Well... It looks like the missuz ain't in a family way. Thanks for those crossing fingers and well-wishin', but the menses be flowin'. She's out tying one on with her friend tonight, since I guess there's no fetus to damage.
We're not really disappointed or anything. We're in the 'if it happens, it happens' mind frame. The O-Dog and the Fletchmonster keep us happy, laughing and on our toes. Since my wife's of Irish descent, though, she's got that baby-making apparatus that's supposed to churn one out every 11 months. Me? I'm Hispanic. I'm aiming to embody that '15 in the car' joke white people like to tell.
Because I'm not likely to get any tail tonight, there's no sense in slapping the old smoothies on the turntable this evening. Tonight's featured artists cook things up in an entirely different fashion:
The Delta 72
Add 3 cups frenetic energy
1 steaming organ
1 raw throat
1 fifth of Wild Turkey
1 tbsp R&B
2 tbsp Rock & Roll
Throw in the Cuisinart and pulse like a m*ther-f*cker.
Yields 1 or 2 speeding tickets.
(or a couple broken bed springs)
I Feel Fine
Rich Girls Like to Steal
Mainline Pt. 2