I Ain't No Oprah: August 2008

Sunday, August 31, 2008

Gustav update

I just want to assure my gentle readers that no matter how bad GUSTAV gets, we (the staff at I AIN'T NO OPRAH) will stay and not flee.

There will be hijinx.

Mayhem.

Looting.

No stupid hurricane is going to keep us (the staff at I AIN'T NO OPRAH) away from our duties.

We will stay.

We will not flee.

We are men. We stay.

Hijinx.

Mayhem.

Looting.

It's our mantra.

It's our code.

So use the letters G U S T A V, in order,to write a six word sentence. It must be related to weather. Or storms.

Or the crocodile named Gustave.

Saturday, August 30, 2008

An upcoming anniversary...not as good as 9/11 perhaps...

Having coffeee with Wifey this morning:

WIFEY: "We should do such and such for our upcoming anniversary."

ME: "Amazing that we've been together so long, huh?"

WIFEY: "It's been WAY too long."

ME: :::sad eyes:::

WIFEY: "I didn't mean that in a bad way."

Friday, August 29, 2008

No Subject In The Subject Box Day

So last night is the famed Buddy Nite and we go out to this restaurant.

As you walk in there is a hostess that seats the folks in the restaurant to the left. Or you can just walk into the bar area on the right and eat in there.

We go into the bar area and have no contact with said hostess.

But from our seats in the bar area we can still see Little Miss Hostess.

Kinda.

And the Hoag is intrigued. To say the least.

But he can't really see all of her. Her back is usually towards the bar and it's driving the Hoag nuts that he can't see her face.

But he sees the long pretty blond hair. The shapely body. The voodoo that she does so well.

But again, not her face.

Dinner proceeds but with this distraction.

The constant moaning of the Hoag demanding "turn around turn around turn around"

And me asking "more bread more bread more bread"

A half hour goes by. Forty five minutes.

She bends over. She reaches up high. Nice shoes. Good walk.

Still no sightings of her face.

"Turn around turn around turn around"

She doesn't.

She seats diners.

She does whatever else a hostess does.

She bends.

She flips hair.

She reaches way up....up on her tippy toes....she laughs. Even cavorts.

But still no face sightings

More time goes by.

Finally Hoag turns to me and this is the conversation:

HOAG: "Do me a favor Buddy?"

ME: "Sure Hoag, anything for a Buddy like you!"

HOAG: "Quack like a duck so she'll turn around."

ME: "Pass me the bread."

Thursday, August 28, 2008

REMINDER: Next week is make fun of John McCain's Neck Week

And his "war injuries"

Shiny hair.

Years ago someone told me that if you washed your hair with cold water you'd have shiny hair.

So I showered and washed my hair in cold water.

And my hair shined.

It was the 1970s and my hair was very long.

And shiny.

But the showers were cold.

Hair was shiny.

Cold hair.

But shiny.

And this went on for a couple of years.

I dreaded the cold shower.

But I had shiny hair.

And then one day I woke up and thought to myself:

'Why the heck do I want shiny hair anyhow?'

I had no answer.

So I took a hot shower. A wonderful hair dulling hot shower!

MORAL OF THE STORY?

There is no moral to this story.

SO TO SUM UP:

There is nothing to sum up.

POINT OF THE STORY?

The point is that cold water makes your hair shiny.

CONCLUSION?

Hot showers>cold showers

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PS
Me and the Hoag are getting stood up tonight by the Blonde...seems she'd rather listen to the future leader of the free world give his speech than listen to me and dull-haired Hoag talk about cold showers.

Or something.