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| Friday
May 14 2004. |
GRASS.
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| Now
why would anyone want to cut their grass at quarter to seven in the
morning? The guy on the corner of my street did. I wonder if his name is
Bob too?
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INVASION.
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BEST BIRTHDAY PRESENT.
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Cicadas On The Back Deck Watch:
| Monday |
1 |
| Tuesday |
5 |
| Wednesday |
8 |
| Thursday |
29 |
| *Friday |
Holy
Shit! |
* I made
an attempt to count them, but there were so many of them flying onto and off of
the deck that I gave up. Plus, they kept flying blindly into my head. Little
creeps!
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BUGGY BASTARDS.
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For those of you who aren't blessed with living in the eastern part of
the U.S., you're missing out on the Great Cicada Plague of 2004. These
inch-long critters come out of the ground once every 17 years (which
begs the question: what do they do in the ground for that long?) and
pretty much overrun any wooded areas. Millions of 'em! Fortunately,
these red-eyed uglies will be around only for a month or two. But until
they're gone, this biblical plague of poor-flying bastards is creating
havoc. I can't go out on the back deck without being bombarded by one
every 30 seconds. And the mating noises they make are beyond annoying. With
hundreds of thousands of them humming and buzzing at once, it sounds like the
phasers on the original Star Trek. It can be quite deafening. Of course,
Luke is loving life. He keeps whining at the back door to go out and
have a few cicada snacks. He's eating them like they're frickin' potato
chips.
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SLEEP-MOLT-FLY-SEX-DIE.
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Grass,
Invasion, Mullets, Buggy Bastards, Sleep-Molt-Fly-Sex-Die, Best
Birthday Present, and Stinky Delivery. |
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MULLETS.
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STINKY DELIVERY.
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I
had a dream last night I had hair. It was all out of control and it was
pissing me off. Those kind of dreams
are bad for business for a balding fellow like me. |
I was reminded of a good Barney Story last night: One unassuming day at
work, Barney found that his big toe had popped out through a hole in his
sock. Not wanting to go the whole day with his toe sticking out, Barney
simply took off his sock. But what to do with it? Trash it? Put it in a
desk drawer to take home later? Nope. Not the Barney. He popped in an
envelope, sealed it up, addressed it to our friend Darrell, and off in
the mail it went.
Darrell later said that he was stunned to get a ratty old sock in the mail.
Yeah, no kidding.
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2000-2004 by gja.
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