Just a few little administrative things to take care of before we get down to business this morning. It may be a bit premature, but SECRET GIRLFRIEND IS BACK FROM GETTING MARRIED in the Bahamas. This announcement may be a trifle premature as she doesn't have a post up yet. On the other hand, rumor has it that no one killed anyone else in the wedding party during the entire two week event. I think this bodes well for the happy couple.
Now, if you happen to be wearing a pair of vibrating panties with the hidden battery pack and remote control as described by Mist1 in a recent post, you will probably want to disengage from the battery pack pretty soon or at least be well insulated. Alison found this amazing resource and you just have to try it. I don't want to bias you for your own test of this resource, but I am using several responses when I discuss expanding our sexual horizons. I also asked the computer if we might marry. We're dating now.
June Bug lives in Utah and writes things like this post. I find her writing extremely appealing. When she wrote that people typically didn't like her when they first meet her, I knew I really liked her a lot. I love the Internet. And, if anyone sees Phoenix Hearse, this lady June Bug in Utah, which I hear is just north of Arizona, has three (3) Great Danes.
Which brings me to the point of this post. My singing. Ever since I was in grade school, it was obvious to anyone who heard me that I couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. I can, and will sing with great enthusiasm, but nothing that resembles musicality. I am best in large choirs, like the one that gathers every year in Times Square in New York City on New Year's Eve to sing in unison. I will tend to blend well with them, particularly the Jack Daniel's section. I can't find my rendition of Auld Lang Syne on YouTube for your viewing pleasure from the Year 2000 when I was home with the wife singing along, because I had the flu. Now there was real entertainment! Plus, there is no better known cure for the flu than swilling Jack Daniels, or single malt scotch, while holding a cup of tea, which is where the medicinal value comes from. Naturally. But, I digress.
Now, normal people would get down in the mouth about this, and get depressed. I started seranading women. They would scream, "shut up!" and I'd say, "Only if you kiss me!" and I'd start singing again. Now, If you can keep your hands free to block and ward off slaps and punches as your voice rises to hit that ever elusive high L note, you have it made.
This technique can also work wonders on the wife. "Gee Honey, I'd like a new car", she surprised me with the other day. "You have a brand new company car from the place where you work" I pointed out, and then I launched into one of the solos from the Marriage of Figaro. She surrendered before the third Figaro. I hadn't even warmed up yet.
But the ultimate was when my old neighbor lived across the street from me. He had this beautifull chocolate Lab. There were times my neighbor couldn't get home in time to take the dog out for his constitutional. He;d call me, and I'd go over and get Duke, and we'd go out for a walk. As soon as we'd clear 'our' block, we'd sing together. Good old Duke appreciate Beethoven, and I'd sing "Ode to Joy" to him in German. He'd howl at the moon, or the sun, or the stars, any heavenly body would do. Pretty soon, every dog on the block was howling. The neighbors would come out with $20 bills to ask me not to sing. I'd wave, and we'd go down the block and go on to the next stanza, and repeat the process, until Duke was very satisfied, and I was pretty sure he wouldn't make a mess. We'd trot home, amid the cheers and applause. Duke passed away, and the neighbors have moved away. But, I still love music, and dogs and cats, naturally.