Ages ago, I used to listen to Eddie Murphy’s comedy sketches (on tape, this is before CDs). The funniest one was the one describing a typical Sunday BBQ gathering of his family, during which his drunk father would lash out at each of the family members in a vivid, explicit and hilarious fashion, proclaiming: “This is my house! And if you don’t like it, you can kiss my ass!” (The jokes were not politically-correct, to say the least, but hey, this was the early 80s.)
Anyway, one of the unforgettable characters in that sketch was Aunt Bunny, who used to scare little Eddie because she had a moustache bigger than his father’s. He would have nightmares and wake up screaming: “Aunt Bunny is coming to get me!”
This morning I was reading the newspaper on my flight out of Tel Aviv and the economic section was plastered with Shari Arison’s press conference yesterday to launch her new book. Now, that’s some disturbed woman.
For some reason, reading about Arison reminded me of Aunt Bunny. I can definitely see myself waking up at night screaming: “Shari Erison is coming to get me!”.