Oh, it's off the hook now, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers
A.D.D. for dogs
*German scientists now believe that dogs understand us more than we thought. A German dog, named Rico, can recognize the name of 200 different objects. Do you realize what this means? My dogs, Wrigley and Kasey, are learning impaired.
It is my suspicion that Wrigley is dyslexic. He gets everything I tell him backwards. Stay? He comes. Roll over? He stands up. Fetch? He takes a nap. No? He does it. Stop? He goes. Come here? He pees on poor Kasey's head.
I guess he didn't go with my suggestion for the title: Bill Spills
Bill Clinton’s biography “My Life” is out. As in his past, I’m not sure how forthcoming Clinton is with the truth in his book. At our local bookstore, it’s listed in the fiction section.
Watching the out-pouring of affection for Ronald Reagan, it made me think that, when it’s Clinton’s time to go, because of his scandals and dishonesty, Clinton won’t evoke nearly as much emotion and sadness. Well, except from comedy writers.
Clinton’s biography is 957 pages long. To give you an idea how big that book is, it almost weighs as much as one of his interns.
Since you asked:
For the love of decency, why am I still hearing songs on classic rock radio from the damn band Boston? They were horribly over-played back in the seventies. And one of the most over-rated bands of all had to be Rush. What was that, rock for dorks?
Folks, I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again, starting with Emerson Lake and Palmer, and following through with Boston and especially Rush, for the millionth time, THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS PSUEDO-INTELLECTUAL ROCK.
Don't make me come up there.
(Polite applause)
A.D.D. for dogs
*German scientists now believe that dogs understand us more than we thought. A German dog, named Rico, can recognize the name of 200 different objects. Do you realize what this means? My dogs, Wrigley and Kasey, are learning impaired.
It is my suspicion that Wrigley is dyslexic. He gets everything I tell him backwards. Stay? He comes. Roll over? He stands up. Fetch? He takes a nap. No? He does it. Stop? He goes. Come here? He pees on poor Kasey's head.
I guess he didn't go with my suggestion for the title: Bill Spills
Bill Clinton’s biography “My Life” is out. As in his past, I’m not sure how forthcoming Clinton is with the truth in his book. At our local bookstore, it’s listed in the fiction section.
Watching the out-pouring of affection for Ronald Reagan, it made me think that, when it’s Clinton’s time to go, because of his scandals and dishonesty, Clinton won’t evoke nearly as much emotion and sadness. Well, except from comedy writers.
Clinton’s biography is 957 pages long. To give you an idea how big that book is, it almost weighs as much as one of his interns.
Since you asked:
For the love of decency, why am I still hearing songs on classic rock radio from the damn band Boston? They were horribly over-played back in the seventies. And one of the most over-rated bands of all had to be Rush. What was that, rock for dorks?
Folks, I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again, starting with Emerson Lake and Palmer, and following through with Boston and especially Rush, for the millionth time, THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS PSUEDO-INTELLECTUAL ROCK.
Don't make me come up there.
(Polite applause)