My Life in the Mines
Let me tell you about my life in the mines. First, just to give you an idea of the intellect of the people in the mines, I went into the mines one day and said to one of my fellow miners, "Have you ever heard of Marcel Proust?"
He said "No, he must work in another mine."
"No," I said, "Marcel Proust is a French author who, when he eats breakfast, dips his biscuit into his tea. Then, when he bites his biscuit, all his memories come flowing back."
Well, I decided to try my hand at Mr. Proust's task and write a book. I called it My Life in the Mines. It consisted of this:
I went into a mine and saw what looked like a lump of coal. I picket it up and threw it into a mine truck, which then vanished down a long dark tunnel never to be seen by me again.
I took this story to my publisher and he said it lacked. I asked him what it lacked and he said, "You name it, it lacks it."
I asked him specifically what it lacked and he said, "Specifically, it lacks the two most important qualities of great literature: sex and violence."
So, I decided to try again. This time, it started with two women walking in the desert. They were fighting very hard and they were very nude. As they walked, they fought, and they became very black and blue and even more nude.
Soon, they came upon a mine. They were already very black and very blue and very nude. So they looked at each other and said “Let’s go inside and do nasty things to one another.”
So they went inside and saw what looked like a lump of coal. One picked it up and threw it at the other. What ensued was a fierce battle, which made the women even more black and blue and even more nude.
It was then that I walked into the mine and found them laying there completely unconscious, completely black and blue, and completely nude. I then picked them up and threw them into a mine truck. It vanished down a long dark tunnel never to be seen by me again.
I took this story to my publisher, and he advised me not to quit my day job.
First version, text copied from a Word document that used only default formatting and was last saved on 7 February 1999, written then by me from the best memory I had of some acquaintance performing this with a British accent. I believe the person reciting this to me originally was a student at Harvey Mudd College sometime 1995-1999.
See also https://mastodon.online/@therealchjones/111121786871300015