Do you think I could buy back my introduction to you?
I ought to join a club and beat you over the head with it.
[Dave-Guy] Congratulations, RT, and I’d actually like to ask you a serious question now: [/Dave-Guy]
Do you think girls think less of a fellow if he lets himself be kissed on the first date? I mean, even though they go out with boys like me, don’t you think they end up marrying the other kind?
Hello, I must be going…
Smut!!!
Give me smut and nothing but.
A dirty novel I can’t shut
if it’s uncut
and unsub…tle!
And, from the juiciest, spiciest, raciest obituary it was ever his pleasure to read:
“Alma tell us,
All modern women are jealous.
Which of your magical wands
got you Gustav and Walter and Franz?”
Oh, he’s no fun, he fell right over.
I wouldn’t want to belong to any club that would have me for a member.
But in this case, I’ll make an exception. Happy 5k RT!
*Oh Lydia, oh Lydia, say, have you met Lydia?
Lydia The Tattooed Lady.
She has eyes that folks adore so,
and a torso even more so.
Lydia, oh Lydia, that encyclo-pidia.
Oh Lydia The Queen of Tattoo.
On her back is The Battle of Waterloo.
Beside it, The Wreck of the Hesperus too.
And proudly above waves the red, white, and blue.
You can learn a lot from Lydia! *
This is a paraphrase of Groucho, since it’s so long since I’ve seen the original:
(Speaking to Margaret Dumont)
“I have of vision. I see you in the kitchen in front of the stove. But I can’t see the stove.”
PS. I had the pleasure of working with David Ossman (of Firesign Theatre) in a live radio drama performance about 15 years ago. He was the artistic director; I was the technical director. Loads of laughs; loads of fun.
yojimboguy, I am so envious.
yojimboguy: you worked with David Ossman? Way cool!!
Dave-Guy: “I’m wise! I’m wise!”
“You’re wise, eh? What’s the capital of Nebraska? What’s the capital of the Chase National Bank?”
Euty: “The sun is going down!”
“No, m’boy, the horizon is moving up!”
Bumbazine: “I’ve a mind to join a club and…” - oops, guess Dave beat me to that one!
Baker: “Some people have hobbies
like tennis or philately.
I’ve got a hobby -
re-reading Lady Chatterly.” 
Larry: “He’s broken the President!”
Jonathan: “Say the magic woid, and the duck will come down and give you $100.”
Zappo: “Do whatever steps you want if
you have cleared them with the Pontiff,
everybody say his own
Kyrie Eleison,
doin’ the Vatican Rag!”
And, for all of you:
“Injuns! Pull the wagons into a circle!”
“Why do you always do that?”
“We get better reception that way. Mind if we put our antenna on yonder hill?”
“That’s no hill, that’s our sacred mound!”
“Well, this is our sacred antenna. Made out of aluminum. Got any aluminum?”
“I’ll meet you tonight, under the moon. Tonight, tonight, when the clouds are creeping around the moon, I’ll be creeping around you. I can see it now, you and the moon. You wear a necktie so I’ll know you.”
“As the judge remarked the day that he acquitted my Aunt Hortense,
To be smut it must be ut-terly without redeeming social importance,”
REGNAD KCIN!
Happy 5000th RT
I’ve always been amazed and entertained by fireflies
Shall we spice up the party a bit more?
I ache for the touch of your lips, dear,
But much more for the touch of your whips, dear.
You can raise welts
Like nobody else,
As we dance to the Masochism Tango.
Olé!
One man deserves the credit,
one man deserves the blame,
and Nicolai Ivanovich Lobachevsky is his name!
When Mozart was your age, he had been dead for 15 years.
For there is surely nothing more beautiful in this world than the sight of a lone man facing single-handedly a half a ton of angry pot roast.
Sure, marriage was good enough for your grandmother; but who wants to marry your grandmother. Nobody! Not even your grandfather.
This program is brought to you by the Golden Goose Furniture Co., with 3 convenient locations: 125th St., 125th St., and 125th St. You provide the girl, we tar and feather your nest. Look for our ad in today ash-can.
Hey, you big bully, why are you picking on that little bully?
Shoes for industry, compadre!
Let’s make sure we give RT the proper respect. After all…
There were Fireflies on the Mayflower. There were horseflies, too. The Fireflies were on the upper deck, and the horseflies were on the Fireflies.
All the world seems in tune
On a spring afternoon
While we’re poisoning pigeons in the park…
Has anyone ever told you you look like the Prince of Wales? Not the current prince, one of the old Wales. And believe me, when I say Wales, I mean Wales. I know a whale when I see one.
Congratulatioins again to a man who’s licked his weight in wild caterpillars!
AAAAAAGGGGGHHHHH!!!
EUTY STOLE MINE!!!
That’s it. NO “happy 5000,” NO quotes from me, NO well-wishes…I’m just going to sit over here and sulk.
[sub]grump grump grump[/sub]
I can shout. Don’t hear you.
East is east and west is west and if you take cranberries and stew them like applesauce they taste more like prunes than rhubarb does.
Life is like a sewer – what you get out of it depends a lot on what you put into it.
Now, what about my pickle?
Shoes for Industry! Shoes for the Dead! Shoes for Industry!
Hi, I’m Joe Beets. Say, what chance does a returning deceased war veteran have for that good-paying job, more sugar, and the free mule you’ve been dreaming of? Well, think it over. Then take off your shoes.
Now you can see how increased spending opportunities mean harder work for everyone, and more of it, too! So do your part today, Joe. Join with millions of your neighbors and turn in your shoes.
For Industry!
When I was teaching at a Christian college, this one used to regularly go through my head:
“Daddy, where can I get a good deal in a Christian atmosphere?”
(Here, friends, right here! :D)
Welcome to side six. Follow in your books and repeat after me as we learn three new words in Turkish. Towels. Taffy. Border . . . may I see your passport please?
Los Angeles. He walks again by night. Out of the fog. Into the smog. Determinedly. Doggedly (woof, woof). Ruthlessly (“I wonder where Ruth is.”). At Drucker and Fourth he turns left. At Fourth and Drucker he turns right. He crosses Macarthur Park and walks into a large sandstone building (“Ooh, my nose!”).
I’d like to order a pizza to go, with no anchovies.
Clone me, Dr. Memory.
“No anchovies? You’ve got the wrong man. I spell my name - DANGER!!”
“Detail dress circuits.”
“Belt: Above-A. Below-B.”
“Close ‘B’ clothes mode.”