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This entry was posted on Friday, August 19th, 2016 at 10:15 am and is filed under simple pleasures. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.
This entry was posted on Friday, August 19th, 2016 at 10:15 am and is filed under simple pleasures. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.
The problem with cats is that they get the exact same look on their face whether they see a moth or an axe-murderer. —Paula Poundstone
Insanity does not run in my family. It strolls through, takes its time, and gets to know everyone personally.
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Home sweet home
Bob's sister Hannah
Bob's sister Ada
Bob's brother Otto
Bob's sister Eve
Bob's sister Nan
A baby picture of Bob and his siblings (clockwise from upper left: Otto, Eve, Hannah, Ada, Bob, and Nan)
Bob's childhood home
Bob's mom and dad
Bob in his youth
Bob's cousin Alphonse
Bob's Uncle Ralph and Aunt Edna
Bob's cousin Archibald
Bob's stepbrother Herbie (who really needs to quit smoking)
Bob's cousin Chester
Bob's Great Uncle Norbert and Great Aunt Phyllis
Bob's cousin Saffron (who will do anything for a drink)
Bob's cousin Thorndike
Bob's brother-in-law Vinnie
Bob's cousin Orville, who loves the Green Bay Packers
Bob's nieces Lulu and Bitsy, the biker chicks
Bob's stepsister Eloise, with the twins, Rudy and Trudy
Bob's Uncle Henry and Aunt Rowena
Bob's niece Esmerelda (who likes to live dangerously)
Bob's Great Uncle Arthur up in Saskatchewan
Bob's cousin Louie, the grackle of grumpiness
Miss Screech, Bob's journalism teacher
Bob's nephew Winthrop, who loves sports
Bob's Uncle Seymour and Aunt Bernice
Bob's second cousin Schlomo in Brooklyn
Bob's nephew Baxter
Bob's cousin Darrell
Bob's sister-in-law Delphine, who volunteers at the animal shelter
Percy the Pickpocket, Bob's third cousin once removed (the relative no one likes to talk about... every family has one)
The Bluebird of Happiness™ (no relation to Bob)
A pair of boobies (also no relation to Bob, but included for readers who desire titillation)
Bluebird Bitter™, the beer they named for Bob
Rick Astley is a true blast from the past, thanks for making me feel younger!
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Wow, I didn’t know I was capable of making people feel younger! I had superpowers I wasn’t even aware of. 🙂
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There was a USA comedian years ago, whose name escapes me now, who said Rick Astley was “just a white boy with a big old black voice”. So un-P.C., but so true.
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Words fail me.
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Reblogged this on Random Ramblings; Myriad Musings and commented:
LOL – a few Friday funnies to start the morning off right!
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Thank you for the re-blog. 🙂
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You have some great posts that are always worthy of reblogging – thank you for sharing them!
🙂
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Ahem… Many years ago in faraway London, 3 of my old grammarian friends were proceeding home from a rousing lecture on group nouns. They were competing merrily naming groups of this and that, when they passed a bevy of birds, er…prostitutes. Holding silence until out of earshot, the excitable Mr. Paisley interjected — Oh! I say! What a delightful jam of tarts, that!! O my, O my, O my no, dear boy — jabbered the rotund and bouncey Herbert Obloid — surely ’twas a veritable cornucopia of dollops of trollops !!! Their tall, august companion, Dr. Cornelius Cornwallis, flicked a speck off his black sleeve and intoned — we are quite the bonny troop, are we not? Why we just coolly strode right past that Pride of Loins, now didn’t we?
On Fri, Aug 19, 2016 at 11:15 AM, bluebird of bitterness wrote:
> bluebird of bitterness posted: ” ” >
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“Dollops of trollops” suggests possibilities for a limerick. 🙂
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There was a young girl from Madras
Who had a MAGNIFICENT ass!
Not rounded and pink,
As you probably think,
It was grey, had long ears, and ate grass!
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Reblogged this on Don Massenzio's Blog.
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Thanks for reblogging. 🙂
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My pleasure.
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