Speaking of haberdashery. Over the weekend I accidentally let it slip to Ivan that I was working on a project that involved pantaloons. I mentioned the pantaloons to her because I never get tired of saying “pantaloons”, as you will see. It makes me think of doubloons which makes me think of pirates which makes me think of pirates in pantaloons which makes me laugh.
Little did I know that the my hilarity concerning the pantaloons would cause Ivan’s brain to melt. I guess technically it was my fault because I wouldn’t say what the mysterious pantaloons were for. Pantaloons . . . are like birthday wishes. If you explain, they won’t come true.
Honest!
And yet word of the pantaloons's existence got out. I didn't know at that stage what I was getting myself into; the mildness of Ivan's initial interest did not forebode what was to come.
Me: Nothing like sewing pantaloons on a Saturday afternoon.
Ivan: For real?
Ivan then developed, for an unfathomable reason, a sudden paranoid fear of the pantaloons:
Me: I’ve never needed a thimble before.
Ivan: OK, SIMON, I'M STARTING TO THINK YOU'RE REALLY SEWING PANTALOONS. What's with that?
This quickly progressed to stalking:
Ivan: You must tell me what you're sewing. I almost called your house to ask your mother.
And from here Ivan went directly into harassment via e-mail. These were sent in the space of a single afternoon. They reach sort of a peak of derangement in the third e-mail, and then in numbers four and five you can see that poor Ivan snaps and her spirit is crushed under the weight of unexplained pantaloons. It's a kind of tragicomedy, really. (Sorry, Ivan.)
E-mail #1: YOU HAD BETTER POST SOON. I AM STILL CONCERNED ABOUT YOUR INVOLVEMENT IN THIS (obviously) ILLEGAL PANTALOON PRODUCTION.
E-mail #2: SSSiiiiiiiiiMMMOOONNN. the suspense. it's killing me. seriously. you'll be sorry when i'm dead.
E-mail #3: ARRRGGHGGGWEEgtejt6w45345r
i need to know WHY and HOW and FOR WHAT IN THE NAME OF BOB AND HAMAL you are sewing pantaloons for.
E-mail #4: google ads wants me to tell you "$3000/week to crochet!"
E-mail #5: are you done with the thing, about the things yet?
Yes, Ivan, I’m done. And to tide you over until I finish the real post, here are the infamous pantaloons that have been tormenting you so. Didn’t I say they were cute?
Monday, April 24, 2006
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7 comments:
holy mother of god those are cute. something made me think they were for you... BUT I STILL WANT TO KNOW WHAT THEY'RE FOR!!!!!!!!
Who knew infuriating Ivan could be so entertaining? However now I'm curious too ... and within walking distance of pestering Simon in person.
P.S. It's a definate sign of brilliance that new posts in the world of SimonAndIvan immediately equal a temporary cure for moping and relief from stress, brought on by a fit of the giggles in their place. If you can bottle this, you two'd make a fortune. However I must admit I selfishly like getting it for free.
We could probably be convinced to give it away gratis to friends, as a kind of thank-you for, you know, actually reading the blog.
i suppose i would have had to list Hedgehog Joy Infusion on the annual vassar drug survey (which i just took -- another reliable source for hilarity).
I am still in love with that canvas bag they give out during orientation that has 10 drug facts on it, one of which is "some Vassar students use" and another of which is "some Vassar students don't use." Thank you, Vassar. That is so informative and helpful. Little freshers will certainly draw upon those wise words when arming themselves against peer pressure.
One time, I loudly announced that I was leaving my drug bag with a friend whilst I went to the bathroom in a restaurant.
Seriously, Simon, what/whom are those pants for? I guess you could put them on your fingers and make hand puppets...I GUESS. If you wanted to.
This whole thing would make an excellent BBC series. Actually they should turn your blog into a BBC series. It would be excellent(as long as you never let Americans remake it).
I should be an agent...I'm trying to get another friend a spot on NPR.
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