The Price is Right...
I had this disturbing dream last night that I was doing the horizontal with Bob Barker. I have no idea why. I don't even watch his show. I do not discriminate based upon the year scrawled on one's birth certificate, but there is something such as age appropriateness. What is he now, like 90? This was not appropriate.
The dream lingers with me this morning and makes it hard to think about anything else. Is there some subliminal message I'm not getting? Like, is the price right for that new chair I'm wanting? Do I need to come on down and buy it? Does someone I know need to be spayed or neutered?
Perhaps I can find my way through the visual train wreck to the message beneath. Regardless, when it comes to Bob and me, the price will never be right, I will never come on down, not even if we've both been spayed and neutered...
There, now I feel somewhat better.
To bring you all up to date on potential guest bloggists I share with you the following:
The nun remains mum. Perhaps she still holds true to her vow of silence, or perhaps she didn't find me amusing, or perhaps she's still on Christmas break and hasn't checked her email at the school.
Bubba - I did email Viggo. I even promised to let him talk about his beloved horses and what we could do to save them. I even vowed we'd all sign the petition to be put before Congress. What did I get? Not a word...
I have secured one guest bloggist, perhaps he'll show on Monday. I think you'll appreciate his sense of humor and his views on many things. I'm keeping it a secret until he shows. You just never know when someone may cancel and I surely don't want to disappoint you.
Santa sent me something for Mikeeeee. He said "Sorry it's late Mikeeeee, but I don't read minds. You're lucky I didn't get you what you really asked for or you'd be spending New Years applying aloe to your ass. Merry Christmas."
And for Snubby, she took the time to write this fabulous poem for my Christmas Special and I deleted it upon error. If it were a contest she would have won. It's fantastic. Enjoy!
'Twas the night before Friday,
and all through the house,
not a creature was cleaning,
Not even a spouse.
The father was out
With the broad down the street,
The kids watching DVD's
with the machine on repeat.
The mother sat
And stared at the wall
What did she do
To deserve this all?
She does all the laundry,
She sweeps all the crumbs,
She cooks all the meals,
And cleans when they are done.
She can't get on the internet,
Or read a book or watch TV,
Someone is always crying,
Help me, help me, help me, me, me...
But for now, she has decided,
To hell with this shit...
She dreams of a world
With duckies and whales
Memoirs of Hollywood
And all its sordid tales.
She loves the politics,
The Rants and the Raves.
She loves the poetry;
The stories, the games...
She jumps out of her chair,
And yells, "Rance hold on!
I'm going to spring you,
and then we'll move on."
The kids look up,
With their mouths agape-r
And say "Mom!"
Rance is just some kid
Writing his term paper!
Mom sits back down
In her chair with a boom.
"Can't blame me for trying..."
"Go get me my broom..."
Later the kids tell
of mom's determination,
And Dad says, "Wow honey,
You have some imagination."
Mom swears,
"I'm not a crazy loon..."
I love my Rance,
From here to the moon.
Posted by captainhoof
at 10:16 AM CST