Wicked Pissa Matzoh
Last Saturday D and I were at a gay bar where we made up a fun new game. This will only really mean something to you if you are from Massatwoshits, or are for some ungodly reason, some sort of Bostoniaphile. But we each had to name as many Massachusetts suburbs as we could, in Boston accents. We are both from Boston, so it's okay that we did this. Otherwise it would be racist. About fifteen minutes into the play I bellowed, "BILLERICA." D lost his drink down the front of his shirt and I won the game.
It reminded me of this one time during college when my friend walked into a hick-town bar in the middle of nowhere and realized that a large group of men surrounding the pool table were playing a rousing round of Name The Jew Name Game. They were shouting random Jewish sounding names and then laughing hysterically. "Steinberg!" "Goldberg!" "Rabinowitz!" At that point, my friend, who happens to be Jewish, pasted on a fake Hitler mustache before slipping out through the tiny window in the bathroom and running away.
