A father buys a lie detector robot that slaps you when you lie. He decides to test it out on his son at supper.
“Where were you last night?”
“I was at the library.” The robot slaps the son.
“Okay, I was at a friend’s house,” the son admits.
“Doing what?” asked the father.
“Watching a movie: Toy Story.” The robot slaps the son.
“Okay, it was porn!” cried the son.
The father yells. “What? When I was your age, I
didn’t know what porn was!” The robot slaps the father.
The mother laughs and says, “He certainly is your son!” The robot slaps the mother.
Whenever I feel like a boring person, I think of some of the out of character things I have done and gain odd satisfaction.
I showed up drunk for my last undergraduate tutorial (‘the younger Romantics’, English Lit) because it was the night after the American presidential election where Bush won AGAIN and I drank nearly a whole bottle of Raspberry Vodka and I’m pretty sure a few other drinks, just to get through.
In a spinning, overheated room of about 10 people I got into a heated argument with a colonialist ijit about Greece’s rights to the Elgin Marbles. Finest hour in any class.
Or the time I was interrogated by Prince William’s ‘secret police’ as we called them (actually just bodyguards) about why there had just been an explosion and why was I and my friend out of breath?
We had just been filming a short movie for a contest. I was dressed as a ‘chosen one’, all in black with a bandana on. My friend was a man with a big beard in a charity shop dress. The big finale had involved fireworks.
The only response I could think on my feet was ‘well, it’s been hectic’. They let us go, probably with great bemusement. All the film crew went into hiding - by going back to one hall of residence and watching stuff on the computer, warily looking through the windows for signs of trouble.