Ah, the good old days, when women with real, American names like "Sue Thompson" sang healthy, happy songs like this:
<blockquote>Jimmy called me on the phone but I was gone, not at home, Cuz I was <b> out parked all alone</b> with darlin&#039; Norman. Bill invited me to a show but I said, &quot;No, cannot go; There&#039;s a dress that I&#039;ve got to sew and wear for Norman.&quot; </blockquote> I think we can infer that sammich preparation occurred in there somewhere, too.
Norman, is that you??
I don&#039;t like to objectify women.
Or is it subjectify?
My grammar fails me...
The Mont?
So close, and yet so very far...
Oh, for lack of an ana.
Great collage! God, I wish I could be there.
Is this when we find out Barry Switzer&#039;s secret Wonkette identity?
Ah, the good old days, when women with real, American names like &quot;Sue Thompson&quot; sang healthy, happy songs like this:
<blockquote>Jimmy called me on the phone but I was gone, not at home, Cuz I was <b> out parked all alone</b> with darlin&#039; Norman. Bill invited me to a show but I said, &quot;No, cannot go; There&#039;s a dress that I&#039;ve got to sew and wear for Norman.&quot; </blockquote> I think we can infer that sammich preparation occurred in there somewhere, too.
Just don&#039;t let it end like &quot;The Sopanos.&quot; I&#039;ve still got dramaturgical blue balls from that one.
Horrible, horrible place.
TO THE BUNKMOBILE!