Yet more s–t my boyfriend says.

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Because I’m a huge nerd, stories about weird medical conditions fascinate me (especially the description of how the issue was diagnosed in the first place). And since my sweetheart is also a huge nerd, he likes to listen to excerpts.

A while back I shared this weird Washington Post medical article about a guy whose sore arm could have cost his life. The diagnosis was “acute compartment syndrome,” a situation in which the pressure inside muscles grows and cuts off blood flow to an entire limb. The poor fellow needed four surgeries during eight days in the hospital. Brrrr.

When I’d finished describing the article, DF said it reminded him of the condition sometimes afflicting train travelers who demand the best and most adorable berth on the train: a cute compartment syndrome.

As my friend Linda B. would say: Gah-ROAN.

One of the most appealing things about DF is his love for wordplay. He and I will embroider on each other’s puns until one of us feels queasy. Ultimately I started writing down the worst (best?) offenders, and back in February 2018 I published a collection of his bon mots and bad puns in the tradition of “Shit My Dad Says.”

(That was the name of a series of Tweets published by Justin Halpern. Later they became a book and eventually a TV show with William Shatner that didn’t last too long, even though the word “shit” was never uttered.)

Whenever he bursts out with another pun, I’ll tell him “that’s going on the list.” Not all of them do make the list, though; some are too obscure (or too smutty) for prime time.

You can read previous installments to get an idea of how my sweetheart’s mind works:

• S–t my boyfriend says
• More s–t my boyfriend says
• Still more s—t my boyfriend says

Or you can just dive right in and read this fourth installment. You’ve been warned.

 

This is one of those obscure examples, but I thought it was pretty damn funny:

On a recent good wash day DF decided to take the comforter out for an airing. Since the clothesline won’t hold a full load of laundry plus the comforter, he put it out on a makeshift line next to the greenhouse. “If you’re wondering where the comforter is, look for it on the side of caution,” he said.

 

 

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Kitchen pun-fidential:

I was stirring together a cake and murmured out loud, “…and a teaspoon of salt.” DF, who was sitting at the table eating raspberries, used his (licked-clean) spoon to tap me gently on the chest. “A teaspoon assault,” he said.

 

This one’s bloody awful:

From the Buy Nothing Facebook group in my area I got a free bag of something called maca powder. Among other claims, the product is supposed to help with “tired blood.” DF pointed out that after a certain amount of time the hospitals have to dump their expired sanguinary supplies: “Re-tired blood.”

 

Also on the subject of maca powder:

Upon seeing me add some maca to the blender for a breakfast smoothie, he mentioned having seen a news article about mixed martial arts fighters who are just addicted to the protein-rich powder. Thanks to corporate naming rights, they now compete in the “MacArena.”

 

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Arrrrrrr:

When I told him DF that I planned to bake pumpkin pie for March 14 (aka “Pi Day”), he pointed out that “When your bank gives you 3.14 percent interest, they call that the pi-rate.”

 

And speaking of pirates:

While I was doing my daily indoor walk the overture from “The Pirates of Penzance” came on the radio. A particularly catchy part got stuck in my head, and I mentioned this to DF. Who promptly replied, “Kind of like the meteorologist who was tracking a bad summer weather pattern and yelled out, ‘Gang, gang, the hail’s all here!’”

 

As I watched DF fry some eggs:

I was reminded of his previous pun about preferring eggs “the way Jesus had his: his yolk is easy.” When I spoke that out loud, DF asked if I’d heard about the guy who operated a diner and bar in the same building, and had a bad habit of watering the booze. “Customers tore the place apart one day, because his yolks were easy but his bourbon was light.”

 

At least he didn’t call him an “infant tree”:

Upon my mentioning Baby Groot from the second “Guardians of the Galaxy” movie, DF asked if I’d heard about the official classic car provided to all people who made legal and life decisions for those who were incapable. “They’re called ‘the Galaxies of the guardians’.”

 

Referencing the fact that drones might soon be delivering groceries:

DF suggested that the drone pilot would have a cool job, and maybe even a theme song. “He flies through the air with the greatest of eats.”

 

Fastest pun in the west:

I used the phrase “the great cycle of life” in a conversation. Seconds later he said, “I’m sure you know what they call the moss that grows on the roof of the psychology building at the university: ‘the great lichen of psych’.”

 

Gah-ROAN. Also: Swoooooon. Gotta love a guy who can mangle the language so skillfully, and so persistently.