call me a romantic but i think all you really do need is love.
if my wife and i could only afford a double-wide, a bird feeder, and a grand am, as long as she kept me fed and didnt mind my beer belly, i would give her everything else she could want: three to four minutes of passion before bedtime, a lush yard, and constant reassurances that her ass still looks good under that housecoat.
i would only hope that she would let me do my smoking indoors, although that looks like a mighty comfy chair.
beyonce woke me up this morning, quite impressed that nearly 80 people have permalinked busblog since 6/2.
told ya it’d work,she snickered.
yeah, yeah, do you have any idea what time it is?
i have a question for you, though, tony. what are you going to do about all the nice people who linked you before 6/2?
well, beyonce, i said, lots of them are nicely linked on my Links page, but i might do something a little special next month. i am an appreciative fellow, you know.
just then the call-waiting clicked.
it was anna.
i hung up on beyonce and took the call.
hi anna, whats up?
just wanted to hear your sweet voice.
aw, thats so nice.
so what are you doing tonight, honey?
hmmm, that was a trick question, i thought. i knew that anna would be arriving in the wee hours from wherever she was flying in from, and i did have a date with Rosalita to see Adam Sandler’s new movie costarring our favorite crook, Winona, but i lied and said, “nothing.”
great, can you pick me up from the airport?
oh, shucks, doll, you know i dont have a car.
i know, im gonna send over a limo and i want you to ride in it and be waiting there for me when i arrive.
hmmm, what time?
9pm. i got a ride from John Travolta. he’s flying me in special.
and that, people, is how i started my morning.
hope yours began better.
tony’s lesson of the day: never lie in real life, only on blogs, or you might wind up with a sweet old lady in a trailer park after all.
79. easy bake oven