Related (or not)
Last Weak | Index | Next Weak
5 November 2010
No. 5,966 (cartoon)
You broke my heart.
You broke my jaw.
Friends don’t keep score.
6 November 2010
T Lavitz (Deceased)
I was chatting with a southern belle last night, and told her all I knew about southern culture was that my high school friend T was in the Dixie Dregs. Later, I looked up the Dregs on Internet and saw this under the band’s roster:
T Lavitz (deceased)
After some searching, I found out he died in his sleep a month ago today. I poked around some more, but found no more information about his demise. That’s fine; since he’s dead more information would have only fueled and satisfied morbid curiosity.
I did, however find this goodbye from Gwen, his former wife.
When I married you, I married my best friend forever. Our daughter and I love you deeply. Rest in peace.
That’s so lovely that it almost makes me want get married so that I can have a previous wife to say such nice things about me when I pop my clogs.
7 November 2010
Two Dyslexic Guys ...
Two dyslexic guys walk into a bra ...
I do love bad jokes I do.
8 November 2010
This May Seem Odd But Scientists Say It’s True
I was half-listening to some damn story about chimpanzees and humans on the radio when I heard the reporter, Joe Palka, say, “That may seem odd but scientists say it’s true.”
Great line, Joe! “This May Seem Odd But Scientists Say It’s True” would be a great title for a book of stories and/or photographs. The only problem with that idea is that coming up with a book’s worth of stories and/or photographs would be a lot of work.
9 November 2010
The Best Five Years of My Life
I heard Dick Van Dyke on the radio, and this is what he said.
“All of us involved say The Dick Van Dyke Show was the best five years of our lives.”
Oh dear oh dear oh dear.
That television program began in 1961 and ended in 1966. If the best five years of my life was almost half a century ago, I think I would have long ago lost the will to live. I am very much alive, though, in that the best five years of my life are yet to come.
10 November 2010
When I visited Stewart’s studio for a show-and-tell visit, I was pleasantly surprised by what I saw. I wasn’t surprised that I was surprised; that was one of the goals of my visit.
Stewart was running a model railroad. The seven-car train emerged from the storeroom through a hole in the wall, huffed and puffed along the eastern wall of studio, chugged past the bar, then looped back into the storeroom.
“Here’s how it works,” he explained. “When the train passes, throw the bottle cap from your beer in the hopper of the coal car.”
“What happens if I miss?” I asked.
“Then you have to open another bottle of beer,” Stewart answered. “It’s a one-cap penalty.”
He had a simple explanation of what inspired him to come up with the Beercap Express.
“I’m a genius. And it’s never too late to have a happy childhood!” he declared.
11 November 2010
Gin, England’s Tonic
I read that the half million people who lived in London two hundred and seventy years ago quaffed twenty-two gallons of gin annually. That works out to half a liter per capita daily. On one hand, that’s not all that much, but it is enough to get most people tipsy.
It’s no wonder why the residents of that filthy city drank so much in those depressing, squalid times, which, come to think of it, aren’t that qualitatively different than these depressing, squalid times.
The worst time to be in England is when you’re sober.
[My computer tells me this is the third time I’ve written about per capita beverage consumption in less than six weeks. I shall try to refrain from talking about statistics for at least the remainder of the calendar year.]
Last Weak | Index | Next Weak
©2010 David Glenn Rinehart