Pretty Rambo: love him at your own risk.
March 7, 2005My husband now believes that if I ever leave him, he will have a bevy of Pretty Rambo groupies lining up to audition as my replacement. So listen up, ladies: he may be funny and clever and bearded, but he has his dark side. To wit:
He’s a talented impersonator, but he will never impersonate on command. This is maddening. Try telling him to do his Christopher Walken when you’re out with friends. He will not.
He knows more about B- and C-list actors from the '60s to the '80s than you could imagine. He can tell you the entire professional biography of Blue-Uniformed Guy #4 in Episode 38 of Star Trek, and then he will. Sometimes you’ll be trying to sleep while he’s telling you. Imagine it.
Hope that he never gets pink eye in your lifetime. According to Scott, pink eye is the dreaded scourge of this and any century, the Worst Affliction Ever. Once, while we were watching television, Scott turned to me and said, “My eye itches.” Then he paused to rub his eye. “Wow, my eye really itches,” he said. Then I watched him as he continued: “My eye really itches. Now that I think of it, both eyes itch. [Pause for frantic blinking.] MY EYES REALLY ITCH. Shit! Shit! I have pink eye! Shit! I can’t believe this! [More rubbing and blinking and shouting] I have pink eye! This is terrible! Don’t laugh! My eyes really itch! [Pause]… wait, wait. I think it’s okay. [blinking] Maybe they’re just itchy. They’re… yeah, they’re okay. Whew. I really thought I had pink eye. [looks at me] What’s so funny?”
You have been warned.
Reader Comments (37)
But you know, it went with the whole pink eye paranoia. My husband is 210% he has rib cage cancer.
We watched a special once on a meningitis outbreak in Canada (do I need to say who had the remote?), and they did a reenactment in which they showed the characteristic purple spots. My husband, in all seriousness, said, "Oh my God! Remember those purple spots I had on my leg last summer? Do you think ... ?"
I'm normally very sympathetic. This time, all I could say was, "Well, did you GET meningitis?"
my kids are freaked out about west nile virus. like unbelievably spoooked. i struggle with letting them use deet but because the oldest is such a hypo, the other join in on the paranoia. they didn't get this paranoia from me, I louge partially naked in the mesh hammock all summer.
and tell him to take a gander over here if he wants to get a clue about the real thing. "Itchy"—pfffffffffft.
*runs out of her office and straight to the doctors office*
Really though, it did make my eyes itch.
Anyway, what a wimp! Pink eye is nothing. Wait until he sees a cable tv show about swimmers itch.
Plus, I do understand the inability to perform on command. Everytime I do give in a perform something 'funny' on command my husband says, "no no no...that's not it." then I do it 100 more times and it's never quite right.
Well, okay, I guess they are.
He also has an obsession with admiring his ass in a three-way mirror, the kind they have in a lot of department stores. It's dangerous to take him shopping, because he will immediately beeline to the mirror and turn his head slightly, looking over his shoulder into the abyss of ass-ness, and admire from various angles. Although the gay salesmen don't seem to mind. . .
I think young women are imbued with extra strength when they discover that they will soon begin cramping and bleeding profusely every 28 days... and they are just expected to deal with that.
And by the way, Pink eye is like syphillis of the face. It is awful. I've had it like 5 times. Worst part is that when you stay home you can't even watch TV, except for that one time I had a small case of pink eye, and me and my mom went to go see a movie. We saw "Screwed" with Norm Macdonald, and it made me giggle...
THE END!
He does, on the other hand, oblige us with his excellent rendition of James Hetfield reading the Bible