Tuesday, October 26, 2010

And That's When She Slapped The Shit Out Of Me!

Today was not a very good day for me.
Got up not feeling very well this morning, a bad chest cold and clogged sinuses got me good.
Took a shower , did my meds and headed out to the doctor's office. Got there to find out my doc was on vacation and his associate was taking his place for today.

I was seated in examining room #2 and one of the nurses was taking my blood pressure and temperature when in came The replacement Doctor, her name was Pamela.
Well Pamela was asking me a series of questions about my health and all I could do is just stare at her, I was like a school boy in love.
Finally Pamela got pissed at me for staring at her and had asked me what in the hell I was looking at?

I said "Darling I must be staring at the cure for erectile dysfunction!"

I woke up in I.C.U.

And remember....
Laissez les bon temps rouler!
And as always, thanks for listening!

Monday, October 25, 2010

In The News

People With Too Much Money

Women's handbag designers, uncertain about the effect of Hurricane Katrina on Louisiana's alligator habitats, spent the winter searching for new supplies of hides, according to a March Wall Street Journal report. The fall gator harvest saw prices rise 50 percent from two years earlier, forcing Ralph Lauren, for example, to raise the price of its most prestigious alligator purse to $14,000, and hide prices were expected to rise another 50 percent this summer. (Alligator shoes, shirts and coats have also soared in price, and the alligator-paneled piano sold by Giorgio's of Palm Beach now costs $950,000.) [Wall Street Journal, 3-18-06]

And as always, thanks for listening!

Sunday, October 17, 2010

In The News

The Classic Middle Name (all-new!)
Arrested recently and awaiting trial for murder: Larry Wayne Call, Faith, N.C. (September); Kenneth Wayne Carlson, Hines Creek, Alberta, Canada (August); Timothy Wayne Morgan, Eugene, Ore. (August); Julius Wayne Willis Jr., Minneapolis (July); Scott Wayne Eby, Wilmington, Ill. (May, charged in a 2004 murder); Douglas Wayne Jones, Oxford, Miss. (May); Kenneth Wayne Rogers, Dallas (April, charged in a 2008 murder). Indicted for murder recently and awaiting trial: Gary Wayne Pettigrew, Tarrant County, Texas (August, indicted in a 1983 murder). Pleaded guilty to murder: Edward Wayne Edwards, Akron, Ohio (August, involving a 1977 murder, not the ones News of the Weird listed him for in August 2009). Convicted of murder: David Wayne Alexander, Pittsburgh (July 2009). Call: [Charlotte Observer, 7-8-10] Carlson: [Edmonton Journal, 8-22-10] Morgan: [KPTV (Portland), 8-17-10] Willis: [City Pages (Minneapolis), 7-7-10] Eby: [Chicago Tribune, 6-13-10] Jones: [Oxford (Miss.) Eagle, 5-18-10] Rogers: [Dallas Morning News, 4-14-10] Pettigrew: [Fort Worth Star-Telegram, 8-28-10] Edwards: [The News-Herald (Willoughby, Ohio), 8-26-10] Alexander: [Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, 7-8-09]

And as always, thanks for listening!

Friday, October 15, 2010

When The Frost Is On The Pumpkin....

WHEN the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock, And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin' turkey-cock, And the clackin' of the guineys, and the cluckin' of the hens, And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence; O, it's then the time a feller is a-feelin' at his best, With the risin' sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest, As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock, When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock. They's something kindo' harty-like about the atmusfere When the heat of summer's over and the coolin' fall is here— Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossoms on the trees, And the mumble of the hummin'-birds and buzzin' of the bees; But the air's so appetizin'; and the landscape through the haze Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days Is a pictur' that no painter has the colorin' to mock— When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock. The husky, rusty russel of the tossels of the corn, And the raspin' of the tangled leaves as golden as the morn; The stubble in the furries—kindo' lonesome-like, but still A-preachin' sermuns to us of the barns they growed to fill; The strawstack in the medder, and the reaper in the shed; The hosses in theyr stalls below—the clover overhead!— O, it sets my hart a-clickin' like the tickin' of a clock, When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock. Then your apples all is gethered, and the ones a feller keeps Is poured around the cellar-floor in red and yaller heaps; And your cider-makin's over, and your wimmern-folks is through With theyr mince and apple-butter, and theyr souse and sausage too!... I don't know how to tell it—but ef such a thing could be As the angels wantin' boardin', and they'd call around on me— I'd want to 'commodate 'em—all the whole-indurin' flock— When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.

And as always, thanks for listening!