Reader Mail

Chet the E-Mail Boy was up early this morning and just came wobbling in with the following from a known tuberphile:

Subject: Pouffy Hair

When you were getting ready this morning, preparing the Possum fur for the public

Yes, I did do a double take at that word, too, but thankfully the twelfth letter of the alphabet was indeed present...

and teasing up the front, did you start humming that Slim Whitman classic (something about a white horse)?

What an odd question! Why do you ask, dear reader?

Oddly enough, I found myself humming that pleasant ditty myself this morning and was wondering if others shared in that experience.

Ahh, I see. Well, it is a good question--although while performing my morning toilet I usually like to sing Bandera Waltz at the top of my lungs while strolling around the back yard. This usually does not cause distress for the neighbors, except for the mornings I forget my pants. When that happens, I usually launch into A Fool Such as I. After the police arrive, they normally request that I sing Birmingham Jail.

Actually, my normal morning is to wake up a bit before 5, fumble around and turn off the alarm, take my pillow and turn around to the foot of the bed, turn on CBS, alternately drool and doze and watch the last few minutes of Up To The Minute , then the CBS Morning News, both currently being anchored by Melissa McDermott. At 5:30, I change over to the local NBC station for their dippy morning show, where today I was overjoyed to see that Wendy Garner has returned after twelve long weeks of maternity leave. While she was gone they rotated a couple of different anchors in her place who had the sparkling personalities common to both river gravel and pencil shavings. (Yes, I'm glad she's back.)

Along about 5:40 or so, I fall over the side of the bed and creak into the bathroom, turn on the water, eat my pills that keep me from keeling over, brush my teeth while admiring my incredible physique, waddle to the shower, stub my toe on the little razor sharp deal at the bottom of the door, stumble headlong into the shower knob, lie unconscious on the floor of the shower until sufficiently wrinkled, then dry off, get my new-fangledy electrical razor and sit on the pot and shave, then brush my teeth again because I forgot I already did it, then put on my Spider Man Underoos and my business clothes and at precisely 0600 I put on my DI hat and grab my swagger stick and the metal garbage can and start getting the kids up and ready. "BOY! Is that a stuffed Pikachu in your bed!? Pikachu says it's time to hit the deck or else you will be tickled mercilessly!"
posted by Terry at 8:59:00 AM