Whatever happened to honoring someone on their special occasions by getting off one's lazy ass and taking a trip to the local Hallmark store (with those cute names they used to have like "Gertrude's Hallmark")? People can't plunk down $1.50 for a nice card anymore? Well, maybe not $1.50 but perhaps $2.49 might do the trick. But I digress.
No, nowadays, we all just log on to the Internet and send someone some lame e-greeting for no charge at all. No time spent driving to the store. No spending half an hour reading each and every card (especially the racy one's for the guy's even if it's your wife that you're buying for). Oops, I digress again.
I long for the days when people cared! Cards were cards! People were people! Hookers were cheap! Damn, there I go again.
Anyway, I suppose a nice blog posting is as good as any card would be.
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33 comments:
I suppose, as the old adage goes, it is the thought that counts. Hell, if that were the case, you would be in Madrid getting pole vaulted by a bull, you cheap bastard! but I digress.
I'm not certain what has happened to manners these days. I recall a time when, not only one would get a card, but also a nice lunch or dinner, AND a fancy gift. Maybe, I'm old fashioned, but it's the least someone can do to keep civilation from falling into the pits of cannibalism.
You now have 365 days to contemplate how to save up $3.96 for an appropriate folded cardboard greeeting with an inappropriate bikini clad hooters girl. Actually, can I have the money instead?
Well I feel better! I may not have sent a card or gift but I did go out for a nice lunch today. What's more, you've given me a great idea for next year. That's right, I'm going to Hooters baby!
You may want to fill out an application while there since I called your boss pretending to be an upset banker in need of some answers! Boy, was he mad. In fact, I explained to him that you typically spent more time at Hooters than at work, and that is usually where I find you, in a drunken stupor of course. Now do NOT get me started on what I said to your wife. . .
Wow, my lucky day! It just so happens that my boss is big hooters fan. Or should I say a fan of big hooters? Either way, I think I just nailed that big promotion.
Too bad he already promised the promotion to that Hooter's waitress, but I'm sure if you quit wearing those embarrasing tight orange shorts, that he may keep you since you're good with a broom
Damn. I'll have to go back to that Chippendales gig I had before. The tip's were tremendous but I felt so cheap!
I think I heard about you in that living art display where you played a chippendale chair. Wood you believe that you were going against the grain? Knot!!!
You're apparently trying to leave the subject with this new way of needling me. I doubt our readers are rooting for you. Whatever, I'm pine with it. I'll run rings around you regardless.
Oak-y, I see that you're trying to branch out now, but think you're really going out on a limb with this one. You will take the fall for this one.
I think you're going against the grain in your posts. Wood you please clarify? I'm a stickler for details. I think I've burnished enough points for you to respond. Leave me alone.
I'm floored by your comments. I tried to be nice by carving some time out of my day, and you swing by and climb all over me. Why don't you go back where you came from, you transplant from Timber-tu. Dig that!
You blockhead! I pulled your comments from 2005 and you didn't even notice. I guess I stumped you. Maybe you'd be concerned if our blog was more poplar.
Now cedar down, you son of a beech, before I kick your ash. You've got some big balsa for picking on me, you fruit! I was just milling around veneer this blog.
Why do you keep milling around? Apparently you're not very deciduous. After those kinds of comments I should just beat you to a pulp. However, I'm afraid you'll talk to the papers and I don't want to be reamed. Of course, I could always sue you and make a bundle. What the heck, let's just turn the page.
No need to get so crumpled. I thought we could bond first before leaving my watermark, but it's obvious to me that you have that I could hurt you since I was the heavyweight boxing champion in my day. Now I need to bolt, since my throat is parchment dry.
Hey, I think I hear you being paged. Probably the D.A. ready to throw the book at you. Too bad you're such a jelly spine; you're really in a bind this time. I'm surprised you haven't flipped.
You worm! I think your comments speak volumes about your character. I wish I could catalog all your nonsense. I could easily library you with my wit, since you're getting slow in this new chapter in your aging. Now leave me alone, before I sentence you to 50 lashes with a wet noodle!
I don't like the contents of your post. I think your plotting to take over this blog.
Do you think you're the authority on this blog? You need to be a little quicker in your posts since you're as slow as an elefont. Many times, I commented, and new you'd respond late after you were done roman some title-lating hooters restaurant. I'm always careful to respond, like an arial tightrope walker.
What you need to hear can't be posted, it's too cursive. A family newspaper couldn't print it; there would be too many letters to the editor. Oh, you're quite a character - somebody needs to flip you a digit if you know what I mean.
You speak like you're reading from a bad movie script which only underscores how plain you really are. Perhaps, you can copy someone who's more of an "A" type personality instead of pretending to be that cruel old Roman Emperor Calligraphy.
You people seem to be puncuating your comments with some bold statements. I don't like that type, face it. I may have to take a break for a period from your brand of commady.
I vowel to stay for a spell even though you're consonantly keeping me semiconscious with your ramblings while pretending to be like Colon Powell. Aster-isk this really necessary? What a capital idea? Before I lower my standards further, please get off my case!
You know you can't justify those comments you left, right?
I'm beginning to feel much maligned as the center of this discussion. This space just isn't big enough for us, bar none. Maybe this is just a phrase that you're going through, but you seem to be a Control freak, like Alan Alt-a to say Delete-st!
You can go on your Mary way with this nonsense but I'm getting Tylered of it and won't participate any Moore!
Clever the way you wove in the last two comments. Guess, I finished second, and I base that on my first comment. Any chance I can be Frank with you before I get hit on the head with a big cub?
Don't get short with me, buddy. Stop it right now! And what's with the third degree? I think you should be sacked from this blog.
No wonder readership is down. Astro through this blog while turfing the web would make one wonder if your were loaded, and make you run home where it would be safe. Go to sleep, you have bags under your eyes.
So what else is New? York beating a dead horse. By George, you couldn't Yank me from this blog with a simple Bronx cheer!
By George, I think you are Fostering a myth. I never Met anyone with such a Darryllict attitude. Right back at you with a blowing strawberry!
Listen to that hooker you were with last night and just Keith your mouth shut. And stay away from Her nandez too, by the way! I can't believe you used that old line about making magic together. You're such a lugee.
Are you referring to the night in CalGary when she wore her Carter belt? I vividly remember how she looked against the Wally standing there with her Back, Man! Wasn't that in a Howard Johnson?
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