Lettuce see. September, October, this is November, which means three months since August, which further means a quarter of a year. A quarter!
This is a regular quarterly feature . . .
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You might be uninterested to know that I had a palindromic experience in bed the other night. I opened one eye, looked at the digital clock on the dresser, and it said, "10:01". The numbers were blurry and I could have been reading them half-backward with one eye closed, but I don’t think so.
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|Irish's adoption mug shot|
He doesn’t answer to Earl, and he certainly doesn’t answer to Bob Barker because he’s too damn busy barking to hear me. And that’s as it should be: the little guy only needs one name.
Since he has red hair and freckles, I thought Irish was a pretty good name. He slowly came around to it, especially once he associated it with his food bowl.
Now, if Martha would just stop calling him Beer Barrel and Pork Chop . . .
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And notice its intricate design—it almost looks like a hummingbird! Fifteen bucks, free shipping, made in China—heck, it should last a good two weeks before the baller breaks off the hummer—so how could I go wrong?
I’ll tell you how I could go wrong. Big time. Rule number 68,264 of Marriage for Male Dummies says, “NEVER give your wife kitchen appliances for her birthday, anniversary, or the ‘holidays’—elst you’ll find yourself sleeping in the doghouse with Pork Chop.”
I’ll let you know how things turn out in the next