I have an iPod with more than 700 songs on it (using a mere 20 percent of its capacity), a record collection with thousands more and probably half a dozen radios lying around the house. And yet, the song I can’t get out of my head today is on none of them, only the hard drive in my head: Dean Martin’s “You Can’t Love ’em All.”
The song starts with a long intro, with Dino and three different girls:
See ya then!”
The gist: So many ladies, so little time.
I never actually owned this record. My friend Paul did, and it was one of those that made me wonder why people waste their time on Weird Al Yankovic and Dr. Demento. Found humor is always more amusing.
Summer departed for a few days, then returned with the proverbial vengeance — back to the high 80s. I celebrated with a 90-minute jaunt up the Rivergreenway to Memorial Stadium and back. It was Amateur Sunday, with the usual crowds of meanderers, helmet-less goofs and others who just…got in my way as I made my Lance-like way along the stinking sewers of the St. Marys and St. Joseph rivers. How dare they slow the progress of the shrieking white-hot flash that is the Nance When Her iPod is Pumping Just the Right Tune? What is it about exercise that makes people aggressive? Is it the adrenaline, or is maybe a little testosterone mixed in there, too? Never in my life have I gotten runner’s high, but often I’ve thought that if anyone ever tried to mess with me while I was flying along, I would rip his heart out, show it to him, and then eat it raw.
There’s a cheery thought with breakfast, eh?
Dong Resin was gone so long I took him off my bookmarks. Now he’s back with the usual genius: I would vote for Sharpton, however. In a heartbeat. We’d be the cool country again in about a week. Non-white countries would take us serious again, the others would at long last shut the f*** up. What would France have to say to us under the Sharpton regime? Nothing, that’s what. That should have been Al’s campaign button : “Let’s Scare The Tits Off Of Everyone Else.”
In the more responsible part of the commentary corral, read Slate on M. Night Shamalamading-dong, and impress all your friends.