« on: February 17, 2013, 03:55:22 am »
then you will like goats yelling like people.
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Who knows what I put in that fridge? It was certainly not much. I think I had a hot plate, too. I used it for pork and beans...probably.
His dad was enjoying the Corn Flakes. There was no milk. That was something new to me, Coke in the morning, and I tried it for a while.
Hello students –
No doubt you’re happy that administrators decided school will be closed on Monday. I don’t mind a day off, now and then, myself.
Let me take the occasion, however, to point out a few things. This much-hyped “storm” is forecast by “wunderground.com” to affect our area Monday as follows:
"Overcast with rain showers. Fog early. High of 64F. Windy. Winds from the ENE at 30 to 40 mph with gusts to 70 mph. Chance of rain 100% with rainfall amounts near 0.3 in. possible."
Big deal. I guess New Englanders can’t be expected anymore to deal with a little rain and gusts of wind. Or maybe, it’s just government institutions with no revenue to lose, that can’t refrain taking a paid vacation. I bet the malls are all open tomorrow.
The whole federal government in Washington, D.C., has been known to close down under a whole inch of snow.
But maybe it’s our national character, as Steyn might argue. A few weeks ago, a major league baseball game was cancelled, not because of rain, but because of the “threat” of rain. It used to be baseball tradition to play in the rain until the ground got so muddy and visibility so limited, that the game would be suspended for an hour or more just to see if the rain would let up. I guess no more.
Anyway, see you Wednesday – if the authorities allow.
This was around the time when Amy was still on SNL, and I think Chevy wanted to get back involved with the show—trying to get to know the young guys—so he was coming around the theater. I came in, and Chevy was backstage. Just to preface it, I grew up the biggest Chevy Chase fan in the world. I knew every word to Fletch and Caddyshack. I wanted to be Chevy Chase. So we go into a little spot just off the lip of the stage, and there was a break in the conversation, so I said, “Chevy, I just want to introduce myself. I’m Rob Huebel.” And he just slapped me across the face. He didn’t say anything; he just looked at me for a second and belted me. It was really hard—offensively hard.
I don’t mean to sound like Sid Vicious or anything, but there are a lot of those nights I don’t remember. I do remember, one night, I threw a stool at this jukebox. Kurt Cobain was playing, and I thought that he would like that. Afterward, I called [the bar] very sheepishly and was like, “Sorry. I want to pay for that jukebox.” And the owner said, “Eh, don’t worry about it.” We pledged our undying support of his bar for life. I was given a key eventually.