Freudian Slips: Doctor Dolittle

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Location: Irony, New Jersey, United States

Life takes us many places. It's a box of chocolates and a Hansel and Gretal trail of candy wrappers. I have filmed as an actor in The Happening, Invincible, The Lovely Bones, The Bounty Hunter, The Greek American, Bazookas, Limitless, TV's Its Always Sunny in Philly, Outlaw, New York, The Warrior, The Nail, Game Change, Cold Case, & commercial work includes The Philadelphia Eagles, Septa, Coors, Turbo Tax & Carnival Cruises. Freudian Slips spotlights irony in short story format.

April 28, 2005

Doctor Dolittle

I got to thinking about all the times I made a fool of myself. I have no shortage of foolish memories on tap. Some were funny, some were embarrassing, and some a spoonful of both. All my foolish experiences, however, regrettably remain a part of my life. Here is one trinket of foolishness.
I graduated high school in 1980. It was a big party year. The world appeared at my footsteps and there were times I treaded none too lightly. I overindulged in barley and hops the summer after my high school graduation. I frequented local bars, taverns, and disco infernos. I wore clingy muscle shirts and Calvin Klien jeans that would no longer fit over my calves. I loved the taste of beer so much you could catch me licking foam from the lip of beer bottles.
Somehow drinking one beer at a time became too slow a process. I cannot take credit for its invention but my irresponsible sudsy era was highlighted by making a beer bong out of a milk jug, clear plastic tubing, and hardware. The beer bong was speed drinking for professionals like me. It enabled me to chug-a-lug a gallon of beer in less than ten seconds then piss like a race horse at the nearest trough. Silly foolishness and inconceivable bloating now but what a rush for a lush back then. Okay, that sets the table for a twenty five year old foolish story.
Around two o'clock in the morning, I arrive home in my gold 1979 Chevrolet Camaro. I am borderline intoxicated with the last few Miller beers invading my bladder. The house is dark except for a lone street light. I pray that my parents are sound asleep. I hear a jingle and a shake of fur to my left. My eyes squint to see our dog, Daisy, staked on the leash of a chain. It seemed a given that somebody must have mistakenly left her outside all night. I figured I should better check to make sure.
So I asked Daisy, "What are you doing out here?" It was a rhetorical question that beckons no answer from a dog.
"I don't know Joe. What are you doing out here?"
I stopped dead in my tracks in the middle of the front yard. The dog spoke to me in a gruff Scooby Doo voice. What the heck is going on? I thought to myself. I got to go easy on the bottle because the dog is talking to me. In my inebriated state, I could barely speak decent English and the pooch just asked me a sarcastic question.
"Joe. How was your night out?" asked the dog.
Whoa Nellie! Not again. The dog just asked me a personal question. What the? This can't be happening. The dog talked to me not once but twice and now sits wagging its tail as if it were no big deal.
I promise myself to give up drinking, go to church, and see a psychiatrist all in the same breath. I was on the road to sobriety and rehabilitation when I heard laughing. I turned around but nobody was there. More laughing, the deep kind of body shaking laughing you only hear a few times a year. My prankster brother, John, rolled himself out from a curled stowaway position under our mother's car. He was nearly pissing himself laughing. The dog was not.
Sometimes when you Dolittle but drink, it does a lot in the making of a fool.

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12 Comments:

Blogger justrose said...

ah! memories.

8:35 PM  
Blogger PaxRomano said...

that puts me in a musical mood:
If I could talk to the animals, just imagine it,
Chattin' with a chimp in chimpanzee,
Imagine talking to a tiger, chatting with a cheetah,
What a neat achievement it would be!

10:38 PM  
Blogger Joe Tornatore said...

justrose,
the difference is you are fitting into those skinny jeans again. I am not. Do you realize the number of times we blog about the same thing in the same week? It is uncanny.

Pax,
I was trying to think of those words for my post, you creative mind you.

11:03 PM  
Blogger Lost said...

Hehehehehe that story could only have been better if your brother had managed to get a picture of your face while the "dog" was talking to you LOL

6:13 AM  
Blogger Joe Tornatore said...

Lost,
My brother just happened to be outside when I pulled up in my car. The prank was completely spontaneous. I can tell by your camera comment, that if you were my sister, you would have a lot of dirt on me.

7:52 AM  
Blogger Donatella said...

hey good work great site..ill blog u laters...

8:28 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Your brother told me this story the next day and he was still pissing himself. Love, ET

9:36 AM  
Blogger Joe Tornatore said...

Donatella,
Hope you come back. There are plenty of laughs to be had at my expense.

ET,
I'm glad you were able to confirm the veracity of the series of unfortunate events.

6:30 PM  
Blogger Tony said...

That story is hilarious!!!!! :-)

5:24 PM  
Blogger Joe Tornatore said...

Tony,
Glad to throw readers a bone.

10:56 PM  
Blogger portuguesa nova said...

ha! Is 10 a.m. on a Sunday too early for a drink?

10:49 AM  
Blogger Joe Tornatore said...

Portugese Nova,
I burned out like a super nova. That is the irony. I rarely drink at all now. Thanks for visiting.

11:06 AM  

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