So I get an email from someone that was reading some of the older posts on here.
I will quote (with selective editing and paraphrasing to make me look good)
EMAIL: "Nice post about the holocaust...sitting here laughing."
Now when I get an email like that it kinda makes my day.
When someone laughs at The Holocaust you know we have another mental patient here.
But then I thought what Holocaust post?
I had no idea what they were talking about.
So I did a search.
It seems I've done six posts about "The Holocaust" over the years.
I remembered none of them.
Never forget.
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3 comments:
Wouldja lookit that...I'm strangely proud of you: googling "I aint no oprah" holocaust actually gets three pages of hits. And they're all you.
*wild applause*
(Beatles gets three pages of hits, too...long live the Beatles game!)
p.s.
Put some pants on.
True story: One of my kids went to Israel as part of the Maccabee ("Jewish olympic") games.
Part of the event was the obligatory tour of the holocaust museum. Lots of somber dreariness. He says to a guide:
"One of my great uncles died at Auschwitz. He was a guard, got drunk and fell out of a tower."
One of the kid's team-mates took a nice picture of him being escorted out of the museum.
He was wearing pants.
"Roberta Schnabel is not my real name, it's the name of someone my brother-in-law used to date. She came from Brooklyn. Noo Yawk. Wouldn't even tawk to someone like Nopie. Not kosher. No soap, radio.
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