Oh slap ditty bop, hmm, hmm, hmm, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers
A medical study that polled 100 urologists reveals the groin punch game is harmful to boys. This brilliant analysis comes from the institute of Well Duh from the department of Yah Think?
In Seattle a man shot himself in the scrotum when the gun in his pants misfired when he was shopping at Lowe’s Home Improvement. That has to be the most embarrassing place a man could be shot, and I don’t mean the scrotum.
A poll of 100 urologists reveals that the groin punch game is more harmful to boys. Gosh, next thing you know they’ll tell us that girls are more likely to get pregnant than guys.
There is a lot of controversy surrounding putting an Islamic Mosque at ground zero; for now I think we should really focus on putting a man on Supreme Court nominee Elena Kagan.
Of the public reaction to his company’s Gulf disaster, British Petroleum CEO Tony Hayward said; “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.” Interesting, so what would burying him in twenty tons of leaked oil do to him I wonder?
In Seattle a man shot himself in the scrotum when the gun in his pants misfired when he was shopping at Lowe’s Home Improvement. You would think a guy who stuffed a gun in his pants is crazy, but it turns out not to be as nutty as he used to be. If he got shot shopping at Lowe’s that must mean the bullet hit the purse his wife was carrying his testicles in.
“The Dog Whisperer” Caesar Millan and his wife of 16-years, Ilusion, are getting divorced. But don’t feel bad, 16-years is 112 in dog whisperer years.
CBS has a new comedy title “(Bleep) My Dad Says.” It has bleep in the title. Now don’t confuse this with NBC sitcoms, they have bleep in the scripts.
“The Dog Whisperer” Caesar Millan and his wife of 16-years, are getting divorced. Apparently she caught him fooling around with some bitch.
Since you asked:
How about those Chicago Blackhawks? First championship in almost 50 years, or as the Cubs call that: recently. Now, as a former Chicagoan transplanted to San Diego, I may not be as hockey savvy as I used to be, but I love the way the ‘Hawks used their long slappy sticks to hit that disk-thingie into the netty-jobbers. No, seriously, the way the ‘Hawks forechecked in the attack zone during power plays allowed them to send a bender on the shortside to put the biscuit in the basket.
Yeah, I don’t know what any of that means.
But I do love the way Adam Burish hammered Chris Pronger in the on-ice interview right after the game. Burish called Pronger the biggest idiot in the league and if he sees him again, he’ll punch him. That is so refreshing and so much more honest than the usual politically correct sports spewage:
“He’s a competitor and we’re all giving 110 % so I have to give him credit.”
In the words of the great Keith Jackson:
“These two teams just flat-out don’t care for one another.”
Now go party with the Stanley Cup trophy, ‘Hawks. There better be tales of the cup getting dented in strip joints and night clubs and blues bars.
Oh, and anyone who wants to give the awesome Jeremy Roenick a hard time about crying tears of joy on air after the win? Feel free to walk up to Roenick and call him a crybaby. I'll stand back here and bet on how many body bags it takes to get you to the morgue.
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