"Jeeba-Jabba-Jooba"

It's funny what things stick with you. I'll never forget one night during the all-too-brief period I dated Laura "Hot Damn" Pittman. Long story short, back in the early days when I worked in the crazy restaurant and so did she, we became big ol' best-buddies, and we still talk occasionally. She's a beautiful soul, as fine a woman as you could ask, and for mega-bonus points, she's hilarious. I really should've dated Laura longer. Much longer. 

 One night we went to see a band called the Cast. They were one of my favorite bands on the planet, who just happened to be local. They were amazing. The things that happened before, during and after a Cast show were legendary. This was during the peak of my "X" days, and Laura and I each took a couple of hits over about a four-hour period. We were flying.

 Her brother John met us at the club. He's a great guy and a character extraordinaire. He was X-ing too, and he'd taken a lot more than we had. We may have been flying, but John-Boy had blasted off in a rocketship. Or a UFO maybe. We were all groovin' to the music, and hoping our faces wouldn't crack from smiling so much. For brother and sister, John and Laura were best friends, and they were bouncing funny shit off of each other the whole time. I was having a ball.

 Ay some point John disappeared, like he went to get another spring water, and never came back. We were all drinking spring water, and talking about how wonderful it was. Everything was wonderful in fact...the music, the company, the buzz...everything. Then John was gone. We knew he was blasted, but he was also a big boy, so we didn't worry too much.

 A few hours later, after we'd shut down the band and gone by the crazy restaurant for a nightcap, we got back to Laura's. She and John were a few years younger than me, and still living at their parents' beautiful pad. We walked in, headed for the bedroom of course, but we were sidetracked by music coming from the living room, and went to investigate. 

 Sure enough, there was John, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the stereo. He was changing stations on the receiver, and twiddling knobs at random. He was mumbling something to himself. Basically it sounded like (to paraphrase): "Jeeba-Jabba Jooba. Jooba-Jeeba-Jooba. Jeeba-Jeeba-Jabba. Jooba-Jooba-Jooba." He was smiling ear-to-ear, so we knew he was okay, but he was still high as a blimp. 

 We died laughing, but we weren't sure he could actually speak, so we said "John...you okay?" He nodded and smiled bigger, but all he said was "Jeeba-Jeeba." We cracked-up again. That answered our question. He was so high that he couldn't talk (done there...been that), but he was speaking fluent Jeeba-Jooba. Not many people speak Jeeba-Jooba. We hang out with him a bit, making sure he was hydrated and all, and then went off to even further ecstasy. My, what a honey she was...and still is. 

 Of course it became a Joke with Laura and me, and we spread it far and wide. We'd get buzzed after work, and if we were really buzzed, we'd look at each other and go "Jeeba-Jabba-Jooba," and crack-up. Sometimes when I get so completely flabbergasted at something that I don't know what to say, I'll automatically go "Jeeba-Jabba-Jooba." It works as well as anything else, plus it rolls off the tongue, and as a bonus it gives me a laugh, and reminds me of Laura "Hot Damn" Pittman, aka "Ass of God." Love always Laura, and Jeeba-Jooba to Youba.