I Give, Because I Love
Let the Q & A begin!
Mrs. G asked:
Say, where does the term "throw a monkey wrench into the plan" come from?
A quick google revealed the following:
What monkey wrenches have to do with monkeys is unknown. The term for a wrench with an adjustable jaw dates to the early 19th century and is originally British, although now is chiefly North American in usage. It has been suggested that the monkey is an alteration (folk etymology) of the inventor's name, but this explanation lacks supporting evidence.
The phrase to throw a monkey wrench into the machinery dates to 1918, although the metaphorical sense of throwing a monkey wrench, meaning an obstacle or hindrance, is a bit older. On 30 July 1907 the Chicago Tribune published the following:
It should look to them as if he were throwing a monkeywrench into the only market by visiting that Cincinnati circus upon the devoted heads of Kentucky's best customers.
The British version of this phrase, to throw a spanner into the works, dates to 1934.
(Source: Oxford English Dictionary Online)
But let's forget that. Here's what really happened. Originally, the phrase was "Moneyed Wench" which clearly refers to an uncouth but wealthy woman. Oh, the difficulties caused by ill-mannered women with beaucoup bucks. Just look at the Hilton sisters, right? Those "moneyed wenches" can really mess up the best of plans.
In kitchens and maid's quarters, factories and barns, laborers cursed these snotty women of means and the whims that kept them working like slaves with no thanks. Over time, the accents of immigrant workers changed the sound of the words, and like a game of Telephone, the phrase became "Monkey Wrench."
"Besides," said Seamus Finnegan, after hauling home a drunken debutante on what was supposed to be his night off. "Not much difference between a monkey and a wench, I always say."
Lee wants to know:
If you were really Jehnnay fom Forrest Gump - would you have let Forrest crash that black panther party?? If I was THAT Jehnnay, heck yeah. She was a bit dense. Now, if it was ME (as played by Robin Wright Penn) I'd like to think there would be more nude guitar playing. Also, the movie would be called "Jenny" and Forrest would be a supporting actor, showing my benevolent, tender side.
If you could have any super power (other than your stunning beauty) what would it be? Being a Libra, the first thing that comes to mind is swift and peaceful conflict resolution, with no bloodshed and willing compromise. That would be my power for GOOD.
However, as I've mentioned before, I'm more likely to be a force of evil, on accounts that I'm not real noble and just. My evil super-power would be total mind control of others. Because, you know, that would ROCK.
I'm shooting big here...perhaps the power of unlimited spending? Sounds like an Amex ad. Nah. I'm sticking with total mind control.
If you accused a child of pooping their pants at a very crowded upscale store, and they retaliated with pulling their pants down and screaming at the top of their lungs, "See momma its just farts!!" - how would you handle that?
Wait... is this a trick question? Because I usually just lift the child bodily into the air and sniff the seat of their pants if there is tell-tale odor. I'll also seize a waistband and have a gander.
This actually reminds me of the time my son announced "Mommy! My dingus is SO BIG!" and whipped it out in the line at Target.
I said calmly "That's nice, honey. We'll go to the bathroom as soon as we finish here." I gave a neutral smile to the cashier and other people in line (who were HORRIFIED) and helped my son put his BIG DINGUS back under wraps.
We paid, visited the bathroom, got to the car. I explained sometimes dings just get big, and it's not all that exciting, and also that pants needed to stay in the fully locked, upright position. Then I turned up the music and laughed myself sick, all the way home.
So, I guess in your hypothetical situation, I would probably
a)treat the child's wardrobe malfunction and declaration as I would treat a comment about the weather.
b) I would correct the malfunction with as much nonchalance as I could muster under the circumstances.
c) Remove the little offender from the premises after completing our business.
d) Engage them in a very serious discussion of appropriate times to moon your mother, followed by a little song or other mneumonic device to help them remember that flashing tiny heinies to make a point is frowned on in most public venues, and pisses off upscale customers (except the Moneyed Wenches, who enjoy this sort of thing.)
e) Turn up the music and laugh myself sick all the way home.
Hope that helps.
Got questions? I'm here all week. Ask away.