Saw a truck for forklift service and hollered out my car window at them, asking if they’d seen Ken…
I walk ‘round the house singing Leonard Cohen. Leonard Cohen.
I’m a fan of the quartet of Hamilton, Joe, Frank and Reynolds.
Or is it the duo of Hamilton Joe Frank and Reynolds?
The last time I went to the beach, there was a beach patrol jeep driving by, and I called out, “Did I tell you that my tires are filled with water!?!?!”
Winkle and Jiggle and Wiggle and Rock, Jingle and Wingle and Wiggle and Rock, Jiggle and Wingle and Wriggle and Rock, Slip and Slide Away, Oh, Jiggle and Wiggle and Wriggle and Rock!
Thinking of rushing the Halloween season by biting into a whole raw cauliflower and announcing, “Fortunately I LOVE REAL BRAINS!!”
(Yes, that’s a travel-backwards-in-time two-fer.)
I see an old bloke showing up at the end of the movie and think that I’m about to watch a Pink Floyd music video.
It’s one person: Hamilton Joe Frankenreynolds.
He’s Hamilton Joe Frankenreynolds’ monster.
You’re both wrong. It’s his hooker.
I thank RADAR for just about everything!
“HOOKER’S A GOOD COP!!”
I just bought a pound of ground chuck, and now I have an earworm.
Anytime my wife and I come anywhere near train tracks one of us inevitably says “Why don’t they look?”
I am compelled to sigh when mentioning sigh… onions.
I have interests in purchasing a Sampo TV for reasons that are known only to me and a chosen few.
I mix up ladders and rope all the time.
I’m at peace when I confuse bok choy with cabbage.
I’m like the wind baby. Nobody gets me.