Ho Ho ... oh, my achin' head.
I hope everyone survived the holiday. About a half-hour ago I started to believe that I might, too. I'll tryta keep yuz posted.
In the meantime, maybe somebody can assist me on another front. It's Christmas related, but a little bit weird, if you ask me. So shut up for a minute and let me tryta get you up to speed.
It all started Wednesday night at this party I was attending. And lemme tell ya, this party was a freakin' monster. Seriously, there had to be around three hundred people there. There were folks dancin' to live music in one section of the place. Anda gawdam disco fulla dancing drunkards in another. Their was a fairly well-funded poker game that I stumbled upon, too. Plus, there was guys shootin' pool, throwin' darts, watchin' movies, you name it! Most of us, though, were happy to eat, drink and tryta catch dames under the mistletoe. I had a huge snifter of Courvoisier in my hand and an unlit stogie in my teeth. I was on the mingle. I mean, there was a lotta unfamiliar loot in that joint, ya savvy? I had introductions to make.
The clock was approaching midnight, as I recall, when I sauntered into this room fulla necktie wearin' strangers. After a coupla beats, I was certain that I didn't know a single person in the room. That, in itself was pretty gawdam strange, but it soon took a turn for the bizarre, my friends. I stood there smiling through my White Owl, listening to these freaks, when suddenly their talk turned to the "true" meaning of Christmas. Uh - excuse me, but I think I gotta decent handle on this crap already, okay? True meaning of Christmas, my ass!
As I listened to 'em, though, summa the stuff what they was sayin' sounded sorta familiar to me. Like it was a long ago memory, or somethin'. I swear, fellas, it was like, deja moo, see? Anyway, the crux of their particular biscuit turned out to be that Christmas wasn't supposed to be about the giving of presents. It was, according to them, a time to celebrate the birth of a "presence." I was confused from the beginning. I quickly refreshed my cognac and tried to gather more information from these weirdoes. It seems there was a newborn king on this date several years ago, that these clowns deemed worthy of remembering with the Christmas holiday. Hello? Ever hearda Saint Nicholas? Santa Claus? Father Christmas? We need some new guy on the landscape too, huh?
So, I tried to get the name of this little dude, so I could let everybody know what's on the horizon, but they were using two different names, so I'm not really sure, but his name must be Frankincense, or possibly, Murr.
In thinking about it, since then, I've figured out that Frankincense, unless I miss my guess, is a distant relative of a mad scientist in Eastern Europe that went by the name of Frankenstein, the creator of the monster of the same name. Interestingly, Doctor Frankincense was recently diagnosed as clinically insane, himself. Apparently, he had been following in his great uncle's footsteps by trying to regenerate life. Albeit, in a much more pleasant smelling laboratory. If you like the smella musk, I mean. So, for purposes of my solving my dilemma, I'm gunna assume that Frankie ain't the babe in a manger what them party people from the other night were so adamantly proclaiming as praise-worthy. I just can't make the pieces fit. Ya see what I'm sayin'?
Now, while I have no idea of how long ago this birth was to of taken place, I believe if we could make it about ninety years ago, I might have this sucker solved. Well, kinda. Anyway, there is a Murr, that I'm aware of, who I believe would be in his late eighties, early nineties, today. And while I still would not consider him praise-worthy, he is definitely a much nicer guy than that Doctor Frankincense. I believe his true name was Murray Slaughter, and he was a news writer in the Minneapolis - St. Paul area. You do remember Ted Knight, don't you? Murray wrote his lines, gave him life, so to speak. Hmmm. Well, Murr is still more adorable than that Incense character could ever be.
I don't know. I suppose I just wanted to warn everybody, that there seems to be some kinda Christmas revolution afloat. So long, Santa Claus. Hello, Murray Slaughter. Ho Ho Ho .
BUF +8 @ NE 44
It's tough to argue with anyone touting the Pats, these days. They seem to be able to win any kinda game, in any kinda situation. It's been a very impressive season, to say the least. In fact, they haven't had a single performance this year that could be considered... embarrassing. Oh! Except for Opening Day, I mean. They got spanked that day, 31-0 in, uh... The Buff. So, I guess it's time to avenge the season's only serious blemish, huh? Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Just make sure I get that bucket loada points, okay? BILLS +8
PHI -7 @ WAS 41?
After dropping their first two games, the Eagles played about as well as anyone. At one point winning nine straight ball games. Judging by the way the Niners ran all over these guys, though, I think that mid-season run by the Eagles has taken a serious toll. Besides, The Skins gave 'em all they wanted in Philly, anyway! You say you gotta home dog? Gimme that sunnuvabitch. REDSKINS +7 Power Pie!
Murray: If it weren't for me, people would turn on The Six O'Clock News, and see a grown man with a silly look on his face saying, "Good evening, I'm....."
Like, moo.
I hope everyone survived the holiday. About a half-hour ago I started to believe that I might, too. I'll tryta keep yuz posted.
In the meantime, maybe somebody can assist me on another front. It's Christmas related, but a little bit weird, if you ask me. So shut up for a minute and let me tryta get you up to speed.
It all started Wednesday night at this party I was attending. And lemme tell ya, this party was a freakin' monster. Seriously, there had to be around three hundred people there. There were folks dancin' to live music in one section of the place. Anda gawdam disco fulla dancing drunkards in another. Their was a fairly well-funded poker game that I stumbled upon, too. Plus, there was guys shootin' pool, throwin' darts, watchin' movies, you name it! Most of us, though, were happy to eat, drink and tryta catch dames under the mistletoe. I had a huge snifter of Courvoisier in my hand and an unlit stogie in my teeth. I was on the mingle. I mean, there was a lotta unfamiliar loot in that joint, ya savvy? I had introductions to make.
The clock was approaching midnight, as I recall, when I sauntered into this room fulla necktie wearin' strangers. After a coupla beats, I was certain that I didn't know a single person in the room. That, in itself was pretty gawdam strange, but it soon took a turn for the bizarre, my friends. I stood there smiling through my White Owl, listening to these freaks, when suddenly their talk turned to the "true" meaning of Christmas. Uh - excuse me, but I think I gotta decent handle on this crap already, okay? True meaning of Christmas, my ass!
As I listened to 'em, though, summa the stuff what they was sayin' sounded sorta familiar to me. Like it was a long ago memory, or somethin'. I swear, fellas, it was like, deja moo, see? Anyway, the crux of their particular biscuit turned out to be that Christmas wasn't supposed to be about the giving of presents. It was, according to them, a time to celebrate the birth of a "presence." I was confused from the beginning. I quickly refreshed my cognac and tried to gather more information from these weirdoes. It seems there was a newborn king on this date several years ago, that these clowns deemed worthy of remembering with the Christmas holiday. Hello? Ever hearda Saint Nicholas? Santa Claus? Father Christmas? We need some new guy on the landscape too, huh?
So, I tried to get the name of this little dude, so I could let everybody know what's on the horizon, but they were using two different names, so I'm not really sure, but his name must be Frankincense, or possibly, Murr.
In thinking about it, since then, I've figured out that Frankincense, unless I miss my guess, is a distant relative of a mad scientist in Eastern Europe that went by the name of Frankenstein, the creator of the monster of the same name. Interestingly, Doctor Frankincense was recently diagnosed as clinically insane, himself. Apparently, he had been following in his great uncle's footsteps by trying to regenerate life. Albeit, in a much more pleasant smelling laboratory. If you like the smella musk, I mean. So, for purposes of my solving my dilemma, I'm gunna assume that Frankie ain't the babe in a manger what them party people from the other night were so adamantly proclaiming as praise-worthy. I just can't make the pieces fit. Ya see what I'm sayin'?
Now, while I have no idea of how long ago this birth was to of taken place, I believe if we could make it about ninety years ago, I might have this sucker solved. Well, kinda. Anyway, there is a Murr, that I'm aware of, who I believe would be in his late eighties, early nineties, today. And while I still would not consider him praise-worthy, he is definitely a much nicer guy than that Doctor Frankincense. I believe his true name was Murray Slaughter, and he was a news writer in the Minneapolis - St. Paul area. You do remember Ted Knight, don't you? Murray wrote his lines, gave him life, so to speak. Hmmm. Well, Murr is still more adorable than that Incense character could ever be.
I don't know. I suppose I just wanted to warn everybody, that there seems to be some kinda Christmas revolution afloat. So long, Santa Claus. Hello, Murray Slaughter. Ho Ho Ho .
BUF +8 @ NE 44
It's tough to argue with anyone touting the Pats, these days. They seem to be able to win any kinda game, in any kinda situation. It's been a very impressive season, to say the least. In fact, they haven't had a single performance this year that could be considered... embarrassing. Oh! Except for Opening Day, I mean. They got spanked that day, 31-0 in, uh... The Buff. So, I guess it's time to avenge the season's only serious blemish, huh? Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Just make sure I get that bucket loada points, okay? BILLS +8
PHI -7 @ WAS 41?
After dropping their first two games, the Eagles played about as well as anyone. At one point winning nine straight ball games. Judging by the way the Niners ran all over these guys, though, I think that mid-season run by the Eagles has taken a serious toll. Besides, The Skins gave 'em all they wanted in Philly, anyway! You say you gotta home dog? Gimme that sunnuvabitch. REDSKINS +7 Power Pie!
Murray: If it weren't for me, people would turn on The Six O'Clock News, and see a grown man with a silly look on his face saying, "Good evening, I'm....."
Like, moo.
