Exit polls at the cottage cheese vote indicate a strong likelihood that I’ll be eating the cottage cheese tomorrow. In order to prepare my stomach for possible food poisoning, Beta and I listened to a cassette we found in the clown car while driving into Vienna this morning. Said cassette has a picture of the band on the front, four or five grown men in Lederhosen, and is filled with music to match. Mucho accordeon, yodeling and a clarinet doing klezmer-style scales.
My throat is still sore from going “yee-haw” very loudly, and repeatedly, in traffic, to Beta’s apparent shock and amusement. That is what you do when you hear that sort of music, you see.
Bring on the cheese.
Yikes! My father-in-common-law listens to that stuff. It makes me extremely nervous in an oompah-oompah sort of way.
If you really must eat the cottage cheese, fine, but don’t come crying to me, buddy.
I’m sending you a Flipper cdm with some Polkacide stuck on the end.
I’m sending you a Flipper cd, with some Polkacide stuck on the end.