"It's Friday! Let's Dance!" And let's do it to the Blamboo Bloogie for my pal:
Now... what's shaking your tiki today?
Billy Sweetfeets Gingersnap Norton is bopping to Monkey Farts.
DaGoddess wants to know if you've Ever Fallen In Love?
Mr. Debonair is dancing with Hizzownself to the Friday Random 10 on his little white chune box.
My Bar Stool BlogSon needs to Go-Go on Vacation.
Remember The Choo-Choo? Seems Vince Vaughn was shooting there a couple of nights ago... just a wee three blocks from the Depot de Omnibus. I'd get all excited about that, but he always looks like he could use a shower, a shave and a good night's sleep... and that's never been my cup of tea.
Received from my dear buddy Mr. Bill, this made me howl because I actually own and rely on a talking alarm clock... but not like this one:
After closing time at the bar, a drunk was proudly showing off his new apartment to a couple of his friends.
He led the way to his bedroom where there was a big brass gong and a mallet.
“What's up with the big brass gong?” one of his guests asked.
“It's not a gong - it's a talking clock,” the drunk replied.
“A talking clock? Seriously?” asked his astonished friend.
“Yup,” replied the drunk.
“How's it work?” the friend asked, squinting at it.
“Watch,” the drunk replied.
He picked up the mallet, gave the gong an ear-shattering pound and stepped back.
The three stood looking at one another for a moment.
Suddenly someone on the other side of the wall screamed, "You asshole! It's three-fifteen in the morning!”
Giggle of the Day: It's a lock.