mr_bill
Active Member
I found this funny, and I've removed the foul language. Hope you all enjoy as much as I did.
Hello, dammit.
About six-months ago, I walked into the local gym and overheard two fellows having a discussion about something that they kept referring to (albeit in hushed and overawed tones) as "Shrimp Louie." It was a relatively short conversation and went something like this:
"Shrimp Louie, man...he F***ING ROCKS, dude."
"Way, dude."
"Did you see him whack that fish, bro? He slew it, dude. It was E-V-I-L."
"Way, dude."
"And the way he F***ING looks at you, dude. It's like he knows something you don't...know what I'm saying, bro?"
"Way, dude."
"Dude, he F***ING CHOPPED TODD IN THE FINGER, DUDE! DID YOU SEE HIS F***ING FINGER?!?"
"Dude, I saw it. It was tore up, dude."
"The shrimp is evil, dude."
"Way."
Obviously, after listening in to a verbal tête-à-tête of this rare calibre, my curiosity was thoroughly piqued.
I walked over, introduced myself, and asked them what in the hell they could possibly be talking about. After a short introduction, they proceeded to tell me their story, with awed tones and fascinated gleams in their eyes.
To make a painfully long story quite a bit shorter, “Shrimp Louie” is not a shrimp at all, but rather a stomatopod (fancy term for one mean, mean sea creature that only vaguely resembles a shrimp at all, and is often referred to by lay-persons as a Mantis-Shrimp). This particular stomatopod, it turns out, was recently captured by their “homie” Todd after he mistakenly attempted to remove it from its perch upon his line during a deep-sea fishing trip. Apparently, Todd thought that a medium sized lobster had somehow fouled his hook and he decided to try and wrangle it off of the line with his bare hand. Todd received nine stitches, a broken index finger on his right hand and a further four more stitches in his right wrist for that mistake. The sound of the creature striking Todd’s hand was likened to that of a firecracker detonating, and the speed of its motion characterized as far too fast for the
[hr]
eye to perceive.
(If you’ve no prior knowledge of these creatures, I urge you to stop and do a quick google search just to catch the gist of what I’m rappin’ ‘bout.)
Wow. With a buildup like that, you know I had to immediately go out and get one, right? Yeah, baby…Red’s always thinking.
The process was considerably more involved then you might, at first, believe. First of all, no fish-store owner in his right mind would actually want one of these things in his store. They’re killers, man. Haven’t I convinced you yet? To compound the problem, no two fish-store owners can bring themselves to agree on anything, ever. Furthermore, no fish-store owner anywhere in the country seems to be able to speak anything other than pidgin english. They’re all from some tiny island off the coast of mainland China or something. The only thing that I was able to reliably decode with any degree of constancy was the term, “ HUNLED DORRA!!!!” This term is ALWAYS shouted as loudly as possible, and is the standard answer whenever you ask about the price of ANYTHING at all, be it fish food, fish, or whatever. Interestingly enough, it’s also frequently prefaced with the terms, “TOO, SLEEE, FO, or FIE (also shouted at stroke-inducingly loud levels)” whenever you inquire about the cost of anything that even remotely looks as though you might actually want to take it home with you.
Right. That in mind, here’s what happened to me when I went out to buy my “shrimp.”
Fish-Store Guy #1:
I walk in and inform him that I intend to purchase a saltwater set-up to house a mantis shrimp. I ask to give me a rough, ballpark estimate of what the price will be. Before I can finish, he screams “FIE HUNLED DORRA!!!!”
I retort with, “Yes, er…but what’s the budget option?”
He screams, “ARRRLEDDY CHEEEEP! FIE HUNLED DORRA!!!!!!”
As I turn to leave, he stops me, procures a pad and pencil, busts what looks like two fast games of tic-tac-toe on his pad, and gives me a whole new set of prices sans all the screaming and references to “Hunled Dorra’s.”
cont. next post..........
Hello, dammit.
About six-months ago, I walked into the local gym and overheard two fellows having a discussion about something that they kept referring to (albeit in hushed and overawed tones) as "Shrimp Louie." It was a relatively short conversation and went something like this:
"Shrimp Louie, man...he F***ING ROCKS, dude."
"Way, dude."
"Did you see him whack that fish, bro? He slew it, dude. It was E-V-I-L."
"Way, dude."
"And the way he F***ING looks at you, dude. It's like he knows something you don't...know what I'm saying, bro?"
"Way, dude."
"Dude, he F***ING CHOPPED TODD IN THE FINGER, DUDE! DID YOU SEE HIS F***ING FINGER?!?"
"Dude, I saw it. It was tore up, dude."
"The shrimp is evil, dude."
"Way."
Obviously, after listening in to a verbal tête-à-tête of this rare calibre, my curiosity was thoroughly piqued.
I walked over, introduced myself, and asked them what in the hell they could possibly be talking about. After a short introduction, they proceeded to tell me their story, with awed tones and fascinated gleams in their eyes.
To make a painfully long story quite a bit shorter, “Shrimp Louie” is not a shrimp at all, but rather a stomatopod (fancy term for one mean, mean sea creature that only vaguely resembles a shrimp at all, and is often referred to by lay-persons as a Mantis-Shrimp). This particular stomatopod, it turns out, was recently captured by their “homie” Todd after he mistakenly attempted to remove it from its perch upon his line during a deep-sea fishing trip. Apparently, Todd thought that a medium sized lobster had somehow fouled his hook and he decided to try and wrangle it off of the line with his bare hand. Todd received nine stitches, a broken index finger on his right hand and a further four more stitches in his right wrist for that mistake. The sound of the creature striking Todd’s hand was likened to that of a firecracker detonating, and the speed of its motion characterized as far too fast for the
[hr]
eye to perceive.
(If you’ve no prior knowledge of these creatures, I urge you to stop and do a quick google search just to catch the gist of what I’m rappin’ ‘bout.)
Wow. With a buildup like that, you know I had to immediately go out and get one, right? Yeah, baby…Red’s always thinking.
The process was considerably more involved then you might, at first, believe. First of all, no fish-store owner in his right mind would actually want one of these things in his store. They’re killers, man. Haven’t I convinced you yet? To compound the problem, no two fish-store owners can bring themselves to agree on anything, ever. Furthermore, no fish-store owner anywhere in the country seems to be able to speak anything other than pidgin english. They’re all from some tiny island off the coast of mainland China or something. The only thing that I was able to reliably decode with any degree of constancy was the term, “ HUNLED DORRA!!!!” This term is ALWAYS shouted as loudly as possible, and is the standard answer whenever you ask about the price of ANYTHING at all, be it fish food, fish, or whatever. Interestingly enough, it’s also frequently prefaced with the terms, “TOO, SLEEE, FO, or FIE (also shouted at stroke-inducingly loud levels)” whenever you inquire about the cost of anything that even remotely looks as though you might actually want to take it home with you.
Right. That in mind, here’s what happened to me when I went out to buy my “shrimp.”
Fish-Store Guy #1:
I walk in and inform him that I intend to purchase a saltwater set-up to house a mantis shrimp. I ask to give me a rough, ballpark estimate of what the price will be. Before I can finish, he screams “FIE HUNLED DORRA!!!!”
I retort with, “Yes, er…but what’s the budget option?”
He screams, “ARRRLEDDY CHEEEEP! FIE HUNLED DORRA!!!!!!”
As I turn to leave, he stops me, procures a pad and pencil, busts what looks like two fast games of tic-tac-toe on his pad, and gives me a whole new set of prices sans all the screaming and references to “Hunled Dorra’s.”
cont. next post..........
