Saturday, September 13, 2003
Flipping the channels I was catching that old movie Giant for a spell. You know, james dean, elizabeth taylor, that, damn what was his name? Closet homo his whole life, died of aids?? Dammitt. Anyway, he gets in this big fist fight with Sarge who’s running this diner because Sarge don’t like Mexicans in his establishment and like, dammitt, what is his name?? Burt something? Shit. Anyway, his grandson is half Mexican and the guy says like “that kid looks like he’d rather have a tamale” like rather than some ice cream, so burt whatever shit can’t remember his name, super famous actor, anyway, he gets in a nice ol brawl. actually he gets in the brawl when this other mexican family come in, and since their not "with" any haoles, like rock's daughter in law and grandson, sarge, bastard that he is, tells them they gotta vamoose. this poor old mexican guy and his wife and daughter, and he's like grabbing the guy, like "your money's no good here." well at this point rock hudson decides "fuck this, sarge is going down." it's a very brave moment, especially in that sarge is not a small man and has his "reserve the right to refuse service to anyone" sign as a legal if not moral precedent.
That’s a good cause that rock went to battle for, na mean, cuz I was wondering , what if closet homo actor character didn’t get in that fight with sarge, ya dig, like that could have been a pivotal moment in race relations even though it didn’t really happen. Maybe we have him to thank so that nowadays myself and Mrs. P can walk into virtually any ol’ place and have a nice meal and not have somebody like sarge giving us a hard time cuz she’s of a darker shade than me, well, I mean, there’s like some albinos that are of a darker shade than me, but that really wasn’t the, um, point I was gonna make, well, anyway.
And I caught myself wondering, this guy. FUCK I still can’t remember his name. Hold on, I’m gonna look it up. ROCK HUDSON!!! Thank you! Shit. (you may of noticed a flub in the timeline of this post, yes, you caught me, i went back and edited the prior paragraphs and put in the name rock hudson, so, um, sue me, i'll edit for logic's sake, but i can't edit edits, you know, the code, plus i'll probably get busted by carlton as it is. ok, moving on.) Actually I think I was thinking some other guys name, but anyway, it’s rock Hudson that beats this guy’s ass (well, actually gets his ass beaten) in this movie. Wait, I gotta verify this shit. Ok, yeah, verified, stamp my passport, it’s rock hudson, but there’s another old school closet gay Hollywood actor that is escaping my recognition, but, there comes a point where you gotta move on I guess.
Anyway, I caught myself wondering if Rock Hudson was like thinking “I’m striking a metaphorical blow against racism with this scene, or even a metaphorical blow for the gay contingent” or was he so deep in the closet he couldn’t see the connection? When you’re in the closet like even to yourself do you still think rationally of like your homosexuality?? These are the things I wonder about. That and, oh yeah! The cool thing about that scene that gets all heartwarming is, like, rock Hudson is getting his ass beat almost as bad as the University of Hawaii today, and all the women-folk are just crying and carrying on, but the little hapa Mexican kid is like smiling and looking at grandpa getting his ass beat and like almost giggling but not actually laughing. It’s like that ultimate wisdom that little children have. He’s probably thinking like “ok grandpa’s getting his closet gay ass beat to a pulp right now but in 20 years I’ll be able to date a white woman.” actually he probably couldn’t, not without heavy social stigma, cuz it still would have been like, jesus who knows, but a long time ago, and texas is all fucked up like that, not that I really know, I’m just going off of generalities, which is always a good idea when talking about race.
So yeah, so I just wonder about that. Was rock like seeing all these parallels between race relations and gay/straight people relations, or was it just such a taboo at the time to ever even think like that that his mind was shut down to it and he was just trying to make his goddamm per diem and hopefully find a nice tall glass of Jim Beam with some proper ice cubes that night. I mean, I’m curious, this guy was denying he was gay down to the last week. I mean people were like, uh, Rock, you got AIDS, and he’s like “tis just a flesh wound, um, I just caught a cold, now buzz off, and um, you with the Chippendales uniform, you can stay, um, I might need help with my, um, something or other.” in any event, rock was a damn good actor, and I heard liz taylor say the other day that like WAY more people in Hollywood than you would ever even think are gay, that for some reason they’re drawn to the arts or acting or whatever, yet another generality, but sometimes generalities are all we have, despite their horrific occasional overtones, and besides, if liz taylor said it, it must be true, I mean she’s the definition of stable.
Anyway, I highly doubt it made any sense whatever, but that’s what’s swimming through my mind at the moment. Hope I didn’t offend anyone, and if I did, please call my complaint line at 976-PHUK. Aloha.
Friday, September 12, 2003
Yes, they’re probably on your mind as well on this day.
Dan Cortez and Eric Nies.
You know, dan cortez, mr. MTV sports, Mr. Dogshit tv shows, mr. I’m on that show with kirstie alley? Or was it brooke shields? Or both? Arrgghh why are they giving him another half hour of various people’s lives to ruin? The humanity.
So I mentioned something in passing while I saw the ad for his new “comedy” to the effect of “jesus h. Christ when is this guy gonna fade off into oblivion like the rest of the talentless mtv scrub legion of doom…” (actually I think it was less wordy than that).
So mrs. P is like, where was he from? Wasn’t he on real world? And I’m like “no” he was never on real world, and she’s all “yeah, I know he was, on the first one, and he hosted that dance show” and I’m like “nooooooo, that was another guy” and she’s like “I’ll bet you” and I’m like “honey, I KNOW that they’re not the same guy, you’re thinking a different guy, you’re thinking the MTV the Grind guy, mr. I won’t sing during the real world/road rules battle-thon until I call my agent and verify I’ll be getting my royalties for it, this guy’s way more a joker than Dan Cortez, if that’s possible.”
Again what I actually said wasn’t that wordy but that was the basic jist of it. yet she still persisted that the MTV grind guy and dan cortez were one and the same, these two totally disparate paragons of pop culture. Pshaw!
So I had to go on the internet and verify it by finding a picture of an mtv the grind video and unearthing that name I could not remember which was eric nies.
So I won. This time. Cuz my mtv trivia, at least when it comes to real world characters and other peripheral fooligans on that channel, especially if we’re discussing the late 80’s early 90’s time frame, is matched by few, if any. (well I’m sure there are some that could give me quite a challenge and possibly best me but I like to think that they’re few and far between.)
So yeah, so all we watched was MTV, was there any other interesting celebrity news going on today that I might have missed?
Jesus Christ I just remembered that Dan Cortez was on Seinfeld. Remember, he was the cool guy that george wanted to hang out with, so they went mountain climbing or something like that? Dan cortez kept getting seriously hurt, like burned his face at the end?
Well shit, with that information firmly in hand I officially reinstate his ghetto pass. Revokal denied. Peace. I guess now I should tell you his name is actually spelled dan Cortese. Gracias. Harumpph, eric nies, i've met dan cortese (actually i haven't, but i'm making a clever reference to a dan quayle/old guy speech) and let me tell you, you're no dan cortese. and eric, seriously, you DON'T need to call your agent to check if you should sing, it's cool.
Shit, and wasn't Mr. Cortese on celebrity jeopardy too? and with Jason Alexander reprising their classic team up, no less? oh internet, you never let me down with the key info. Now that this knowledge has been dropped on myself, let the dan cortese shrine begin. Hello, ace builders, I’m gonna need 42 2x4’s and like an industrial strength glue gun, plus you got any baby elephant tusks? PETA? Who the fuck are they?
Seriously doe, RIP those two other guys.
Ya know, Eddie and Joe Bob from my cousin’s cleaners. They passed this morning, thankfully oblivious and with minimal pain I hope. They got a bad whiff of some super deadly and more volatile with age roach spray that had been left over from like the carter administration in their boss's van, ya know deep behind the wheel well, I guess they were trying to pry off the casing for the emergency axe that there’s never an emergency for. Hmmm, ironic.
Thursday, September 11, 2003
Why is it that every song on bona drag seems an appropriate one to post the lyrics for right now? I was seriously considering putting up “last of the famous international playboys” with like a picture of Osama bin Laden at the top, and don’t ask me why but sinead’s torn up pope line “know the real enemy” came to mind. Why does that line keep going through my head? Anyway, the Osama playboy reference seemed much more than mildly insensitive and, shit, I don’t want to make myself the real enemy, so I shelved the idea. For the moment. I don’t think Osama has been canonized in the states, obviously, but I saw in Time magazine some guy in Pakistan or wherever selling t-shirts with his picture and supposedly there are pro-bin laden posters up here & there in London, and, I don’t know, I thought it might have said something deep about the depraved nature of humanity to make murderers into heroes. I mean shit we wanna make the terminator governor of California right? Of course Arnold isn’t a real murderer, yadda yadda yadda, I don’t care if his dad’s a nazi, sins of the father should not come down the chain, etcetera, I’m foaming at the mouth a verbal diorama. Stop me. Thanks.
Every day is like Sunday. Every day is silent and gray. Hmmm, that seems appropriate as well. Did I just see that somewhere in blogville yesterday?? Maybe. If I could think of where I’d link them. But, actually, today isn’t about plugging compatriots in the struggle, it’s about serious reflection.
Ah whatever I’m over reflecting. Or maybe not. I’ve been noticing that the subject (you know, THE subject) is a lot less sensitive this year than it was last, and I’m all for it. I mean time heals all wounds, yeah.
Shit what the hell do I know, I’m out here in the pacific. Wonder what it’s like to be in NYC right now? My sister’s out there, wonder how she’s doing. She’s an LA transplant though, and wasn’t there for 9/11. well I mean, THE 9/11. wonder how that affects the experience, everyone around you like recollecting what they were doing, and she’s like, “well I woke up in seal beach and saw it on the news,” hmmm, this is going nowhere.
And I said I wasn’t gonna go into it. or did I?
I’m feeling guilty today cuz it was my dad’s birthday yesterday and I forgot to call him. I am a total pile. Yes, of donkey shit. sorry dad. Promise I’ll call you later today. I have no excuse except I came home and watched the dodger game and then less than zero on vh1 and then went to the gym and then came home and did some dishes and around 9:30 or so I was like “oh shit” and by then it’s 12:30 at night in la-la land and papa pennyworth don’t stay up that late be it Tuesday Thursday Wednesday or Friday. Or Saturday. Even on the Sabbath he’s in bed by 9:30, and I ain’t talking Hawaii time.
Is this appropriate subject matter? Oh well.
So yeah, I remember on the day before THE 9/11, I did remember to call my dad. Wished him a happy birthday, all the best, aloha, and then the next morning we woke up to visions of the towers collapsing. And dad called. And it was comforting. Thanks dad, that meant a lot, to know you were ok, that mom was ok, that the girls were ok. I mean, why wouldn’t they be, but it was still nice to know. And we were ok, me & Mrs. P, but we were freaking out, like everyone was, and…
The dodgers choked like chickens yesterday, coughing up a 4 run lead late in the game. Ishii pitched his heart out and then the relievers gave away the farm.
But that’s just a game, and this is life, and life is good.
Wednesday, September 10, 2003
Ok that “sha sha sha sha bing bing” is kicking in, still no major shift in consciousness.
“la la la la” Ok well I’m picturing like these guys running, and like splashing in a puddle, and like really strained looks on their faces like they gotta take a dump, but, yeah, that’s about it.
I’ll keep you posted. Sounds nice though. Really doe.
Oh yeah so I had some further theories on this whole file-sharing lawsuit dillio. (See the two posts below the post below – greedy greg) I don’t remember who greedy greg was but it sounds like a good name for a fictitional (fictitious? Yeah that’s the ticket) editor.
Oh yeah the RIAA lawsuit dogshit etcetera thang. OK, I figger one of two things, one theory being the one they WANT us to believe, and one theory being the one that is actually TRUE. But don’t say that I told you so even though I did.
Ok here we go let’s see if I can even remember them now.
Ok the theory they WANT us to believe goes as so: This little twelve year old girl and her mom (mainly her mom, I’m assuming) went into a meeting with like these corporate bigwig types from like the recording artists of America society or whatever. These really slimy greasy suits with names like guido and charley show them all these figures and numbers and like law documentations and stuff and from what they’re looking at, it’s just so obvious that they’re nailed to the wall. They’ve got them cold. If this case were allowed to go to court, I mean, the amount of money this little girl would owe would be astronomical, like, and then these suits are like, look, we’ll offer you a deal. 2 grand, and all is forgiven, I mean, compared to the millions that you really owe us for this grand theft of our merchandise we’re giving you the deal of a lifetime. The mother & the little girl thank their lucky stars and sign on the dotted line and wire the money from their swiss bank account. The little girl is beaten senseless with a wire hanger that evening and everyone leaves the situation relatively satisfied.
Ok so if this scenario is the public perception, then the file-sharing population, the people downloading all this free stuff, suddenly they’re scared. They’re shitting their pants. They’re thinking “damn if this little girl, which at first seemed like a public relations nightmare, was willing to fork over this kind of cash to the RIAA, then they must have their ducks lined up real nice ready to just take it to every tom, dick, harry, & alice that ever even thought of downloading home on the range." Basically, they’re thinking, shit, I’m gonna stop this and hope I don’t get nailed too.
BUT, I don’t think that’s what happened. That’s what the RIAA wants you to think. THIS is what I think happened. I think that the little girl & mommy went into this meeting with these guys, and the recording industry execs were like “look, you scratch my back I’ll scratch yours. We need to generate the public perception out there that this is serious business. If we can get you, the lightning rod in the media for this story, to agree publicly that you were in the wrong, we will look golden. Here you go, sign this, you’ll pay us 2 grand, but we will wire to your secret swiss bank account $20,000, oh and sign this non-disclosure agreement and here, we’re gonna need you to make a couple public announcements about how wrong you were to steal from Sisqo and everyone walks away happy.” The little girl & her mom look at each other, each one counting in their heads how many my little ponies and prada backpacks they can buy with that kind of cash, sign the deal with the devil, and suddenly the RIAA looks like they mean serious business.
And instead of a beating the 12 year old girl gets taken to Farrells for the all you can eat stuff your face ice cream surprise.
Ok now, does that make any sense whatever to anyone besides me? I sincerely hope so. Please feel free to email or comment if I have generated some form of confusion and I’ll do what I can to clear up the matter.
Oh and speaking of MP3’s, I haven’t listened to any of these guys' songs yet, but they are by far the coolest LOOKING band ever, if in fact that’s them. (pictured)
I can feel it. it’s gonna happen this year. Disregard the fact that we have no hitting and that I know next to nothing about baseball. As sure as I know that Tommy Lasorda eats spaghetti, sneaking in the night at 2 AM, when the rest of the house is asleep, dumping a can of slim fast down the drain and heading straight for the marinara sauce, I know that the dodgers are gonna make some noise in the playoffs this year.
I don’t care how long it’s been since the cubs last won. Hey, I’ll root for them to win the NL central, yeah go for it guys, but know this, the dodgers are out for blood, and Eric Gagne will close out any game, just give him the damn ball.
Speaking of Keyshawn Johnson, damn if he didn’t make some pretty impressive catches in the Monday night game. Tampa Bay looks downright scary, and this coming from the man that hates that damn chucky doll traitor jon gruden while also not being able to totally despise him.
Whatever. So what else is going on contingent o’ mine?
Wait don’t answer that. Or actually, do, but think of your own questions, something more creative than mine, and provide a thoughtful response. Or don’t. either way it’s cool, really.
The ataris are actually pretty good. Yes I’ve said that before. And I’m still diggin that 50-cent snoop remix of pee eye em pee, don’t axe me why. Something about, hmm, the benjamins? Nah. Whatevs. I ain’t kurt loder and I don’t play him on the teleprompter.
Jeezo-peezo, the well may be running dry. Oh, my bad, there’s the reserves.
Hmm the source is diminishing however. Better save some of that for another day.
And with that I bid you adieu for now and aloha from the island of Oahu. Don’t forget to write.
Oh and another thing -
Happy Birthday Dad! Thanks for taking me to all those Dodger games. One of these days I’ll be out there during baseball season & we’ll catch another one. Dang those were the days, going to the ballpark with the cub scouts, bringing a mitt, hoping a foul ball would come our way. Good times. Hope you’re having a great day!
Tuesday, September 09, 2003
Is the Recording industry run by some kind of telepathic uni-mind out of the back gutter of Isaac asimov’s sphincter? Ok not the best metaphor but check this out.
That little 12 year old girl & her mom that are being sued (see post below) have already settled out of court and coughed up $2,000 to the RIAA. but that’s not the weirdest part. Peep these comments:
"We understand now that file-sharing the music was illegal," Torres said in a statement distributed by the recording industry. "You can be sure Brianna won't be doing it anymore."
Brianna added: "I am sorry for what I have done. I love music and don't want to hurt the artists I love."
Yeah, and oh, I forgot to mention, um Cisco’s the “thong song” is the most relevant piece of literature since Moby fucking Dick.
I mean whut the FUCK? is it me or do these people sound like they just came out of a charley manson indoctrination meeting? “Charlie just wants us all to love each other. Grape juice is the real enemy, I don’t want to hurt the Kool-Aid-Man…”
I don’t know maybe I’m retarded but it seems weird to me, I smell a backroom deal behind the backroom deal.
this should make the recording industry even more popular than they already are. Jesus Christ, ok, let’s sue a 12 year old girl for downloading the theme to “8 is enough” and like nursery rhyme hour with barney’s bastard step-uncle.
Well the 4th edition of the pennyworth home computer seems to be the champ. We exchanged the speakers as well as the tower this time and although I doubt the switch in speakers had any impact I ain’t arguing with the results. Right from the start the sound was crisp clean no caffeine. All good in the hood, and like hours later, the next morning, the sound still coming through like aces high. Now THAT’s what a fucking computer should sound like, contingent.
So I was like thinking should I start downloading shit like crazy off of Kazaa? I’m paranoid as hell what with this lawsuit shit going down. I don’t think I have ever downloaded a song, like ever, but I know a shitload of people that do it on the regulah and not just music, I mean movies that are still in the theatre, tv shows, the whole nine yards, now how can they just arbitrarily pick people at random to direct these lawsuits at? I just don’t get it.
I’ve heard theories that this is all posturing and it will end up out of court with some kind of agreement between the recording industry and Kazaa and similar internet services. I mean, they’ve gotta work together it would seem, because if harnessed in a certain way and under control, that shit could be a major boon to the music industry, allowing people to sample stuff, but stemming the tide so people still have to buy the albums. I guess, shit I don’t know, I ain’t casey kasem, and I don’t play him on tv neither.
Hosemonster’s been writing some fascinating ass-crapsterpieces lately. His perma-links are all fukked though, so just go over there and check it out. Today he’s discussing the hypocrisy of health plans providing viagra but not birth control pills for women. Absolutely ridiculous. And he touches base on the religious aspect of it with, ya know, I ain’t heard a peep from the catholic church referencing viagra. I guess it’s ok for old farts to jizz all over the place as long as no sperm is wasted. I wanna start busting out that tune from monty python meaning of life, “every sperm is sacred” you know with the catholic family with like 300 kids, and one plops out of the broad while she’s doing dishes, and then like down the street is the protestant family with two kids discussing how he can put a little rubber thing on his talliwacker.
Oh and hoseman discusses kyle boller, the former Cal quarterback, now starting for the Baltimore Ravens, and how they went to high school together, and well it’s cal football, so it’s mandatory reading, because the you know what Mercado said so, that’s why.
teen titans pic courtesy of tony z. hopefully he won't surprise me with any beefcake chippendales shots this time around. peep his site for all kinds of teen titans and wonder woman stuff and the ever-infamous much much more. in fact it's long past due he was linked on the left hand side-bar dillio.
So um, what else is in the oven with Dinah? someone in the kitchen I know oh oh oh someone’s in the kitchen with Dinah, beating on that old banjo….
I always wanted to learn to play the banjo. Like so I could play it while I’m on a river in backwoods Louisiana or some shit like that, hoping I don’t see Burt Reynold’s and the squeal like a pig contingent, you know, so I could go hunting for some food and maybe like shoot in the ground and some oil squirt up & I can move the whole fam to a mansion in Beverly.
Hills, that is.
Monday, September 08, 2003
this then read this and all will be explained.
Which reminds me, I ‘ve been washing a mighty lot of that poker tournament on espn. It is just absolutely riveting in my humble opinion. I mean watching guys named okefenoke going up against shaman joe Jackson and like this guy from Iceland is just about as high quality televsion as you can get in this day & age my brutha. From anotha motha. Like no otha in this struggle against the, well, the man.
THE man mein freunds. You know, the one keeping us down. You and me. And chrisotpher reeve make three. Fukn superman fell of his horse, i bet in the middle of a jump over this like ivy looking dillio trying to see over the hill at the yankee game like with his super vision across the country strait got BucKed off his horse like a papa-chasa. You know the kine, super blue eyed dude with like the heat vision tip cuing on like fukn the bat of Jason Giambi in the bottom of the ninth like wackin it over some boston dude. and i wonder if he would have tried to like use his freeze breath against it and like totally shut that scene down.
And like the cubs, well, like, whatever I wouldn’t say eff the cubs but ya know whut eff the cubs, cuz they’re in the dodgers way and ya know whut, I just got a feeling, in fact, I’m gonna say it, dodgers beat giants in the playoffs this year. You heard it here first. 7 games, dodgers win it at San Fran effen joker malone stadium, and bastitch will be in the 18th row strait crying like a little girl that done lost her auntie’s umbrella case that she passed on down from like 83 generations.
Seriously doe. That I mean more than the squared average mean of like an unladen swallow NOT carrying a coconut, as for the one that is laden with like 85 coconuts will be the contingent from like the 78th acre of cricket corner, off of Honolulu blvd. Local yokels in bifocals.
Yours truly, the chairman of the board
Sunday, September 07, 2003
Not in my fad days, my color me badd days, (ps: they didn’t exist, it just rhymed) I was your ally, your sweater vest pal guy.
So did I mention that Brandon always wins? Oh and besides that that we went camping this weekend. It was super-dee-duperdy crip-sola. Where you may ask? Why at Kualoa beach park, mein freund(s), I mean, shit dawg(s), we had the phattest view of chinaman’s hat, which besides being a very scenic island in the shape of a customary Chinese peasant’s hat, enables haoles everywhere their one & possibly only chance to say chinaman without fear or repurcussion, or actually make that fear OF repurcussion of being labelled some kind of racist bigot bastard sword bricklayer. Or sumpin like that.
I won’t say I’m not a racist because that is code for “I’m actually a total fucking racist,” a totally unsubstantiated theory of which I’ve gone into before in detail, and I didn’t really mean for this to get all racial, but doesn’t everything at some point or another? Well, actually, alfredo sauce, no it doesn’t, and saying you’re not a racist doesn’t actually totally necessarily mean you’re actually a racist, it’s just one of those “I think thou protest too much” type dillios.
So we’ll just leave it at that on this fine Sunday evening.
Now where was I, contingent?
Ah yes, camping. Shit, our tent is just so tight. Not as in a tight fit, far from it, tight, as the youth of today or last week would say, as in properly befitting one of a noble class, not that I think I’m some kind of nobleman or some such dignitary, far from it, but anyway, it was the dang-diggety-dawg-squad, aka, super good.
But, dang, ya dig, that wind and rain would kick up like a sumbtich in the middle of the night, and these drunken fooligans would sometimes go stumbling by squawking the most outlandish metaphors, that, well, at the smallest moments, contingent, I must admit I was annoyed. But only very slightly, and then I would realize that all was well and that wacko and the most beautiful mrs. P were safe and sound in said tent with me and I would realize, yo, I am king of all I survey and all I survey is oh so veddy veddy viddy well aka good good with a side of fantastically good.
So you may be wondering why we brought wacko camping. Wait, what’s this? You’re wondering who wacko is in the first place? Oh, well, that is slightly troubling. Actually, it’s not, well, here, you should read this. You really really should read it. Because it explains in what, well, I would never toot my own horn so to say, but in a very effective fashion, the origins and significance of a goldfish named wacko. Both how he came to be a part of the pennyworth family and where he got that name that all those in the know, the up to the minute trend setters, in their crazy nightclubs, can’t keep off the tips of their tongues, well that and all those little pieces of paper and green plastic chips.
Um, so yea. Wait hold on, let me eat a pop-tart for a minute. Mmmm. Something about eating breakfast food at night. It has that perfect mixture of feeling naughty, tasting good, not filling you up too much, being associated with Seinfeld, and, um, spoonfull of sugar makes the medicine go down mindset, that, well, spins my wicker. Not literally.
So yeah, we figured we’d bring wacko camping with us, in his little bowl, cuz, I mean, we don’t wanna have to be coming back to the casa every morning & evening for his mandatory feedings, so he was kicking it on the beach with us, I almost had a moment of like free willy style, where I contemplated throwing him in the ocean but thank allah I didn’t do that as in I think I read somewhere that goldfish are not down with like that saltwater thang.
Well, so that’s my story. I think I’m done writing this as it’s Sunday night and it sounds good to go lay down and read me some Robert Jordan.
Oh and by the way Mrs. P has been getting lots of compliments on here new backpack. It’s a baby blue jansport.