Peeps -
Enough of the congrats on the Blog anniversary!!!
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I would never have mentioned it if I thought that everyone was going to get so sappy and emotional.
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It's just a blog....
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You've got to find more substance in your lives.
Speaking of which, the POTW selections may be delayed this evening because I have to attend a business dinner in Albany, NY.... then drive all the way back to Marblehead. Not to panic though, because this weeks nominations are not too difficult. As aways, I am open to your suggestions for selection, and will continue to ignore most of them.
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4 comments:
I suggest you begin preparing your home for a long, hard winter. Enough with this boat building megalomania. Time to batten down the hatches.
I also suggest you try out for Survivor. That would be something, a great venue for your pontifications, and a test of your mettle. Plus they always have at least one chick on it with big, round, fabulous eyes.
Hey J-
This happened last friday night against the Orioles and I almost got fired for it. Notice how the guy puts his hands in the air to surrender long before I hit him. Then I just hit him as hard as I could anways. Haha, once your on the field their is no surrender so don't stop running or you get pancaked.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Mg1OX5IgnA
-McMahon
It was October 1, 1949. That Chink Mao was declaring the world was red, Frankie Laine released the album "Mule Train", which made me snuffle for ole Sal, and Dick Button won the men's figure skating championships. He sure could glide, that Dick. I was making my way to do some logging as I was a lumberjack, hoboing on Sardis & Delta Railroad near Sardis, Mississippi. What once was an honorable craft, hoboing around for work, was becoming a boiling cauldron of theivin', gamblin', and whorin', with the not infrequent enough encounter with buggery preverts. It was fall, and there was plenty of wood to chop and send down the river, and I was plenty hungry, having only eaten a red capped woodpecker and some cow corn in the past week. My body smelled, my teeth hurt, and my droppings were as hard as a cow's turd in winter. It was a tryin' time for this pilgrim, leading this life that was not at one with nature, as I had a great fondness for things of the woods, but was chopping down trees, which was where my friends, the birds of the sky, resided, and I had nothing to eat. Momma had learnt us not to steal, but poppa would steal a hot stove if it was available, and he was no worse, though now paralyzed due to being hit on the head with a sledge hammer by an angry Chinese feller in pajamas who was working the railroad, and did not like poppa stealing his poppy paste that made the town folk drool. No good rice eatin heathen! It was at this time that the local orchard was pulling in the apples, and the town folk was pressing cider and curing hams, and boy o boy did I like cider and ham. So, I took the road into town, and decided to look around for an entreprenuer's opportunity, the kind of thing that made this fine country great, and the kind of thing that would stop me from molesting mother nature and get me some cider and ham. As I ambled into town, tape worm dangling, in need of a bath and a mule, it dawned on me. I was to . . . .
Seems like McMahon is looking to impress you with his feats of strength. Sounds like a gay.
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