Omar, left: “I’m not really sure I understand what’s going on right now.”
Barbra, right: “You were making a pass and I intercepted.”
Omar: “That’s not how I recall things. I was merely walking to my desk over there when suddenly you latched onto me like the last cannoli in the deli.”
Barbra: “Oh, such imagery! And I know just what to do with a cream-filled treat.”
Omar: “Well, it’s nice to have a skill, but is that really any way for a lady to talk?”
Barbra: “Who said I was a lady? I have needs, Omar. Take me now. Because the night belongs to lovers.”
Omar: “That might be the case, but it’s 9am. I haven’t even had coffee yet, and until that happens, I can’t have anything else.”
Barbra: “Not even me? I had my hair done special and everything.”
Omar: “About that…”
Barbra: “Isn’t it gorgeous?”
Omar: “That’s a word that some people might use, but not me. I think a better word might be ‘mortality’, as in how many people might have died during the building of such a structure, like all those slaves who gave it up to build the pyramids in Egypt.”
Barbra: “You really vex me sometimes, Omar. You don’t understand the lengths I go to in order to keep our conjugal adventures exciting.”
Omar: “You’re right, I don’t. But I do know the length from where I am now to the laptop over on my desk. I’d really like to make that journey, but your insistent pelvis is proving to be quite the speed bump.”
Barbra: “What is so important about your damn laptop? Sometimes I think you love technology more than you love me. Why do men have to be such clueless pigs?”
Omar: “I really don’t think it’s necessary to bring livestock into this equation, unless some of them are trapped in your hair and trying to get out. And I don’t have time for this. I have a deadline to bump a blogger.”
Barbra: “Bump a blogger? Have you been stepping out on me?”
Omar: “No, I just want to step around you. I promised Zoe at “Hollywood Genes” that I would help promote her blogathon.”
Barbra: “Zoe? That’s a girl’s name. And a blogathon sounds naughty. Have you been sharing your cannoli outside our deli?”
Omar: “I think you need to dial down the drama. You’ve got way too much of it, even for a Broadway star.”
Barbra: “And I think you need to stop shtupping strumpets with cutesy first names.”
Omar: “Cutesy first names? That’s rich, coming from you, Barbra. What happened to the second ‘A’ that should be in your name?”
Barbra: “Oh, so the failure of our relationship is my fault because of a spelling issue?”
Omar: “That’s just as good a reason as your paranoid claims that my cannoli has been double-dipped.”
Barbra: “Fine. I’m calling my lawyer. I’ve got his number somewhere in my hair.”
Omar: “Look, this is silly and I’m getting bored, like many of the readers of this story who are just waiting for some type of resolution. Why don’t you release your avaricious arms from around my waist and follow me to the laptop?”
Barbra releases. They trot to the desk. (Barbra is a bit slower with the trotting, trying to keep her balance with all that livestock hair.) Omar opens his laptop, powers it up, hits a few keys, and then this appears on the screen:
Omar: “See? All legit. I’m just trying to help a fellow blogger spread the word about her blogathon. In a non-shtupping way.”
Barbra: “Oh. Well, perhaps I overreacted just a wee smidge. And this is all you’re doing with this Zoe woman?”
Omar: “There’s a bit more.”
Barbra: “I knew it! Men with tiny mustaches can never be trusted!”
Omar: “I’ve also signed up to write a piece on the very movie that we are appearing in at this moment.”
Barbra: “You mean…”
Omar: “I’m writing a review of ‘Funny Girl’. I haven’t finished it yet, because you have the libido of a woodpecker and require extra-high maintenance.”
Barbra: “This is getting very deep.”
Omar: “Says the woman who can’t get enough cannoli.”
Barbra: “That’s rude.”
Omar: “That’s Bonnywood.”
If you are a fan of classic cinema, please click here to peruse Zoe’s blog. (She does wonderful things with her love of movies.) If you are interested in joining this blogathon, you can find the specific details here. (Movie blogathons are a great way to meet folks with similar interests, even if you’re just reading and not actually submitting reviews.) And if you don’t know what the hell a cannoli is, here’s another link.
Cheers.
P.S. “BuMP” is an acronym, of sorts, for Bonnywood Manor Productions. There’s a story behind it, but it’s late and I’m tired. Tomorrow is another day…
Categories: Share The Love
Bonnywood Manor 
“That’s Bonnywood.”
Best
Line
EVER!!!!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks, Maggie. I try to keep things as fresh as I can, even when I’m recycling… 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love a good BuMP story! Does it happen in the night?
LikeLiked by 2 people
All of the best things happen at night… 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
So those speed bumps I’ve been cursing all these years are really just insistent pelvises?
Who knew…..
LikeLiked by 3 people
At Bonnywood, we do our best to keep everyone informed about what’s really going on…
LikeLiked by 1 person
And we appreciate it….
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s never good to vex someone. A lot of clever euphemisms today Brian, you are on your game! Funny Girl is a classic and Streisand was wonderful in it, schtupping or not.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks, David. I’m rather excited about getting to review “Funny Girl”, as I haven’t seen it for several decades…
LikeLike
I went to see this just after it opened at the Egyptian in Hollywood, a “gorgeous” theater, and went back to see it three more times before it closed and moved to regular theaters.The original playbill is tucked away somewhere. Back in the olden days, those were available for a few weeks after the premier. (Lost the Sparticus playbill.) Babs has a special on Netflix or Prime where she sings along with the original tugboat “Don’t Rain on My Parade” number. It’s incredible how she can still keep that vocal line at her age.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Oh my, the Egyptian. Yet another thing you’ve done (apparently many times) that makes me somewhat jealous. (This is what I get for trying to “find myself” in Texas instead of more respectable destination. Oh well.)
It’s interesting that you bring up playbills, as I was just wondering the other day where I had put all of mine. I know they exist, as I wouldn’t dare toss them, but I haven’t a clue on their current abode.
I’ll keep an eye out for the Babs special. It sounds like just the ticket.
LikeLike
‘I really don’t think it’s necessary to bring livestock into this. Unless some of them are trapped in your hair …’ amongst the plethora of guffaws and snorts I emitted in the reading of this, that line nearly slew me! Remind me to tell you my own Omar story one day …. 😉
LikeLiked by 3 people
I have an Omar story too.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Osyth: The poor livestock. They always get the bad end of the barnyard shtick. Your “Omar story” comment jiggled a few remote brain cells, so we may have discussed such, at least peripherally, at some point. But I do expect to absorb your entire adventure over cocktails one afternoon…
Peggy: Oh? You simply must share as well. Perhaps the three of us could meet at Doctor Zhivago’s Ice Palace…
LikeLiked by 2 people
Oh yes, waiting for our chance to share drinks.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I think I have on reflection. I think repetition is a sign of onset senility isn’t it? Must get back to drinking those reviving champagne cocktails – I’m pretty sure my cylinders fire the better for them 😉. Peggy – you have to share this with us. Can we go in a troika please?
LikeLiked by 2 people
My reply got inserted a couple of posts down.
LikeLiked by 2 people
I’ll find it!
LikeLiked by 2 people
I’m confused but I embrace that. Own it. It’s much better than dead cannoli (which does not necessarily mean the owner of said cannoli is dead, simply that the perhaps overused a tad metaphor owner is unable to keep cream in his pastry) and overdone hair that contributed mightily (no doubt) to the problem with that ozone layer hole. I’d leap upon that blogathon with zeal and gusto save for the fact that I’m not sure my energy level will be up to par by then. I’ll watch for updates though! Do tell the BUMP story some time, will you? Because we all enjoy ‘things that go bump in the night..” don’t we?? 😉
LikeLiked by 2 people
Well, I have to give you credit for going from innocent stuffed pasty to the destruction of the global ecosystem in just a few sentences. And yet I was with you all the way, which gives even more credit to your writerly skills.
It would, of course, be fun if you could join the blogathon. But I fully understand the hesitation. I’ve got over a month to prepare my piece but, as is standard procedure around here, I’ll probably dilly and dally and end up scribbling something two seconds before the deadline.
I’ve actually shared the BuMP story before, some time ago, but it was buried in another post and I no longer recall the context of said post. I’ll try to do some excavating…
LikeLike
I wrote about it here. https://leggypeggy.com/2015/07/11/omar-sharif-rest-in-peace/
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m confused but I embrace that. Own it. It’s much better than dead cannoli (which does not necessarily mean the owner of said cannoli is dead, simply that the perhaps overused a tad metaphor owner is unable to keep cream in his pastry) and overdone hair that contributed mightily (no doubt) to the problem with that ozone layer hole. I’d leap upon that blogathon with zeal and gusto save for the fact that I’m not sure my energy level will be up to par by then. I’ll watch for updates though! Do tell the BUMP story some time, will you? Because we all enjoy ‘things that go bump in the night..” don’t we?? 😉
LikeLiked by 2 people
Er….excuse the possible double dipping of my comment. WordPress isn’t playing ‘nice’ today. Maybe it’s caught the virus and is poorly.
LikeLiked by 2 people
WordPress never plays nice with me anymore. We should probably be in couple’s therapy, but I’ve got other bills to pay…
LikeLike
Favorite scene: when she’s performing and catches sight of him in the audience. *swoon*
Nice intro to the blogathon, Mister Lageose.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Merci, mon amie. And I was already swooning from “Doctor Zhivago”, so this movie was just icing on the mustache cake. (Okay, that line sounded better in my head…)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Leave the gun…take the cannoli.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s what my mother told me when I was five… 😉
LikeLike