Monday, December 13, 2004
It's official: Our office has the safest microwave in the world.
God knows you couldn't possibly BURN yourself from the heat, which is NONEXISTENT.
Somebody needs to get a clue. Or a new microwave.
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You heard it here first, or maybe you didn't: Mark your calendars for Friday. Me and Nancy Freeman will actually attempt, without the benefit of free food or nudity, to entertain you all for nearly three hours at Fiddler's Dream. Starts at eight.
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We went to a christmas ornament and light-hanging tree party or something like that at our friends Pete and Donna's house on Saturday and it's amazing how quickly a tree goes up when multiple hands who know what they're doing put it up. And clumsy dolts like me stay safely away.
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This Saturday night is like Party Central for us. We're going to attempt to hit 3 (count 'em, 3) parties over the course of the evening. Our apologies to those we're missing but our clones are booked, too.
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My mom sold her house in Fountain Hills. She's moving in January to an apartment in FH closer to my dad, who's in an assisted care facility -- read "Old Folks Home." (He's got Alzheimer's and lasting effects from a stroke.) Don't get me wrong, it's a very nice place, and he NEEDS to be there.
We went over to Mom's yesterday to take possession of some things that she doesn't want to move with, because she won't have room for them in the new place. We laid claim on a bookshelf. Now: How do we get it to our house? That remains to be seen.
My mom's a real brick regarding most things but yesterday I could see that living in that big house has too many connections to my dad's current condition. She's going to be a lot happier in the new place.
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Radio programmers are chickenshits.
No more so chickenshit than the Program Director of a certain local radio station where a certain local friend of mine has, since pretty much the PLEISTOCENE ERA, put together and hosted the finest Christmas Radio Show in existence. Hours and hours of Christmas songs you WANT to hear, by everybody from Tom Lehrer to Cheech and Chong to Elmo and Patsy to the Fab Four to...well you name it.
NOT this year. No, chickenshit program director -- who DOESN'T EVEN LIVE HERE -- decided people don't want to hear this extremely popular show anymore.
But you can hear it if you have a computer. Tune in starting on Christmas Eve evening and check out the show on www.radiofreephoenix.com -- it will change your life -- or at least how you spend Christmas.
TT
God knows you couldn't possibly BURN yourself from the heat, which is NONEXISTENT.
Somebody needs to get a clue. Or a new microwave.
------
You heard it here first, or maybe you didn't: Mark your calendars for Friday. Me and Nancy Freeman will actually attempt, without the benefit of free food or nudity, to entertain you all for nearly three hours at Fiddler's Dream. Starts at eight.
------
We went to a christmas ornament and light-hanging tree party or something like that at our friends Pete and Donna's house on Saturday and it's amazing how quickly a tree goes up when multiple hands who know what they're doing put it up. And clumsy dolts like me stay safely away.
------
This Saturday night is like Party Central for us. We're going to attempt to hit 3 (count 'em, 3) parties over the course of the evening. Our apologies to those we're missing but our clones are booked, too.
------
My mom sold her house in Fountain Hills. She's moving in January to an apartment in FH closer to my dad, who's in an assisted care facility -- read "Old Folks Home." (He's got Alzheimer's and lasting effects from a stroke.) Don't get me wrong, it's a very nice place, and he NEEDS to be there.
We went over to Mom's yesterday to take possession of some things that she doesn't want to move with, because she won't have room for them in the new place. We laid claim on a bookshelf. Now: How do we get it to our house? That remains to be seen.
My mom's a real brick regarding most things but yesterday I could see that living in that big house has too many connections to my dad's current condition. She's going to be a lot happier in the new place.
------
Radio programmers are chickenshits.
No more so chickenshit than the Program Director of a certain local radio station where a certain local friend of mine has, since pretty much the PLEISTOCENE ERA, put together and hosted the finest Christmas Radio Show in existence. Hours and hours of Christmas songs you WANT to hear, by everybody from Tom Lehrer to Cheech and Chong to Elmo and Patsy to the Fab Four to...well you name it.
NOT this year. No, chickenshit program director -- who DOESN'T EVEN LIVE HERE -- decided people don't want to hear this extremely popular show anymore.
But you can hear it if you have a computer. Tune in starting on Christmas Eve evening and check out the show on www.radiofreephoenix.com -- it will change your life -- or at least how you spend Christmas.
TT
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