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Tuesday, January 25, 2005

Spiro Agnew, I Hardly Knew Ye

A moment ago, I wasn't sure if Spiro Agnew was alive or dead. So I looked him up. Turns out he's dead. So I dug out my ukulele and strummed a sad, sad song. It was that one Poison song about cowboys - the one where every cowboy sings a sad, sad song.

6 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

I'm a newcomer to your blog. Just want to say that I enjoy every sentence that you write, down to the last full stop. thanks!

7:32 AM  
Blogger Misspent Life said...

Esther,

I am afraid that I cannot offer as immoderate a compliment as Anonymous. I do not love every sentence, only those that do not end in vowels. Vowels are filthy.

8:07 AM  
Blogger Chris Cope said...

Wait a second...

You're not a cowboy. What the hell are you doing singing sad, sad songs?! Next you'll be telling us about the steel horse you ride.

9:32 AM  
Blogger Müzikdüde said...

I suspect Spiro Agnew, who is not Michele Agnew because she is alive, would be pleased with the cowboy song even though he was not a cowboy. It's a sad, sad, day when a sad, sad, song is sung for the death of an Agnew.

10:40 AM  
Blogger Janet A. Roesler said...

To Misspent Life:

>>I do not love every sentence, only those that do not end in vowels. Vowels are filthy.<<

In that last sentence, "y" is a vowel (a,e,i,o,u and sometimes y). We must ask you to take your prejudices seriously.

Janet

1:17 PM  
Blogger Desert Cat said...

Sometimes...sometimes...

Sometimes I add unwarranted umlauts to my vowels when I speak.

Give the man a break! Self-loathing is a hard thing to live with.

9:27 PM  

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