Phrembah (a potato-like mystery) (phrembah) wrote,
Phrembah (a potato-like mystery)
phrembah

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I don't think so, Scooter...

Went and saw Ron White last night. Ron White is one of the four comics featured in the Blue Collar Comedy Tour movie, which I was never aware of as a movie, but it's been in the rental stores for a year or so. Jeff Foxworthy and Bill Engval were the head-liners and got a lot more time on the DVD than Ron White or Larry the Cable Guy, but Ron White's stuff knocked me on my butt laughing. One liner note on the DVD said, "They came to see Foxworthy, but they left talking about Ron White." Probably true. I know I watched the whole DVD once, but ran it back over the Ron White parts about four times before I took it back.

They are calling this the "Drunk In Public Tour", after one of his most famous bits, and I was a little afraid that it would be all stuff I'd seen on the Blue Collar Comedy Tour, but it was not. Some guy called Robert Hawkins, who's really pretty good in his own right, did 20-25 minutes then Ron White did and hour and fifteen minutes of all new material. Well, all new since Blue Collar Comedy Tour, which is all I have to go by. Then he did the "Drunk In Public" skit and the bit about sitting in a beanbag chair, naked, eating Cheetos because people were screaming for them.

It was fun.

. . .

In other news today...

T and WJ and I made two dump runs this morning. The front yard is now down to bare dirt. I'm not sure what I will do with it, but at least it doesn't look like a tumbleweed jungle any more. Maybe Astro-Turf and some plastic trees.

One idea I like is to have whoever did this sand sculpture of "Davy Jones' Locker" do one in a Southwestern motif, like the aftermath of a wagon train massacre with burned out wagons, skeletons bleaching in the sun and the ill-fated settlers' personal effects strewn about. Then shellac the whole thing o'er with polyurethane or something so it wouldn't wash away in the rain or (more likely) blow away in the wind. Where do you buy pink flamingos? Maybe they have some plastic vultures I could perch on the eves. The neighbors might end up wishing I'd kept the tumbleweeds.


I don't know who to credit this to. It was anonymous by the time it was e-mailed to me.

. . .

Gotta go see where the swamp cooler is dripping from this time...
Tags: compelling chronicle
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