NASCAR
August 25, 2007
The cop said I should be in NASCAR because I always turn to the left and I drive FAST. Then he let me go.
Posted at: 11:54 PM | 1 Comment | Add Comment | Permalink
Jumpin' Gee Crickets!
August 23, 2007
Crickets play the violin like no other. I'm sure you'll agree. Ready to move next week. Same roommates, 3 BR instead of 2 BR, washer and dryer included, a stoplight instead of free-for-all to enter or exit, and no speedbumps. That's very important. I would first eliminate all speedbumps if I were a politician, but I ain't evil enough yet.
I've got relatives losing eyes and knees left and right, so I've been making sacrifices of fine lamb lately. It's a barbecue that I give to some wandering priests. They like it, and I hope God does, too.
Three weeks until the wedding. I'll let you know if anyone elopes. I would like a pet jackalope, if anyone can get me one. Or the sacred cow that I asked for so long ago! Thanks.
Virtuously,
Sir Brian See
Posted at: 09:49 PM | 2 Comments | Add Comment | Permalink
Have you seen???
August 23, 2007
www.jestermonkey.com lately? that place is crazy. for food, folks, and fun, you could do worse than to visit the jester monkey. it has a really cool google search bar, too, that gets much-needed banana money for the starving jester. so whenever you're gonna google, go to your favorites list and google with jester monkey. You won't regret it. He's cooler than Mojo, Homer's sometimes helper monkey. That's right, read blogs and do searches like the cool people do, at
WWW.JESTERMONKEY.COM ! [paid for by the Adopt-a-Monkey Foundation]
Posted at: 02:02 PM | 0 Comments | Add Comment | Permalink
Still Gone Fission
August 14, 2007
I lost the blog I wrote at first, so this will be short and angry. Round 7 of chemo yesterday and today. Going well. Went vampire on two pints of blood last Thursday for hemoglobin reasons. I'm going to Taco John's when I'm in Bemidji, so make your reservations now if you want my autograph or political favors. Soap on the lettuce--ah, so perfect. Potato oles, greased in the highest Mexican-Irish tradition. Powdered soda with water--sorry. It's pop, pop, not soda, I've forgotten. I've changed so much. No, not the eyepatch. Not the two holes in my eyelid which are separated only by a thin column of skin in the middle which will soon collapse, causing more weirdness, through which Anastasia goes fishing for dried mucus chunks with tweezers every few days--no. Not the always red eyelid from being stretched too thin--no. Not the eyepatch--no. That's a great fight starter at bars. No, it is my exchange of "soda" for "pop." I am sorry. I will do my best while I am up there to say "pop." I may need help. Please help. Umm, er, ah...
My ten-year high school reunion was last weekend. Hardly anyone knew because supposedly the organizers had trouble...
[More]
Posted at: 01:35 AM | 2 Comments | Add Comment | Permalink
