F'ing Beautiful
Note: One of the words in this story has been replaced with an abbreviation. So whenever you see the word f'ing, know that the ' equals uck. 
When people meet me for the first time they usually can't place where I'm from, as I really don't have an accent. I went through two years of speech therapy when I was very young, which rid me of the serious "Joisy" accent prevalent amongst my extended family. Honestly when my Dad's side of the family gets together, it sounds like an episode of "The Sopranos", except there's no talk about "whacking" anybody! As everyone knows my family only perpetrates misdemeanors, not felonies! (read Arrested Development for the details)
I met my future wife Andrea when we were both working for Nextel and I flew out to Southern California on a business trip. A few months after we started dating I flew out to California with my friend Brian to attend a tennis camp, and the three of us went out one night to go see the sun set in the Pacific.
Now Brian is my brother from another mother, but he's also totally "white bread" looking and the son of a minister, so people think he's a goody two shoes. Well the three of us are standing there looking at the sunset and the spirit of my "Joisy" ancestors took over and I started my wise guy routine:
Me: Ya' know Brian, that's a f'ing b-e-a-utiful sunset.
Brian: Yeh, yeh that is a f'ing b-e-a-utiful sunset. Look at that sunset, have you ever seen a more f'ing b-e-a-utiful sunset. F'ing b-e-a-utiful!
At this point Andrea was looking at the two of us like we were completely nuts, so we had to explain to her that this was how people back home really talked (some of my family can weave a beautiful tapestry of obscenity!), but of course she thought we were kidding.
Flash forward a couple of months and Andrea came to visit me in New York. We took a drive up to Bear Mountain (or as Andrea calls it Bear Hill - she's a west coast mountain snob) to do some hiking and see the bald eagle that has lived at the Bear Mountain Zoo for many years. While we're standing there a couple of wannabe wise guys showed up wearing shark skin suits & gold chains, looking like they just whacked somebody and buried them out in the woods. As soon as they walked up I whispered to Andrea "wait for it". She gives me a look like "what the heck are you talking about" and then...the wise guys started talking:
Wise Guy 1: You know Joey that's a f'ing b-e-a-utiful bird. Look at the f'ing feathers on that bird.
Joey: Yeh that is a f'ing b-e-a-utiful bird. F'ing b-e-a-utiful!
At that point I could see that Andrea was trying really hard to hold it together and not laugh out loud, which was good because I'm not sure how Joey and his buddy would have reacted to that! After they walked away we just lost it and from that point on Andrea understood that at least in New Jersey (and New York) "f'ing" is an adjective!
When people meet me for the first time they usually can't place where I'm from, as I really don't have an accent. I went through two years of speech therapy when I was very young, which rid me of the serious "Joisy" accent prevalent amongst my extended family. Honestly when my Dad's side of the family gets together, it sounds like an episode of "The Sopranos", except there's no talk about "whacking" anybody! As everyone knows my family only perpetrates misdemeanors, not felonies! (read Arrested Development for the details)
I met my future wife Andrea when we were both working for Nextel and I flew out to Southern California on a business trip. A few months after we started dating I flew out to California with my friend Brian to attend a tennis camp, and the three of us went out one night to go see the sun set in the Pacific.
Now Brian is my brother from another mother, but he's also totally "white bread" looking and the son of a minister, so people think he's a goody two shoes. Well the three of us are standing there looking at the sunset and the spirit of my "Joisy" ancestors took over and I started my wise guy routine:
Me: Ya' know Brian, that's a f'ing b-e-a-utiful sunset.
Brian: Yeh, yeh that is a f'ing b-e-a-utiful sunset. Look at that sunset, have you ever seen a more f'ing b-e-a-utiful sunset. F'ing b-e-a-utiful!
At this point Andrea was looking at the two of us like we were completely nuts, so we had to explain to her that this was how people back home really talked (some of my family can weave a beautiful tapestry of obscenity!), but of course she thought we were kidding.
Flash forward a couple of months and Andrea came to visit me in New York. We took a drive up to Bear Mountain (or as Andrea calls it Bear Hill - she's a west coast mountain snob) to do some hiking and see the bald eagle that has lived at the Bear Mountain Zoo for many years. While we're standing there a couple of wannabe wise guys showed up wearing shark skin suits & gold chains, looking like they just whacked somebody and buried them out in the woods. As soon as they walked up I whispered to Andrea "wait for it". She gives me a look like "what the heck are you talking about" and then...the wise guys started talking:
Wise Guy 1: You know Joey that's a f'ing b-e-a-utiful bird. Look at the f'ing feathers on that bird.
Joey: Yeh that is a f'ing b-e-a-utiful bird. F'ing b-e-a-utiful!
At that point I could see that Andrea was trying really hard to hold it together and not laugh out loud, which was good because I'm not sure how Joey and his buddy would have reacted to that! After they walked away we just lost it and from that point on Andrea understood that at least in New Jersey (and New York) "f'ing" is an adjective!
