It's Saturday, so you have time to watch Highlander in 30 seconds with bunnies.
You're back already? Oh. That was fast. Hookay, then. I'll throw in ads ripped from 1970's comic books.
You still need something to do, you can come over to my house and stare dismally at the sun-blasted wasteland that is my suburban backyard. And we can discuss what to do with the lawn for next week's party. There'll be coffee. And blowtorches.
Well you've offered up a regular cornucopia of fun activities for a Saturday, that's for sure, but I'm thinking, if it's ok with you, I'd like to keep inhaling this gym sock full of fiberglas resin and staring at that flickr thingy over there cuz I almost saw God, well he wasn't the God we usually think of, ya know the thunderbolt flinging dude with long white hair, naw, he was the God of the Mice!
Posted by: Bob | October 01, 2005 at 05:42 PM
Bullys never offered me flowers- I might have dropped dead.
Posted by: BB | October 01, 2005 at 11:18 PM
That's cause you played HIGHSCHOOL FOOTBALL and most of the bullies recognized you from the defensive secondary position.
Most of the bullies in my highschool were well aware of the "rumor" surrounding my family and exactly which Sicilian Social Club my father was reputed to have been a member of so consequently my HS days were fairly sedate...
Now whether I wanted bullies to give me flowers is another and entirely internal psychosocial question the tender readers of this blog do not need to know...
Posted by: | October 03, 2005 at 07:19 AM