Talkin' figure eights for the modern man (or: how I learned to stop worrying and love my mum)
Does it rain like this every Saturday morning? The last Saturday morning I think I saw first-hand was back in the eighth grade, and I'm pretty sure it was because I was tricked into believing it was Christmas morning...or I got my days mixed all about and I was under the impression that my alto saxophone skill was required for early-morning band practise at the school. Either way, it was a damned awful mistake to make, and this morning six years later has once again left me less-than-thrilled to be missing out on another few hours of sawing logs.
"But enough about me - has anybody told you that you look fantastic today? Saturday morning can't bring you down, can it? Of course, you always look good, baby."
You think any pretty little ladies out there would go for that little Saturday morning soliloquy?
No? Ah well, back to the drawing board, as they say.
I need a nice pair of Rhineharts to make me look mysterious. And keep the sun from burning my retinas. Here another summer has almost passed, and to think of the UV rays I've exposed my sensitive eyeballs to...it's enough to make a man sick with regret. So if anybody knows where I can get an ultra-hip pair of Rhineharts a la Cliff Richard and the Shadows, or the guys from that Tom Hanks movie where there was a pop band and the elf from Lord of the Rings was in it, let me know. I'll pay you a finder's fee.
God Almighty, I need some pancakes.
'Til the next time we say good-bye - I'll be thinkin' of you...
(and you, too!)
"But enough about me - has anybody told you that you look fantastic today? Saturday morning can't bring you down, can it? Of course, you always look good, baby."
You think any pretty little ladies out there would go for that little Saturday morning soliloquy?
No? Ah well, back to the drawing board, as they say.
I need a nice pair of Rhineharts to make me look mysterious. And keep the sun from burning my retinas. Here another summer has almost passed, and to think of the UV rays I've exposed my sensitive eyeballs to...it's enough to make a man sick with regret. So if anybody knows where I can get an ultra-hip pair of Rhineharts a la Cliff Richard and the Shadows, or the guys from that Tom Hanks movie where there was a pop band and the elf from Lord of the Rings was in it, let me know. I'll pay you a finder's fee.
God Almighty, I need some pancakes.
'Til the next time we say good-bye - I'll be thinkin' of you...
(and you, too!)