Geritol and Flintstones

Mr. and Mrs. Larry King just make me feel all icky. They came to town last night to present the Singin' and Story-Tellin' King Family Revue. I didn't attend.

Seriously, seriously. Not for a million dollars.

Few game shows exist that would entice me out of my nice, comfy, introverted shell. "Who Wants to Be A Millionaire" is one.

"Wipeout" is not.

How does one network go to such extremes?

Ooo, how embarrassing.

Oh, yuck. There's something on his teeth. Ew. Now, what does he do when he eats a spinach and strawberry salad? Are his friends going to be kind enough to tell him what's stuck in his grill?

I think there's something going wrong all up in his mizzle. I'm just sayin'. Is all.

I disagree with the show's title

No, you're not.
And I'd much rather leave you there.

Ice isn't for driving on

It's bad enough to skate on ice. I know firsthand how easy it is for one's feet to fly out from beneath one's butt, thus allowing one's butt to make violent contact with the ice, which, by the way, is harder than rock. But to drive an 18-wheeler across a few scant inches of ice just so we can have oil and diamonds? No. Just no. Maybe, like Mama putting the good cookies on top of the refrigerator, God put that stuff up there so we couldn't get to it.

Self assessment

I could not be the idiotic, ugly, brainless, stinking, imbecilic, foul, heartless, obtuse, short-sighted, moronic bastard who decides to fire a smart, loyal, hard-working company employee of 27 years. I don't have it in me. I'm not a scum-sucking moron.

UPDATE: I'm not the only one

I'm happy to see there are many others who do not want to be eaten by sharks. They have created a fan group for Not Being Eaten By Sharks on Facebook. Nice.