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baroque_mongooseI am improving; not quite there yet, but definitely on the mend now. While the salty snacks are helping both physically and psychologically, I think it's the overhydration that is really doing the job. Taking in more liquid than your body really needs is the most effective way to raise your blood pressure that I've found so far. (Well, that is to say, more than it regularly needs; obviously the extra is needed right now for the purpose of getting my blood pressure back up. But you know what I mean, I think.)
But that's not the main thing I want to talk about. I have mentioned Porthos here before; he is not merely a very fine semi-pro countertenor and a gentleman of considerable style (I know nobody who can rock a fancy waistcoat to such effect), but he is also... let us say... a natural Elizabethan. He can flip from the sacred to the (often extremely) profane in the blink of an eye and with the fluency of a Shakespeare, which can be kind of disconcerting at times, but... hey, that's who he is.
So, last night I was in a conversation on the main SCA Discord server. It started off being about medical and health care issues (two of the people chatting were nurses, and of course I have rather more hospital experience than I'd really like), and then one of the two nurses was so astonished at something that he used some rather stronger language than he normally would on Discord. Which sparked a conversation about strong language in general, and that led inevitably onto the subject of bawdy jokes (only one of which, thankfully, was actually told). It was at this point that we were joined by... well, I'll give his SCA name, which is Ingvar; he is actually Swedish, but he's also fluent in English, and I met him in person at the recent Crown Tournament. Nice bloke. Looks a bit like Father Christmas. I didn't realise quite how mucky he was capable of being. Let's just say he was the one who told the actual bawdy joke.
Ingvar was easily able to explain to me a few things I've always wondered about, in particular the significance of the line "that's what she said". Apparently it's the punchline to a whole set of bawdy jokes, including the one Ingvar told. I said, "It's... not a very good punchline, is it?" He replied that that was kind of the point. And I thought... oh, right, but at least now I know why people kind of laugh knowingly when they say that. Even if I still don't understand why a not-very-good punchline is the point. (I have zero problem with other kinds of joke, but the dirty ones are riffing on a whole area in which I have next to no interest. It's pretty much as if it was very popular to tell jokes about Formula 1 motor racing. I doubt I'd make much sense of any of those either.)
At length Ingvar made a comment to the effect that the only problem he had with other people's brains being in the gutter was that they blocked the view from his periscope, to which my immediate reaction was "ROFL!", followed closely by "this bloke would get on famously well with Porthos". So I e-mailed Porthos with the intention of putting them in touch, and told Ingvar that I had done so.
The penny dropped overnight at Ingvar's end. This morning, he thought he knew who Porthos was. A few further snippets of information and the fact was established: the pair of them had actually known each other for 25 years. I don't know by what name Porthos knows Ingvar, though, which is probably why he hasn't yet replied to my original e-mail. Naturally I sent him another explaining what I'd found out.
I'm glad they do know each other. Nonetheless, if I'm in the same room with the pair of them I'll probably have to get well clear!
But that's not the main thing I want to talk about. I have mentioned Porthos here before; he is not merely a very fine semi-pro countertenor and a gentleman of considerable style (I know nobody who can rock a fancy waistcoat to such effect), but he is also... let us say... a natural Elizabethan. He can flip from the sacred to the (often extremely) profane in the blink of an eye and with the fluency of a Shakespeare, which can be kind of disconcerting at times, but... hey, that's who he is.
So, last night I was in a conversation on the main SCA Discord server. It started off being about medical and health care issues (two of the people chatting were nurses, and of course I have rather more hospital experience than I'd really like), and then one of the two nurses was so astonished at something that he used some rather stronger language than he normally would on Discord. Which sparked a conversation about strong language in general, and that led inevitably onto the subject of bawdy jokes (only one of which, thankfully, was actually told). It was at this point that we were joined by... well, I'll give his SCA name, which is Ingvar; he is actually Swedish, but he's also fluent in English, and I met him in person at the recent Crown Tournament. Nice bloke. Looks a bit like Father Christmas. I didn't realise quite how mucky he was capable of being. Let's just say he was the one who told the actual bawdy joke.
Ingvar was easily able to explain to me a few things I've always wondered about, in particular the significance of the line "that's what she said". Apparently it's the punchline to a whole set of bawdy jokes, including the one Ingvar told. I said, "It's... not a very good punchline, is it?" He replied that that was kind of the point. And I thought... oh, right, but at least now I know why people kind of laugh knowingly when they say that. Even if I still don't understand why a not-very-good punchline is the point. (I have zero problem with other kinds of joke, but the dirty ones are riffing on a whole area in which I have next to no interest. It's pretty much as if it was very popular to tell jokes about Formula 1 motor racing. I doubt I'd make much sense of any of those either.)
At length Ingvar made a comment to the effect that the only problem he had with other people's brains being in the gutter was that they blocked the view from his periscope, to which my immediate reaction was "ROFL!", followed closely by "this bloke would get on famously well with Porthos". So I e-mailed Porthos with the intention of putting them in touch, and told Ingvar that I had done so.
The penny dropped overnight at Ingvar's end. This morning, he thought he knew who Porthos was. A few further snippets of information and the fact was established: the pair of them had actually known each other for 25 years. I don't know by what name Porthos knows Ingvar, though, which is probably why he hasn't yet replied to my original e-mail. Naturally I sent him another explaining what I'd found out.
I'm glad they do know each other. Nonetheless, if I'm in the same room with the pair of them I'll probably have to get well clear!
