One if by land. Two if by water taxi.
Cedric the Entertainer reminds me of a guy I used to work with.
My friend was in his uniform, returning home from drill. Some gals on the intersrtate flashed him. When he got home he found a snake, who according to him, "ran away without flashing me". This was what I told him. I cracked me up, so I toted it over here to share with you:
You're so lucky. Nobody ever flashes their breasts at me. I find that sad. And, while I don't know this for a fact, wouldn't you suppose snake tits would be rather small? And, while I'm on the subject of snake tits, wouldn't they more or less have to be on mama snake's back, given her mode of locomotion and all? Travelin' Ed
I don't like loud. Noises, TV, background chatter, children, pets or car exhausts. None of them. I don't mind the sound of them, just not the sound of them loud. It offends my delicate decorum. Except music. Music** should be played as loud as possible without causing distortion. The guitars should wail and the bass line should thump. If it vibrates up through the seat and tickles your butt, well so much the better. Call it cheap entertainment.
They say as you get older you become less tolerant. I don't think that's exactly true. While I am tolerant of more things now than I used to be, I am not sure I am necessarily more tolerant. And of the things that peeve me, I was less tolerant of them as a younger man. So as I have gotten older I have become more less tolerant of those things.
I am eternally thankful for abstract thought. Probably. But I am most thankful four.
Me and brother went to the dentist when we was kids. I think having had 25 dentist appointments in the last 2 weeks has made me think of this. I spend a lot of time laying back with my mouth chocked wide open pondering ways to improve on the hated rubber dam. "Scented would be nice. And maybe a thin layer of gauze or rabbit fur to keep it from feeling all slimey. Perhaps a minty fresh flavor." But that's not why I called you here. I have a story to relate.
When we left the dentist's office (I can't remember his name so I'll call him Dr. Evil....is it too much to ask for ill tempered sea bass with frick-in' lasers??) Bro Dave came over to me, opened his hand and said "Look at what I've got." He had snatched a vial of novocaine. HehHehHeh...we had our own novocaine.
When we got it home we went to our secret liar, sometimes referred to as our den, and plotted what to do with it. "What ya reckon we can do with that?' "I don't know. Numb something I guess." "Numb what?" "Don't know, what might feel cool numbed?" "Don't know. Nothing really comes to mind. Wanna drink some?" "HELL NO. You want to?" "No, me either." "Well, anyway, we got it." "Yes, that we do." THE MORAL OF THIS STORY IS: Novocaine, while cool enough in and of itself, is pretty worthless as a street drug. But remind me sometime to tell you the true story of my white trash Aunt Linda and the leftover cat tranquilizer. In fact, remind me to tell you about the cat that needed tranquilizing, too.
** Anything you do not listen to yourself is actually noise, and not music. It's a proven fact.
Rajpoot, out
Travelin' Ed
My friend was in his uniform, returning home from drill. Some gals on the intersrtate flashed him. When he got home he found a snake, who according to him, "ran away without flashing me". This was what I told him. I cracked me up, so I toted it over here to share with you:
You're so lucky. Nobody ever flashes their breasts at me. I find that sad. And, while I don't know this for a fact, wouldn't you suppose snake tits would be rather small? And, while I'm on the subject of snake tits, wouldn't they more or less have to be on mama snake's back, given her mode of locomotion and all? Travelin' Ed
I don't like loud. Noises, TV, background chatter, children, pets or car exhausts. None of them. I don't mind the sound of them, just not the sound of them loud. It offends my delicate decorum. Except music. Music** should be played as loud as possible without causing distortion. The guitars should wail and the bass line should thump. If it vibrates up through the seat and tickles your butt, well so much the better. Call it cheap entertainment.
They say as you get older you become less tolerant. I don't think that's exactly true. While I am tolerant of more things now than I used to be, I am not sure I am necessarily more tolerant. And of the things that peeve me, I was less tolerant of them as a younger man. So as I have gotten older I have become more less tolerant of those things.
I am eternally thankful for abstract thought. Probably. But I am most thankful four.
Me and brother went to the dentist when we was kids. I think having had 25 dentist appointments in the last 2 weeks has made me think of this. I spend a lot of time laying back with my mouth chocked wide open pondering ways to improve on the hated rubber dam. "Scented would be nice. And maybe a thin layer of gauze or rabbit fur to keep it from feeling all slimey. Perhaps a minty fresh flavor." But that's not why I called you here. I have a story to relate.
When we left the dentist's office (I can't remember his name so I'll call him Dr. Evil....is it too much to ask for ill tempered sea bass with frick-in' lasers??) Bro Dave came over to me, opened his hand and said "Look at what I've got." He had snatched a vial of novocaine. HehHehHeh...we had our own novocaine.
When we got it home we went to our secret liar, sometimes referred to as our den, and plotted what to do with it. "What ya reckon we can do with that?' "I don't know. Numb something I guess." "Numb what?" "Don't know, what might feel cool numbed?" "Don't know. Nothing really comes to mind. Wanna drink some?" "HELL NO. You want to?" "No, me either." "Well, anyway, we got it." "Yes, that we do." THE MORAL OF THIS STORY IS: Novocaine, while cool enough in and of itself, is pretty worthless as a street drug. But remind me sometime to tell you the true story of my white trash Aunt Linda and the leftover cat tranquilizer. In fact, remind me to tell you about the cat that needed tranquilizing, too.
** Anything you do not listen to yourself is actually noise, and not music. It's a proven fact.
Rajpoot, out
Travelin' Ed
That's what I'm about. Ramblin' Ed at 6:51 PM
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