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Seven Words You Can Never Say On Television

docoflove1974

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Dreams can be funny things. Personally, the vivid dreams that I remember are all very linear--they make out like a normal story, just with some interesting elements. But not last night...or was it this morning?

 

The other odd thing is that I can't remember much of it, most assuredly because of the fact that it was so random. What I do remember is that I was arguing with a guy about something (I can't even tell you what about), while in the background Andrew Dice Clay is doing his "Hickory Dickory Dock" schtick. (If you don't know it, go ahead and YouTube it...but be forewarned, not only is it not work safe, I dare say it's not safe at all.)

 

Comedy has always been something that I sought out, and it wasn't until graduate school that I understood. The good comedians, the real story tellers who twist language to make it hilarious, are really a type of linguist--semanticist, to be more to the point. The whole element of comedy is taking something and making it funny because of meaning (or pronunciation, but that's mimicry...phonology has its place, as does sociolinguistics, but most don't go into that.) Bill Cosby was the story teller that we were 'allowed' to listen to as kids, because he worked clean, but my parents had tapes of Robin Williams and George Carlin, not to mention that my dad loved Richard Pryor. I remember being about 12 and sneaking into my parents' drawer of tapes in the entertainment unit in the living room, just so that I could swipe the Robin Williams Live at the Met tape or the two George Carlin ones...I'd steal away to my bedroom, close the door (well, mostly...those were the rules), and giggle away in delight while listening to Robin and George riff on various topics. Loved it!

 

(Of course, my parents knew that I was doing it, particularly my mom...but they never let on. It did burst my bubble years later when they told me that they knew I was doing it...and didn't mind. Dammit...go ahead and spoil my fun and childhood memories...)

 

When Andrew Dice Clay blew up big, I was just entering high school. Not only did he cuss, but he was crude, raunchy...all the things that a newly-minted teenager loved! But even a handful of years later, when my then-boyfriend would listen to his Dice CDs in the car, I had already lost my taste for that brand of comedy. Actually, I didn't find it to be comedy...it wasn't smart or clever, nor was it even vaguely humorous. It was just gross, like watching some dumbasses trying to reenact Beavis and Butthead in real life.

 

"But, I don't get it...you loved this in high school!" my then-love-of-my-life noted.

 

"Meh, I guess I grew out of it...it's pretty bad, dude."

 

Fast-forward to last night...and why in the hell would I have a dream where Andrew Dice Clay was performing in the background??? What the hell??

 

As we speak, I'm setting up iTunes with all the George Carlin I have...that'll last me a few hours :)


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