I used to love the old 70's television show, All In The Family. Brilliant show we could never ever have today. It showcased alternate points of view that ranged from conservative to liberal, bigotry and socialism-esque positions were bandied about brilliantly so that the audience could engage in THOUGHT, while enjoying a family sitcom that was alternately warm, silly, and brilliant.
Anyway, a main character, Archie Bunker was prone to using the wrong word as he made a point. GREAT comic relief. For example:
A witness shall not bear falsies against thy neighbor."
"groinacoligist" instead of "gynecoligist"
(Archie Bunker in All in the Family)
Even Dan Quayle gave us jewels like: Republicans understand the importance of bondage between a mother and child.
I am guilty of something far more sinister and here's an example: I'm reading Morri's journal and laughing and my eye floats over to my navigation bar where "dashboard" is listed up top. Except, I don't read "dashboard," do I? No, because of my condition, Birrapropism, I read, "dachshund." Once this happens, it is nearly impossible to see the word that is actually there. Thanks, birra. The contagion grows.
Dammit! You might as well have relabelled my whole side bar now. You KNOW how my mind works:(
Now I have a plucky weenie dog who is racing to the post office with love letters. Little does he know, but a five evil cats are stalking him in the hope of distracting him in his duties by sending him instead to a doctor for a Charlie-ectomy.
Shortly later, we see the evil cats in profile line up shots, having been thwarted in their plans to remove the brave dachshunds kidneys. Looking through the many backups, it seems they have records of having done this kind of thing before.
Now the brave weenie dog, having delivered his love notes, is writing his memoirs in a journal.
This is all your fault:P
Hey, I didn't cause the disease, I'm just a carrier...
...the therapy is working wonders though...
Why, just this evening "drewlester" looked like "drewslitter"...
Ok, I'll up the dosage...
I want to set fire to my desk.
I want Calgon to take me away.
I would even welcome that KoolAid guy slamming through the wall with a refreshing beverage.
I want my mommy.
I want to go forward in time when all this work is done and I'm having a glass of wine and wearing a satisfied expression.
I want a secretary.
I want to staple the phone to the wheel of a mack truck.
Screw the KoolAid guy, I want birra and Morri to bust through my wall with Rum. Thoth can come, too, but he has to wear Groucho glasses and flick an imaginary cigar while snapping out one-liners.
So... What are you saying?
oh, this cigar isn't imaginary.
Editorial note: All future comments to this post should begin with, "Poor baby." I want PITY!
Awww. poor BABY.
I can't do it, Joli... it just comes out sounding all sarcastic.
Then I'll just have to keep this leaf blower pointed at your lips!
Aw poor darling.. Saying poor baby makes it seem like I am talking to one of the kids..
I have matches... and a hatchet... We could make kindling.. I hear desk wood burns nicely.
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