Over the years I got to be quite a connoisseur of soap. My personal preference was for Lux, but I found Palmolive had a nice, piquant after-dinner flavor - heady, but with just a touch of mellow smoothness. Life Buoy, on the other hand…
potty mouth.
Be sure to drink your Ovaltine.
That’s it? A crummy commercial?
Noddafingah!
It’s a major award!
Shunsabishes! Bumpus hounds!
Deck the hall with boughs of horry, fa ra ra ra ra, ra ra ra ra.
Except I didn’t say “fudge.”
Mundane Noodle!
It was… it was… soap poisoning!
Ho Ho Ho!!!
…
AAAAAAAAHH! AAAAAHHHHHH! AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!
The soft glow of electric sex gleaming in the window…
Good thing I have a compass in the stock.
Was there no end to the conspiracy of irrational prejudice against Red Ryder and his peacemaker?
The light was getting purple and soft outside. Almost time for my father to come home from work.
And this thing which tells time.
Daddy’s gonna kill Ralphie!
In the heat of battle my father wove a tapestry of obscenities that as far as we know is still hanging in space over Lake Michigan.
Aunt Clara had for years labored under the delusion that I was not only perpetually 4 years old, but also a girl.
Skunked again.