I should have said “out with the nerd, in with the blues” because it sounds better.
ha HA!
I should have said “out with the nerd, in with the blues” because it sounds better.
ha HA!
This is the story.
Of a man named Brady.
Well, not really. It’s more about a pool. In fact, I don’t think I know anyone named Brady. I did once, but technically we didn’t “know know” each other. I think his mom knew my mom for some reason or other, and at some point the name got tossed out and I heard it. Of course, at that point, he wasn’t in what most people would consider “man” stage yet. He was maybe two years older than me. But even that is irrelevant, considering that the original man named Brady was actually named Mike. Brady was his last name, not his first. I can’t say that I’ve ever known anyone with the last name Brady. That’s not to say that there aren’t stories about men named Brady, or men with the last name Brady, or even just men. But the story that I’m telling today has nothing to do with any of those things.
Okay, I suppose that technically, some men are involved in the story. But certainly no Bradys of either variety.
Ooh ooh, pick me pick me!
We come to you live from Amarillo…riveting, isn’t it?
*cricket cricket*
(score one for obscure song reference)
It has been a ridiculously long time, for a lot of things, in a lot of respects.
Today means there are only a few days left in the whole “Italy” thing.