My friends
Feel it's their appointed duty
So, here I sit.
I am feeling a little on the mischievous side.
After a certain age, Sunday becomes a marvelous, marvelous day.
Understated, richly enjoyed, without hesitation or second thought to what may come the morrow.
Or, as William Wallace said, "No the now."
Aye.
I've got a serial mid-lumbar issue kicking.
My L-4 has been barking the entire summer and fall.
Maybe it is all the rocking I have been doing.
You need to know that I typo'd that sentence: "Maybe it is all the rocking I have been dong."
I have been dong indeed.
Long Duck Dong.
No more yanky my wanky.
Donger need food.
I am digging on this Ray LaMontagne song called "Three More Days."
My acoustic guitar got jacked up last night.
It already needed some work on the bridge, but last night, the strap came off and it hit the deck.
The battery pack that powers the pickup came done clear out of the geetar, and the plastic housing of said pack is cracked.
A piece of athletic tape later, and I kept rocking.
The weird thing is that I cannot clear a 4 or 5 day widnow when I can exist without it, so getting it the love it needs will be tricky.
The Dude Abides came within about 40 visitors of an all-time high last week.
I honestly have no idea why.
Well, I know my post about the Mitten starting as a Norwegian Death Metal band was funny, but how do random readers know when it is funny?
I don't even know when it is going to be funny.
[I should note that it is a growing trend that people around me know what is happening inside my head before I do.
Either I am retarded and completely transparent (an example would be when you see a kid crossing his legs, doing a little dance and grabbing his crotch... you say, "Duder, you gotta go to the bathroom?" and his eyes light up like you just read his mind), or everyone around me is psychic.
I am betting on the former.]
I am feeling a little on the mischievous side.
After a certain age, Sunday becomes a marvelous, marvelous day.
Understated, richly enjoyed, without hesitation or second thought to what may come the morrow.
Or, as William Wallace said, "No the now."
Aye.
I've got a serial mid-lumbar issue kicking.
My L-4 has been barking the entire summer and fall.
Maybe it is all the rocking I have been doing.
You need to know that I typo'd that sentence: "Maybe it is all the rocking I have been dong."
I have been dong indeed.
Long Duck Dong.
No more yanky my wanky.
Donger need food.
I am digging on this Ray LaMontagne song called "Three More Days."
My acoustic guitar got jacked up last night.
It already needed some work on the bridge, but last night, the strap came off and it hit the deck.
The battery pack that powers the pickup came done clear out of the geetar, and the plastic housing of said pack is cracked.
A piece of athletic tape later, and I kept rocking.
The weird thing is that I cannot clear a 4 or 5 day widnow when I can exist without it, so getting it the love it needs will be tricky.
The Dude Abides came within about 40 visitors of an all-time high last week.
I honestly have no idea why.
Well, I know my post about the Mitten starting as a Norwegian Death Metal band was funny, but how do random readers know when it is funny?
I don't even know when it is going to be funny.
[I should note that it is a growing trend that people around me know what is happening inside my head before I do.
Either I am retarded and completely transparent (an example would be when you see a kid crossing his legs, doing a little dance and grabbing his crotch... you say, "Duder, you gotta go to the bathroom?" and his eyes light up like you just read his mind), or everyone around me is psychic.
I am betting on the former.]
posted by Joe at
8:00 PM
3 Comments:
That last sentence made it really funny. :-)
"You beat up my face!"
"She not here. She get mah-weed."
We love you, Dude. Even when you have to pee.
What's a happenin' hot stuff?
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