All that is standing between the Free World and their lard.
Just try to get by him with your dusty truck. Just try sneaking huge quantities of lard out of the building for your illicit pie-making.
Don't mess with him: He's got a BADGE!
(and he will promptly call 911. He's not stupid.)
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
My question is...
...And perhaps those of you who actually took and passed a physics class can answer this for me..
How do we know for sure where we are right now?
(Dirtman reminded me Heir 2 actually got an "A" in Physics and is, in fact, contemplating majoring in Physics in college; but I fear my question will be met with the standard eye roll that tells me Heir 2 expects to be wiping drool from my chin any day now. I would prefer an answer from someone less anxious to sign me into Happy Acres Rest Home.)
How do we know for sure where we are right now?
(Dirtman reminded me Heir 2 actually got an "A" in Physics and is, in fact, contemplating majoring in Physics in college; but I fear my question will be met with the standard eye roll that tells me Heir 2 expects to be wiping drool from my chin any day now. I would prefer an answer from someone less anxious to sign me into Happy Acres Rest Home.)
Labels:
Da Heirs,
Dirtman,
weird stuff
Thursday, September 04, 2008
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
The First Day of School
Oh, not you, Heir 2. I wouldn't dare make a fuss over your first day of school (though I'd like to point out that this was my last First Day of School...but that's okay, Heir 2. You go on your merry way, roll your eyes and give us That Look.).
No...it's The First Day of School for little John Boy Linguini who, dressed in his pink shorts, will attend Big Eddie's School of Gambling (I think that was the name...).
He looked so grown up heading to Atlantic City. I think he's staying at the Lombardo Hotel. You know the one -- it's under the bridge coming into AC. You know it's a quality place because there is a chipped picture from the 1940s painted on the sign and the lady in it is smiling. And sometimes there are laundry carts outside the rooms meaning sometimes they change the sheets!
So, study hard, John Boy and carry on the family's time-honored gaming tradition.
Remember your alma mater:
Dear, dear Big Eddie's by the Shore
Where we spent our hours on the floor
Dealing for Big Eddie ever more
Until Flat Faced Vinnie escorts us out the door.
Monday, September 01, 2008
The Denny's at the end of the Universe
...and we were there.
We were there with Dark Garden who, hopefully, will lend his rendition of this little excursion. This was a Denny's only Dark Garden could explain to effect.
No. No photographic evidence is available. All electronic equipment was drained of power the moment we walked into the dark, shadowy vestibule and heard a creaky voice rise from the skeletal being lurking behind the ancient podium and say, "How many in your party?"
I just want to say, I'm sorry, John Boy: We will never, ever, get Dark Garden back into a Denny's of any sort. I know, it's always been a struggle anyway and perhaps when we drove up the the dank, fetid cinder block building, we should have known to turn around and go elsewhere to clog our arteries. But I chose to see it as "Vintage Denny's" and put a positive spin on things.
But Dark Garden -- he knew. He knew like dogs know an earthquake is coming or New Orleans voodoo queens can smell evil. He was like Damien in The Omen just before they get to that church for a wedding. Remember that part where seconds later he's clawing at the car upholstery to prevent being taken inside?
Oh -- and John Boy? You would have loved where we went next: We went to a WVU soccer game where, after two halves of regular play and two periods of overtime; after everyone had melted into a puddle at the bottom of the bleachers thus providing the only liquid in the entire stadium because THE CONCESSION STAND RAN OUT OF WATER AT HALF TIME; all for a final score of 0-0! I can't tell you what a riveting game a score of 0-0 yields!
We were there with Dark Garden who, hopefully, will lend his rendition of this little excursion. This was a Denny's only Dark Garden could explain to effect.
No. No photographic evidence is available. All electronic equipment was drained of power the moment we walked into the dark, shadowy vestibule and heard a creaky voice rise from the skeletal being lurking behind the ancient podium and say, "How many in your party?"
I just want to say, I'm sorry, John Boy: We will never, ever, get Dark Garden back into a Denny's of any sort. I know, it's always been a struggle anyway and perhaps when we drove up the the dank, fetid cinder block building, we should have known to turn around and go elsewhere to clog our arteries. But I chose to see it as "Vintage Denny's" and put a positive spin on things.
But Dark Garden -- he knew. He knew like dogs know an earthquake is coming or New Orleans voodoo queens can smell evil. He was like Damien in The Omen just before they get to that church for a wedding. Remember that part where seconds later he's clawing at the car upholstery to prevent being taken inside?
Oh -- and John Boy? You would have loved where we went next: We went to a WVU soccer game where, after two halves of regular play and two periods of overtime; after everyone had melted into a puddle at the bottom of the bleachers thus providing the only liquid in the entire stadium because THE CONCESSION STAND RAN OUT OF WATER AT HALF TIME; all for a final score of 0-0! I can't tell you what a riveting game a score of 0-0 yields!
Labels:
Da Bros,
Dirtman,
weird stuff
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