more fan-hitting

Wilson Gray hwgray at GMAIL.COM
Mon Oct 13 06:23:52 UTC 2008

Thanks! Believe it or not, I'd never heard original story, before,
only the one of the feghoots of it.

Shaggy-dog stories are also, rare. A grade-school classmate told me
that one that ended:

A; And you know what it was?
B. Naw.
A. All this bull I'm shittin' you!

I was caught so completely off guard that I remember nothing of the story.

I didn't hear another till I was in the Army. It was told by the
person that I first heard use, "How ADJ is that?" the same guy who was
astounded to hear a Southern cook tell him to "Git _you_ a tray." The
story was called "The Sleeve Job," which was some incredibly gross,
but extremely rare, exciting form of, sex. After a long, long search,
the protagonist finally finds, on the waterfront, an old, broken-down
whore, depraved and desperate enough that, for a fee, she's willing to
demonstrate the sleeve job. But, first, he must take a shower.
Unfortunately, in his eagerness to get started on the sleeve job, he
slips on the soap and breaks his neck, dying instantly.


On Sun, Oct 12, 2008 at 1:27 AM, Baker, John <JMB at> wrote:
> ---------------------- Information from the mail header -----------------------
> Sender:       American Dialect Society <ADS-L at LISTSERV.UGA.EDU>
> Poster:       "Baker, John" <JMB at STRADLEY.COM>
> Subject:      Re: more fan-hitting
> -------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> Since Gerald hasn't answered yet, I'll provide the version I know.  The =
> joke isn't very commonly told, considering there are so many references =
> to it.  It goes back at least to World War II and is probably older, =
> though it obviously cannot predate the widespread use of electric fans.
> =20
> Our tale is set in a restaurant, an old-fashioned establishment by =
> contemporary standards, where there is no air conditioning but the =
> patrons manage a degree of comfort in the summer heat through the =
> consumption of copious amounts of lemonade and iced tea and from the =
> ceiling fans turning overhead.  On a particularly hot day, when the iced =
> tea was particularly in demand and the fans were set to their maximum =
> speed, a traveler stopped in the restaurant for lunch.  In the midst of =
> his meal, however, he suddenly realized that he needed a restroom, and =
> quickly.  Looking around the restaurant, he saw none, but there was a =
> stairway going upstairs, and that seemed a promising place to search.  =
> When he got upstairs, however, there was still no restroom, and =
> searching further was not an option.  He did see a small hole in the =
> floor, and in desperation he relieved himself there. =20
> =20
> Attempting to regain some degree of self-possession, he then sauntered =
> back downstairs, hoping that no one from the restaurant staff would be =
> going upstairs and looking at the hole for at least the next few =
> minutes.  When he got back downstairs, though, he found the restaurant =
> entirely empty, with every evidence of a hurried exodus.  Steppping =
> outside himself, he recognized one of the other customers and asked him, =
> "What happened?  How come everyone left the restaurant all of a sudden?" =
> =20
> =20
> The other man just looked at him and asked, "Where were you when the =
> shit hit the fan?"
> =20
> =20
> John Baker
> =20
> ________________________________
> From: American Dialect Society on behalf of Laurence Horn
> Sent: Sat 10/11/2008 10:51 PM
> Subject: Re: more fan-hitting
> At 8:55 PM -0500 10/11/08, Cohen, Gerald Leonard wrote:
>>Hi Wilson,
>>   It's not based on a pun but on a scatalogical joke, where the
>>stuff really did hit the fan.  I treated this topic in Comments on
>>Etymology, vol. 20, no. 8, May 1991, p. 12.  I'll mail you a copy on
> Ah, but other inquiring minds want to know.  Couldn't you summarize
> the scatological joke in this forum?
> L
> ------------------------------------------------------------
> The American Dialect Society -

All say, "How hard it is that we have to die"---a strange complaint to
come from the mouths of people who have had to live.
-Mark Twain

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