Okay. I ding the K.C. professional ball teams every time I get a gas blockage. Sometimes, I’ll admit, I get gas thinking about K.C. professional ball teams.
I suppose once every thirty-nine years I can live with a cheery headline announcing a K.C. professional ball team goes to a Series or Bowl game. Maybe.
But for the sake of journalistic honesty, I do not have to seal my negative lips when I see a headline like:
Lets face it. There aren’t five reasons. There’s only ONE. They won the damn games and the play-offs.
Much as it might grab others short hairs.
Lets face it, right. There’s gravity, therefore we don’t fly away – or we exist. Stuff happens. (This is a family orientated blog after all)
And, George, you lived long enough after all. Congratulations.
So. Lets talk Football. Umm. Not K..C. or Redskins, please. No, no. Just skip sports, okay.
Okay. The only other thing I’m into today is Syria/Iraq/ISIS bombing raids, American Ebola, no nonsense, eradications.
Which is like asking George Brett to live long enough for the Royals to duplicate next year. Though there is that chance. Long live, George.
Did I tell you tell you what I told the staff at the eye clinic when they asked me how my day was going? I probably did, I know I told Housekeeper. She pursed her lips and kept a straight face until she got the laundry door closed and then I swear I heard her giggle.
I told the staff that my day was going badly. When they asked how that was, I told them they hadn’t gotten me glasses as yet and I couldn’t read the articles in the newest Porn magazine. About all I could do was look at the pictures, and those not too well.
Women are wonders. They managed to do about the same as Housekeeper, except they put me in a dark room and closed the door, and telling me to wait there for the doctor.
She finally showed up, but I didn’t tell her what I’d said.
From the reaches,