An English In Kentucky


















November 25th 2010    Tim Candler

    Twenty minutes a pound stuffed is a sad fate for creatures that once could fly. 

    But they get their revenge, as around a table family members are forced to reappraise each other.  Probably why I like to sit in an arm chair where I can eat out of a bowl with a spoon.  And if the television is working, there is absolutely no reason for conversation.  Something that should only occur during cigarette breaks.


    This time next month this exact same activity will be repeated only this time next month there will be the added expense of gift giving and the trauma of gift receiving.

     The only thing I really want for Christmas is one of those remote control helicopters that can be flown indoors.  It'll probably last about three minutes, unless the Grey Cat is locked up or sleeping.

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