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Dallas, Texas, United States

Thursday, April 24, 2008

F Me Running


Heh. I've been hankering to post this picture ever since I took it lo, back in December 2006, when Merv & I found ourselves in Chelsea, NYC. We were on our way to meet some friends for dinner and I saw this sign. You New Yorkers may already know how the sales people at this fine establishment answer the phone, but I'm at a loss. Either way, my warped mind went where most of my readers' minds are going and I can't figure out how they get away with that.

But that is neither here nor there. Whatever that means. Matter of fact, I've always wanted to say that, too.

That is neither here nor there.

Damn, two things in one day. I must be livin' on borrowed time.

Nevertheless, last weekend, as I rode with Alec Roeser and lil bro Doug from RundgrenRadio (can I push this radio show any more?) from the Peachtree State (what's up with calling every street Peachtree anyways?) to South Carolina on our way to catch another Todd Rundgren concert, we began discussing the various origins of use of the word "fuck."

Whoa, don't even think about flinching. You know I've got a potty mouth - I just tamp it down at times...unfortunately this leads to a waxy build-up and eventual explosion at the most inopportune times.

Let me 'splain. A week or so ago, I had my arms full of stuff, including a newly opened can of nectar of the Gods - Diet Coke. I fumbled with the key to my door, unlocked my refuge, started to close the door and bent over to give CruiserDog a snuggle.

Yup - poor CruiserDog was then cascaded with a waterfall of Diet Coke and a barrage of the following words: "WELL FUCK ME!"

*click*
Yup, the door closed after my announcement to the world. Nice. Score another one for my neighbors who are already intrigued by the wild parties they think I throw every night.

I cleaned up CruiserDog and the floor and walls that had been sprinkled with Diet Coke and went about my business: checking the mail, feeding the dog, changing clothes - when suddenly, I whacked the bony part of my hand on the corner of the kitchen counter.

"WELL FUCK ME AGAIN!"

I snickered, thinking that if anyone was approaching my front door, they surely had backed away, not wanting to disturb me gettin' some - apparently for the second time and I'd only been home 10 minutes.
I was telling Doug about this story when he told me how his boss always says "FUCK ME RUNNING!"

Okay. Herein lies the purpose of this entry and I need your help. What does "fuck me running" actually mean?

No, seriously - who would've ever coined that phrase in the first place? It's not like you could possibly do that while jogging. Can you? Can you? We couldn't figure it out. Really, I'm perplexed. This is keeping me up at night and quite possibly causing undue stress on me.

The only thing giving me any peace is that I was finally able to use this photo on the blog. It's a good thing.

4 comments:

KP said...

I say that all the time, dork. But according to the urban dictionary, it's another way of saying "well I'll be damned". Check it out... http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=well+fuck+me+running

And show me some love. I've blogged like 4 or 5 times now & you never visit anymore. Hmph. MOH my arse. :)

CruiserMel said...

Leave it to KP to point out the dumb-ass quotient I have exhibited herein. But in defense of myself, I believe this whole entry was rhetorical. So, fuck me runnin. ;)

Golightly said...

I never heard that term before, huh! It sounds so ewww. And I love to say old timey sayings like its neither here nor there, too :)

Unknown said...

Damn :-( I was really hoping to discover the origin, fuck me running, what a bummer!