Ahhhh, da wind, she doth bloweth, on me no less...
We could dance the party all night and drink some cherry wine?!?
Probably not, besides he's dead, Jimbo.
I just now realized how coincidental it is that I post a gif of David Spade and I'm about to go rewatch his comedy special I dvr'ed last weekend. It is a pretty good one, and I also recorded a Patton Oswald one that needs to be watched and purged of. Not sure if I'm going to get it done tonight, but we'll give 'er...
Na na na naaahh, na-na-nahhhhhh...
Now some extended Don't Dream It's Over for mein own listening pleasure. So well placed in the miniseries they did of The Stand, I liked it after that, yet not before. Hmmmm, go figure...
So many...
Dot dot dots.
Yet none for dipping, as always seems the case in a dive like this with the things and the boobie tassles, no?
I should've known when I saw the sign that said FREE BREAKFAST with cover charge. I get inside, and what do I get?!?
Lies, lies, lies. No fries, just lies. And boobies, lest we forget...
Because the sign was nothing more than a ruse, really. Shorn and slick as sliced slaw on the halfshell.
Don't bother deciphering this, it makes no sense to mein ears and eyes neitherly and netherly.
Ok, then. Time for a few mustard and biscuits before Mama comes in for my Bible lessons...
Peace out, Sniglets.
Btw, Chaka Khan might feel for you, but I do not. Not unless that funkeh bass line is poppin'...
And lockin'...
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