre Drug Store’ and the Post Office, my boy let rip the loudest, most powerful ‘carbonic wind‘ any of us had ever heard.
As God as my witness, my boy levitated, from the air pressure build up.
I thought for sure that the upholstery in the car seat had ripped.
After a good thirty seconds of an intense fit of flatulence, he looked at his mom and said, “I feel all better now!”