Your mom has a highly original running joke.
We have a highly original running joke at work. Our level of humor is so advanced that perhaps you cannot understand, but I will try to explain.
Person A says something, anything. Person B, if able, repeats what person A just stated, but prepends it with the phrase “Your mom”. Person A, or any other persons around, then rates Person B’s “Your mom” statement, with a level of “snaps”. A weak “Your mom” might earn a groan or a “SNA”. A particularly excellent “Your mom” gets an “Oooh! SNAP!”
We all have our own gimmicks. Jordan excels at ones that sound like innuendo. Alex is very good at noting when “Your mom” opportunities are missed. Me? My schtick is the “Your mom” that makes no sense, which is why the following e-mail exchange delighted me enough that I decided I would blog the exchange plus write three full paragraphs of backstory:
—–Original Message—–
From: Jordan
Sent: Thursday, July 28, 2005 10:01 AM
To: Leia
Subject: Traffic makes me sad.
I’m not even south of LBJ yet.
—–Original Message—–
From: Leia
To: Jordan
Sent: Thu Jul 28 11:01:19 2005
Subject: RE: Traffic makes me sad.
Your mom isn’t even south of LBJ yet.
—–Original Message—–
From: Jordan
Sent: Thursday, July 28, 2005 10:02 AM
To: Leia
Subject: Re: Traffic makes me sad.
Oooooooooooooooh. SNAP!!
All those o’s aren’t easy to type on a blackberry.
I’m wondering…How could I send at 10:00 AM, you send at 11:01 AM, and then me reply by 10:02 AM….something is a a little kooky.
In college we had a running joke that whenever we would get in the car and someone would say “where are we going?” the driver would say “your momma’s house.” This developed into “What are we doing?” Followed by “Your momma.” Or, my personal favorite, “Guess what.” Answered with “Your momma.”
Not as random and sophisticated a system, but strangely similar.
Jordan, you’re the sysadmin. Seems like your problem.
Katie, your mom is not as random and sophisticated a system, but strangely similar.
Snap.
Nice use of prepend. 20 Scrabble points to you.
I used to work at this place where the running joke was to stop by someone’s cubical and say “Hey, your Mom called, she said **insert personal insult**.” Which spread like wildfire and got shortened over time to “Hey your Mom called.” Soon after that you could just look at someone, then place your thumb and pinky to your ear and mouth as if you were in fact, talking on the phone to their Mom. 27 going on 13. Fun times.
It sort of reminds me of that time when Dante and Randal went to work at the convenience store in Britain…
Dante: “It wasn’t until years later when we found out what a ‘fag’ was…”
Randal: “You’re a fag.”
Dante: “No, a fag’s a cigarette.”
Randal: “You’re a cigarette.”
MySpace was just asking for it when they included the topic “Who I’d Like to Meet”. While the common folk go on about their types, their wants, their desires…the only appropriate response is of course, “Your Mom”.