Don't you hate it when there's something you REALLY, REALLY want to blog about... but you really, really can't?
In other news, if I see that freaking Jessica Simpson roller-skating video one more time, I might commit hara-kiri.
When we were kids, we pronounced it "harry caray," which, as you know, is something/one altogether different. We convinced our neighbor kids that commiting 'harry caray' would turn you into some old guy with big glasses who liked to yell "HEY!" a lot*. They were skeered.
Speaking of Harry Caray, have you ever been stuck in O'Hare on a layover that was way too long? Yeah... Harry Caray's restaurant is a lifesaver in that place. You'll probably end up ordering a heart attack on a plate, but everything is mighty tasty.
Hey! Would you eat the moon if it were made of ribs? I would!
Hey! If you could be the top scientist in your field or have Mad Cow Disease, which one would you pick?
That's all I have today, friends. Thanks for following along on Grumpy Frump's Wide, Wide World of Digression.
*No hate mail, please. I loved Harry Caray, even though I'm not from Chicago.