Columns » Bob Lancaster

In which Honey's prostate falls out

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Our topic today is how it's hard to think about the one without either immediately or even simultaneously thinking of the other.

It's hard to think of G. Gordon Liddy , for example, without thinking of the rat.

It's hard to think of William Tell and his overture without thinking about the Lone Ranger.

It's hard to think of Rev. Steinmetz without thinking of the Moody Grass story.

It's hard to think of Honey in the semi-lucid period without thinking about her later phase as a noted diagnostician: among others, she diagnosed her cat as suffering from migraine headaches, and herself with her prostate having fallen out.

It's hard to think about Bro. Billy's vacuousness without thinking about Bro. Franklin's numbness of skull.

It's hard to think of young Gary Weir without thinking about him either walking to school or carrying his lunch.

It's hard to think of Fingal's Cave without thinking of the mysterious  cartoon crow.

It's hard to think of Gladys Knight without thinking of her Pips.

It's hard to think of Ruby Jones of Pine Bluff without thinking about pie, or Ruby Brown of Pine Bluff without thinking about Twarla Louise.

It's hard to start out with Ezekiel without coming all the way up to Mothman.

It's hard to think of Seymour Butts in any of his incarnations in the bleachers, above the bleachers, or at any site at which there are no bleachers.

It's hard to think about Guy Caballero without thinking of him prestidigitating into Count Floyd.

It's hard to think of dour old J. Edgar without thinking about him transmogrifying into Mary, eyebatting belle of the ball.  

It's hard to think of Dinah Shore doing all the standard numbers without thinking of her one catastrophic go at "I Can't Get No Satisfaction."

It's hard to think of Pussy Riot without thinking about Lysistrata.

It's hard to think of Sen. McClellan without thinking about the cookie jars.

It's hard to think of Dame Edna without the glads.

It's hard to think of Ollie without thinking of Stan and without thinking of both of them as professional piano movers.

It's hard to think about any of the Nixon particulars without being inundated by the whole preposterous schmear.

It's hard to think about Dizzy Dean's characteristic woofings without thinking of his on-air observation about a couple smooching yonder in the box seats: "Look at that, PeeWee. He kisses her on the strikes and she kisses him on the balls."

It's hard to think of Simon without also thinking of Golf Club.

It's hard to think of George Wallace without thinking of him and Lurleen starting their married life together as tenants of a chicken coop.

It's hard to think of slime weasels without thinking about the likeness of their little bitty individual weasel-size physiognomies to the faces of recognizable contemporary U.S. congressmen.

It's hard to think of mares eating oats without thinking about does eating them too. And little lambs eating ivy.

It's hard to think of George W. Bush without thinking of him waving to Stevie Wonder.

It's hard to think of Jimmy Durante without thinking of Mrs. Calabash, wherever she is.

It's hard to think about pottage without thinking biblically about how much of it you need to make a mess.

It's hard to think of the old train trips to Memphis without thinking of the conductor singing out the upcoming station stops: "Wabbaseka! Wabbaseka!... Wheatley! Wheatley."

It's hard to think whether life's too short for ordinary jewelry without thinking whether it's just too damn short period.

It's hard to think of Mark Darr without thinking of the not-so-swift old lady who lived out south of town here who was known all over Slabtown as The Empty Wagon.

It's hard to think of Ike Snopes without thinking about the shine he took to the cow.

It's hard to think of Larry without thinking of his brother Darryl and trying to remember what the other brother's name was.

It's hard to think of Howard Hughes without thinking of the Kleenex boxes.

It's hard to think about Ricardo Montalban without thinking about Rich Corinthian Leather. Or Short Stuff without thinking of zee plane zee plane.

It's hard to think of Bogart as a verb without thinking of the start of a beautiful friendship.

It's hard to think about Dick Morris without thinking how lost he'd surely feel if some killjoy Dr. Scholl developed a formula for suckproofing toes.

It's hard to think about Supreme Court dignity with Long Dong Thomas in the shot.

It's hard to think of Sarah Palin without thinking of Tina Fey, although, in the thinking about it, Tina comes a little closer to seeming like the real thing.

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