Wait, I made up the part about incontinence. Also bliss.
And they would do all this for me -- and you, yes you, Dear Reader -- because I guess we're too dumb to work Bing or Google, and because of course, you'd use an online search-engine to search directly for a personal firearm. (Reviews, maybe, but face it, any Ring of Fire slagmaker can whomp up a glitzy website and hire some SEO flacks.)
My reply is always the same, "Get Lost" over a full quote of their message, and they never, ever take the hint; I always get back a wanly-grinning Dale-Carnegiesque, "Thank you for the reply, I'd really appreciate a minute of your time to learn why this is not of interest to you."
Well, see, buddy, I am neither HuffPo nor The Watching-Paint-Dry Intelligencer. This is my hobby. And what you see on this blog is what I think and see and say. Nobody else gets to generate the content. Go play search engine with a stacked deck somewhere else.
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* Gentlemen, for as long as I have been seeing golf, I have been finding it indigestible. Just sayin'.
4 comments:
Spectator golf, for people who find watching chess matches to heart-stoppingly exciting.
er, too, heart stoppingly exciting.
Spectator golf, for people who find watching chess matches to heart-stoppingly exciting.
Chris is having a Bad Day.
Roberta, why do you insist on standing in the way of Progress For All Mankind like that?
(runz, uh, hobbles)
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