A miss is as good as a mile unless it's a thermo-nuclear device

I think I am going to try humor again for awhile.

Yeah, humor and blues harmonica.
I told you that I bought a harmonica the other day, didn't I?
It's a Hohner Hot Metal something something something diatonic, or something like diatonic, and it's made for the blues, just like I'm made for the blues.
Also bought a used copy of some supposedly cosmic how to play the blues book from Amazon dot com, cause all us blues guys buy their stuff from Amazon, cause Amazon has the blues too, don't ya know.

So, yeah, I'm going to try to get back to my comedy roots, I want to be the Medowlark Lemon of comedy blogging, I want to be the prune danish of comedy blogging, I want to be the Arthur Fiedler of comedy blogging, I want to be one of those Star Wars Darth guys of comedy blogging, I want to be the Debbie Boone of ... say did you know that Debbie is making a comeback? I saw that on the Today show while I was sitting in the neuro-surgeons waiting room the other day, and do you find it annoying on my part that I try to work in the fact that I am seeing a neuro-surgeon in as many posts as possible?

So anyway, on the post before this, I was way out of line talking about the Beatles like that, I mean heck, without the Beatles we'd still be referring to Beatle Boots as Astronaut Boots, if we even referred to them at all.

Man, I miss my Beatle hair cut, and my sideburns, and my turtleneck sweaters, and my penny loafers, and my bleeding madras, and my paisley, and my cranberry socks which were actually burgundy but cranberry was the color of the year for 1966.

And I miss Double Cola in the big 16 ounce bottle, and Tackle, the refreshing skin medication, and Lucky Strikes, and Gilette Trac II, and 5 gallons of gas for a buck, and stuff, and more stuff, and even more stuff.

But yeah.