I don’t think we had near enough coverage of the Anna Nicole Smith case, especially the who’s-your-daddy part of it. We got similarly shorted on that Aruba deal earlier.
I’m glad to see so many more men wearing these attractive hair-pieces that blend in so well with what’s left of their different-colored hair.
Those face-lifts that make you look like a snare drum that can’t blink are real attractive too.
I’m thinking we just don’t have enough brands of erectile-dysfunction remedies on the market. A half-dozen more ought to get the job done.
I’m thinking, too, that we need more of these big hateful yellow roaming-free cur dogs chasing old people who are out walking.
And that we don’t have enough movies or TV with major vomiting scenes, or, for a kind of counterpoint, major diarrhea scenes.
We need more history books portraying Uncle Orv as an innocent bystander at Central High, made into a scapegoat by scheming Gazette editors. Can’t get too many of those.
I don’t think, as many seem to, that the bartenders at the race track should put more than the pre-measured four drops of liquor in the plastic-cup cocktails that they sell for $5 apiece. Give these guzzlers five or six drops and pretty soon they’ll be demanding a quantity sufficient to visibly cover the bottom of the cup.
The right to torture kitties and puppies is plain as day for all to see there in the Second Amendment, and the legislature, rather than proposing to outlaw animal cruelty, should’ve used some of that state surplus to reward particularly vicious parochial instances of it.
They could make TV commercials a few decibels louder if they just would.
We need more car companies pushing the musical idea that it’s an act of patriotism if you buy one of their cars, with the unspoken corollary that maybe it’s an act of treason if you don’t.
I could use a lot more severe-weather interruptions of my favorite prime-time TV dramas, notably when the storm threat is far off in the boonies somewhere and moving away.
I wouldn’t mind another gross or two per day of junk e-mails with attachments, either. Special thanks for all of those from Nigeria.
The doctor’s office waiting rooms I frequent don’t have enough fellow patients hacking and coughing and wheezing all over me and sending febrile young’uns over to wipe their runny noses on my pantsleg.
The restaurants I frequent don’t have enough customers talking on their cell phones to friends and relatives who are obviously deaf.
I wish more of these youngsters speeding by on their way to school in the morning would use my front yard as a place to throw their McDonald’s and Hardee’s sacks, drink cups, fry containers, burger wrappers, pie envelopes, napkins, and condiment packets, and their beer cans, wine cooler empties, etc. I need the exercise picking all this crap up.
I wish the people on talk TV — hosts and guests, interviewers and interviewees — would do more of all trying to talk at the same time.
We shouldn’t limit the amount of usury these payday lenders can charge the suckers dumb enough or desperate enough to patronize them. Everybody should have as much gouge freedom as the oil companies do in pricing gasoline.
I think it’s a good thing that men make the abortion decisions since, having done their part already, they can be more objective. Their lives won’t be affected much one way or the other so they can be more dispassionate, less prejudiced, taking the broader view. Giving them authority in the matter also ameliorates those gnawing feelings of post-coital irrelevance.
I agree with Newt Gingrich that English should not only be our official language, it should be the only language allowed public utterance in the United States. Well, except for the one that President Bush uses. If Arabs or Chinese have something to say to us, they can learn English or Bushlish. Among other advantages, this would let them know without a doubt who’s boss. The way it’s going now, in 20 years’ time, half our population will be talking Foreign.
More of these hyperactive juveniles should be encouraged to take up the four-wheeling that has made an ugly mess of just about all of our once-scenic roadsides and woodland trails. The newcomers to the “sport” could go to work on lawns, parks, and courthouse squares.
We should cut down every single oak, hickory, and maple in America and plant a Bradford pear tree in its place — and it looks like we’re about halfway there already.
When you ring up tech support, they don’t keep you on hold near long enough. If they’d keep you hanging for just twice as long — another three or four hours — think of how much enjoyment you’d get out of hearing the instrumental version of the same Golden Oldie another nine thousand times.
And we certainly need more of our preteens and adolescents wearing these suggestive, vulgar, smartass, and downright obscene message shirts out in public.