MY DEMENTED DIARY

Oh by the way, folks,
oldest entries are deleted
to keep the total entry
count at 666 because
that number is sure to
rile up somebody who
sorely needs it.

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My more serious diary:
A Walk Through the
Valley of the Shadow

My Heroic Ballads

My Facebook Page

Today we wish a fond Happy Birthday to Bill Clinton, born in 1946.

Back when Bill Clinton was president, one of my co-workers (a tailhook pilot, so you already know he's strange) used to come in every morning and give a five or ten minute speech about how he thought Chelsea Clinton was hopelessly ugly.

So one morning as soon as he came in, I said, "Hey Don, don'tcha think Chelsea Clinton is just the cutest little girl you've ever seen?"

So he spent at least fifteen minutes ranting and raving about how ugly he thought she was.

So I said, "Hey, imagine her with a sex change and aged a few years and wearing a lieutenant-commander uniform and guess who she'd look an awful lot like!"

So he spent the next twenty minutes delineating, in graphic detail, which body part I oughta stuff up into which bodily orifice.

Ah, memories! I'd never give them up for anything!

And so here I am after about four days of having a cellaphone so small it fits into the credit-card zipper-pocket of my key case, feeling like I've forgotten something because I don't have a cellaphone hanging on my belt. Oh well, I guess I can get used to the lack of inconvenience.

Today is graveyard-mowing day again, and it's gonna rain. Oh well, us tough dudes ain't gonna melt. We'll get the job done.

Happy Wednesday!

OrneryPest