“…woe is me, there’s nothing like waking up to a barking dog that is not mine. And the screaming and wailing of five cats in continuous heat who beat the crap out of each other nightly on the roof of the same neighbor who owns the barking dog of which we spoke earlier.”
Edgar sneers at [...]
Well, blow me down. Shiver me timbers, matey. Am I always the last to know? Picasa for MAC!? Obviously Flannagan would write about such an occurance with more clarity and finesse, had he not participated in painful activities this weekend and now was dependent upon prescription pain killers for relief. He? She? Who cares, my [...]
“Far be it from me to ridicule genius or to accuse anyone of silliness, but it has come to my attention that some of you are not paying attention. I must insist! Please, you over by the canister vacuum, please join the others in your group. Right this way, Miss Fabersham, let us through … [...]
“I am a Southerner by trade,” Happiness looks at Flannagan, her head askew as she peers above the half-glasses in such a way that is known to her friends as the Intimidation Inquest, “You may refer to me as a belle, but not in such a derogatory way. Northern? Southern? Midwestern? Your Missouri background offers [...]
The Dude may abide at the bowling alley, but here at the Spatulate Center it’s all about Happiness. Flannagan’s neice, Happiness Chowder, arrived two days ago with her easel and duck. As the most preeminent cucumber sculptress, Mrs. Chowder enjoys fame across every continent including China. Her cuccumbers grace the foyers of such home as [...]
Oh, terror. Oh and it causes such discord amongst the patrons. It’s horrid, dear readers. Someone must endeavor to explain the problem. Problems!
It happened thusly
(this episode available in 15 minutes or less, photos are being processed as we type)
Netflix lists Waiting for Guffman in the drama category. If you’ve seen the movie, you’ll appreciate the humor in that.
