I don’t understand.
The flies aren’t getting caught in the fly paper. They’re falling dead on the shelf under the fly paper. I’d go to Menard’s and demand my money back, but that seems so unpatriotic.
I missed last night’s Letterman, and I heard it was really great…Dan Rather, very emotional, etc… The show was on tonight, and I kept asking Tom if they were rerunning the one from last night. He made fun of me.
“It’s the Last Night Show, Dane. The Last Night Show. Ha!”
So I says… “Shut up, Tom! NEAAA! GRRAA! I’LL LAST NIGHT YOU!” “ARG!”
Needless to say two RA’s stopped by to see what the hell was going on. I explained that Tom was making fun of me so I was busy being mad. They were pleased, as they expected to find someone freaking out in the depths of an ether binge. The two of ’em kept craning their necks around, trying to find the alcohol that I must be drunk on. I offered one of them an E.L. Fudge. They left.
I started eating Wheat Thins, and Tom said I should go over to the RA’s place and ask if I could watch the Last Night Late Show. And that I should offer them Wheat Thins.
So I sez, “If Wheat Thins were beer, I’d be drunk.”