Mary Jane wished Hank would hurry and change the tire, it was getting harder to hold up the bumper.
Anonymous said…
Finally the planets aligned correctly as Larry, a red meat eating, baby seal killer, and hater of everything P.E.T.A. exacts revenge on Pamela Anderson.
Also in the news, there's another recall from automobile manufacturers who discovered that a dyslexic engineer had mistakenly installed front exterior funbags.
A long time ago, when I was 22, my first child was born. That kid grew up on a little Canadian kid's show called Polka Dot Door, produced by the TV Ontario network. And Dad, more often than not, sat through those shows with his little one. Nine or so years later when a brother, and a year after that when a sister came along number one son was moving on to Knight Rider and The Dukes of Hazzard. But there was a nice overlap where his siblings picked up where he had left off with Polka Dot Door. And Dad was right there to welcome them. So you're looking at a Polka Dot Door veteran. The show began in 1971 and ran to 1993. I didn't watch the full run but I did get in my fair share. The formula was pretty simple. A young male and female host, which seemed to change every week, sang songs, told stories, made crafts and generally did their best stimulate little brains. The show opened as follows... Imagination Day! Oh boy! ...
There's a debate underway in my household between my wife and I. I say "underway" because it hasn't quite reached the "raging" stage. If you want raging, my wife (a Francophone) and I (an Anglophone) from time to time (usually in a weak moment of my own making) slip into our number one discussion around why we don't speak more French at home - ergo - when am I, a former public servant who learned French at the expense of our gracious taxpayers and was technically rated bilingual (even though I hardly used it), going to improve my use of Canada's other language? This one never gets resolved, hence it's ongoing nature. But the current debate is over a remark I casually made the other day. I'm no geek, but with a lot of time on my hands I surf the web, converse on Facebook and such and - I have to admit - "I'm nonamedufus and I'm a Twitterholic". In an epiphany-like moment I was struck by the apparent impact of social networkin...
My pals over at Tribal Blogs are holding their first Blog Carnival today and the subject is the worst Christmas present ever. Remember Ralphie in the movie A Christmas Story ? His, as my readers point out, Aunt Clara sent him a bunny costume. Yeah, it sure sucked to be him. Hey sometimes Christmas doesn't work out for some of us. Look at my grandsons last Christmas. Things went from this... ...to this... Heh, heh. That's one picture my daughter doesn't want to share too widely. So keep quiet about it, okay? When I was a kid, Christmas was such a special time. The snow outside, the tree, the lights, the food, visiting relatives and neighbours. And of course the presents. My own kids loved Christmas too and would pore through the Sears Wish Book Catalogue as soon as it arrived in the mail, dog-earing pages upon pages of pictures of gifts they wanted for Christmas. And they were pretty lucky. They usually got most of what they asked for. Today the grandkids are luckier than e...
Comments
"Get a load of the white Beamers!"
or
"Dumb blondes... can't live with 'em, can't run 'em over."
ha ha hee hee ho ho. For some reason that hit the funny bone. And I'm not even gonna try to outdo PhilsPhun. I think he got it!
"something wrong with my headlights!"
haha hee hee ho ho
So glad I dropped in today. Good laughs.
and
"My mechanic said the car needed a lube job. I hope I'm doing it right."
"Get a load of the white Beamers!"
or
"Dumb blondes... can't live with 'em, can't run 'em over."