No, seriously…

Comments

1. MrsDarwin says

   April 26, 2011 at 2:15 pm

   Absolutely nothing can harsh my mellow after this trip.

   Reply
2. JOB says

   April 26, 2011 at 2:46 pm

   Three observations (and for the record I made it as far as :55 before I tasted the bile rising like some Deep Horizon redux in my esophagus):

   1. Polygamy was not included among the values being defended.

   2. The Siblings Osmond are signaling in this piece that they a) stole an early working script of the Empire Strikes Back or b) were startlingly prescient about the relationship between Luke and Leia.

   3. Donny is not wearing his magic underwear on stage. The folks in Utah will not like that.

   JOB

   Reply
   • Matthew Lickona says

     April 26, 2011 at 3:34 pm

     Do you seriously mean you missed C-3PO and R2-D2, Redd Foxx as Obi-Wan, Kris Kristofferson as Han Solo, and the dancing Stormtroopers? Have a drink and try again.

     Reply
     • JOB says

       April 27, 2011 at 9:12 am

       I did go back later and, with sound decidedly muted, clicked and dragged the pacer through the rest of the winning cast.

       Foxx was more than offset by the Kristofferson (what’s with the helmet and why is he wearing a storm troopers weapons belt?).

       Jack Lynn as the Gov also was a treat. But again, offset by the dancing stormettes.

       I will try it in sound with a drink for sure – next Lent!

       JOB

       Reply
       • JOB says

         April 27, 2011 at 9:15 am

         Er, that’s Paul Lynde, I meant.

         Reply
3. Jonathan Webb says

   April 27, 2011 at 8:28 am

   Because we knew you weren’t ready.

   Reply
4. Jonathan Webb says

   April 27, 2011 at 6:25 pm

   I’m moving deep up the Congo River that I may go mad.

   Reply
   • JOB says

     April 28, 2011 at 7:09 am

     Kurtz Unbound

     These blackest waters glisten in the sun;
     As black, the sweat that falls across my gun.
     “Is it time,” whispers Magobee the slave,
     “To cut the anchor chain?” We note a wave
     That urges us adrift. “Our journey’s done,”
     I say. “This river, my lover, our grave….”

     Reply