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Fantastic word game

My first band camp experience included a small group of us playing our own musical instruments in the park during a rock concert.

Yep, there used to be live rock concerts in the park, and people brought their own instruments to play; but alas, that was another park, another Sunday, when it was safe for all.
 
A rock concert left me very disappointed because it turned out that no matter what different sizes of rocks the drummer banged on, they all made pretty much the same dull sound.

You ask where I saw this rock concert? In Boulder, of course. :)
 
Sneaking up on you is what old age does and before you know it, you find yourself fully engulfed in a mid-life crisis that has you wanting to buy a convertible sports car so you can go for a topless drive around town in hopes of impressing a few impressionable young ladies.
 
Impressionable young ladies, and a few not so young, have occasionally gone gaga over a debonair hustler, but not our interns, who were last heard giggling and telling one, while wagging a no-no finger that they don't give money to men, so asking was pointless and a waste of breath and precious time.

Where do they come up with this stuff? Oh, wait a minute, the band camp charm school, of course.
 
Turkey Day is but one of the big deal turkey dinners around band camp, what with the ladies and gals all pitching in for the festivities, and the gents and guys with their little lookout to be sure they don't get caught slicing and tasting bits of turkey and gobs of dressing, which we might not catch easily or readily.

That's why we have the all new zap it finger swatters at all kitchen posts
 
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Begin my weekend makes for rather awkward sentence structure, but we manage to move along through posts, wondering whether we will make it through 32 pages between now and December 31...of this year.
 
This year, I fear, will disappear, and from what I hear in my little ear, another year will soon be here, so do not jeer and do not leer or say "Oh, dear" or shed a tear, because I'll be near to keep things in gear and I won't give you a bum steer.
 
A bum steer is what I hear that LARR wanted for his Christmas gift but I didn't think that was appropriate so I've encouraged him to drive in another direction.

Get it? Steer? Drive? See what I did there??

So Christmas has officially arrived here in New England in the form of one radio station here in Worcester County flipping to all-Christmas and another one or two in Rhode Island doing the same. I have officially said goodbye to those stations (only one of which I occasionally listen to, the one in Worcester County) until approximately December 26th-ish.
 
That won't last if we can get them to attend a Dave & Kenny's 80s Rockfest some Saturday night at Illusions.

Just saw dmargalotti heading into the Rockfest Van for the drive down to Illusions. I'm heading down that way myself in a short amount of time. See y'all down there tonight!!
 
Saturday night at Illusions there's always a happening scene full of cool hipsters and hep cats, but there's also the periphery of the establishment where the hangers-on and wannabes congregate.
 
Congregate at church and pass around the communion wine and you're considered to be good Christian people, but congregate on a street corner and pass around a bottle of cheap whiskey and you're considered to be a bunch of drunken bums.

I know that's not a nice image but my other option was to say something about a "congregate" being the best way to keep unauthorized people out of the congre.
 
A bunch of drunken bums just tried to crash the 80s Rockfest at Illusions but they were thrown out by the bouncers and sent on their drunken merry way.

Otherwise, a great time going on here at Illusions. Even LARR is here, surprising us with a visit. Right this very second, he's on his 18th attempt at riding the mechanical bull. Methinks the boy and his boys (if'n you know what I mean) are gonna be sore tomorrow.
 


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