I’ll enjoy that much more than being the ol’ lady at a bar to see her play. At least then I’ll be surrounded by old people, not just you and Dave and Chris.
There were other old people there.
Management…janitors…
And I think her bassist was older than all of us.
Last time someone other than my dad called my mom “baby,” Mom looked them dead in the eye and said, "What you can do right now is write in the space for my name, ‘The Bitch Who Will Ruin Your Day in Front of Your Boss Because You Will Get Your Boss Over Here Right Now.’ "
Mom’s a pip sometimes.
Can anybody spell…
the nickname Jon?
Can you tell me which way’s wrong?
He leaves out all the h’s,
But it seems the board, it don’t care.
every one of them,
spells it wrong…
Jesus Christ, there’s too many MADs whose initials are ‘JC’!
:Ginger checks the back yard for crucifixes:
My name is Torgo, I drive a Yugo.
And while we’re on the subject…
My son’s name is Aaron. Note the two A’s at the beginning of his name. It’s not Aron, or (God help us) Erin.
Thank you.
Robin
It’s Robb - with 2 b’s.
Wow! My middle name is Aaron, and my brother’s name is Jonathan.
We’re quite the mis-spelled family over here…
It’s like we’re related, Soup.
Dude!
Fighter-Wisely (as an example)
Not Biter-Wisest. Not Bitter-Wisell. Bitter is not my middle name nor my first name. No, I don’t care what the automaton told you. S/he was reading off a form and, when s/he saw hyphen, thought comma. If you call me Biter, I may well live up to it.
You sucked on Survivor…
I feel your pain, Jon. My first name is Melorie, and for some crazy reason, every schmuck I run into thinks I’ve somehow managed to botch my own name. “Oh, what was that?” they ask. “Melanie? Mallory?” No, assholes… Melorie. Melorie. Grrr. These days I just tell folks to call me Mel. Makes things easier.
I went to school with a “J-O-N.” Are you him? We saw “Herbie Goes Banannas” at the Elco theater. Remember?
Testify!
My god given name.
It’s ‘Jonathan’.
Not ‘John’. Or ‘Jon’.
Not ‘Johnny’ or Jonny’
J-O-N-A-T-H-A-N.
The “J” is for Jonathan. Note spelling. It’s the same damn way everyone I’ve ever met named Jonathan spells it, save one individual–a musician friend of mine from back home named Michael Johnathon. (It’s his last name. I tell him it’s “exactly wrong”.)
Oh, and it is Jonathan, by the way, not Jon. I feel so petty for letting that one bug me, but it does, dammit.
I always thought you were Johnny, Johnny Chance, hu-ah, say it, yeah. Oooooooooh, maamaa!
[/Johnny Bravo]
AHA ! Thank you, Jon.
Hi, I’m Cathy. That’s Cathy ! Not Kathy, or Kathie, or Katherine, or Catherine, or Katy or any one of another thousand combinations. It’s just Cathy. Thank you.
I’m not even going to bother with my surname. I’ve given up.
At least you know how to spell your name Jonathan. I have a friend who recently married a Micheal.
The poor sod has had to live with his parents’ idiocy for 35 years because they couldn’t spell Michael correctly.