This past Christmas season--can I say that--my lovely wife E and I were at a HOLIDAY party. Around our table were my brother C and sister-in-law S, my rockstar ex-roommate D and his date, plus two other couples; more than enough people to keep the conversation lively and interesting.
I don't remember exactly how I turned the conversation around to performing coat hanger abortions, but no sooner had the words left my mouth when I realised my brother and I were the only ones laughing. D may have been smiling. But one of the girls at the table, one whom I had only just met over dinner, was as far from sharing the joke as she could be.
I quickly changed the subject.
After dinner, my lovely wife E scolded me for letting my sometimes dark sense of humour ruin a perfectly nice evening. She put a moritorium on all 'alley abortion' content in mixed company until further notice. So now, like caviar, my wealth of "humourous" quips (which few ever enjoyed to begin with) will no longer be served.
This follows relatively close on the heels of my first Stand up Comedy experience at Brian's Corktown Comedy Nights at Betty's wherein I made a Sharon Tate joke (which bombed) and then tried to recover by throwing her unborn baby into the mix. There again, the only person who laughed was my brother C. Birds of a feather. . .
I will now only make derogatory jokes about Barney. That's still funny, right?
Dude is fucked up.