Retired chimneysweep (really!) current sports announcer living in Seattle
Noman is an island.
Jason, are you OK tonight? Didn’t you evr see an E in 12% of words? And shouldn’t The Lord be with us?
Good one! My favorite “Les” saying is: Here lies Lester Moore / Shot 4 times with a .44 / No Les, no Moore.
Someone’s going to have to explain “YOLO” to me.
Silver, you’ll probably post before I do, as somehow your East Coast Magic seems to kick in a minute or two ahead of here. Nonetheless, it’s delightful to have you back. My modest offering for tonight follows:
The defendant asks his lawyer, “Those jurors look pretty grim. Do you really think I’ll be able to get justice from them?”
“Oh, heavens no, “ his counselor replied. “I know for a fact at least two of them are unalterably opposed to the death penalty.”
I was called a racist once for referring to my color commentator as a color commentator.
Trouble with pipes is that when I get too stoned (yes, there is such a thing) I suck on the wrong end of the pipe.
It’s Silver who says he never repeats, not I. And this audience keeps growing anyway; it was new to many, plus it gave you a second grin. Good mileage, no?
I have a lot of respect for Lalo; he worked himself out of the barrio and made a career for himself. He did thank me, ut the roach was way too smoke to re-light.
Tonight I’ll go with another true story tonight from Eromlig’s Annals:
South of Seattle is a city called Tacoma. Many years ago, when I was a freelance writer, I penned a piece for a little newspaper in the area. In one article I had referred to a “Tacoman” and the editor, after receiving my copy, angrily called me. “We can’t print ethnic slurs like this!” he snarled.
“Um, what ethnic slur?” I asked, totally mystified.
In high dudgeon, the editor, who had only recently moved to the Northwest, answered,”I don’t care if the man is from Mexico; you can’t call him a Taco Man in MY newspaper!”
After I regained my composure, I explained to him it was pronounced tah-COE-man, not TAH-co-man, and it referred to people from Tacoma. The editor let me off the hook (“This time!”) but kept an eye on me, since I was still chuckling.
The irony – and the reason for my chuckle — was that the “Mexican” he thought I was writing about was named Bjork.
POSTSCRIPT: I shared this story with Lalo Alcarez of La Cucaracha. He loved it!