I take you back to the film The Mechanic, where, at one point, Charles Bronson and Jan-Michael Vincent (J-MV) are poised to kill a bunch of motorcycle thugs. To gain entry to the thugly compound, J-MV poses as a chicken delivery man and utters that famous phrase, "Chicken Lickin' is lickin' chicken," and behold, the doors open. Believability issue: Chicken delivery? I suppose that motorcycle thugs can arrange for chicken delivery although it would be more fun to ride one's chopper in search of A Little KFC. What about J-MV starring later in Abduction II: The Reunion, among other topnotch flicks? Abduction / Reunion? What, like a bunch of kidnap victims and / or kidnappers get together to reminisce about the good ol' days? And I mean, that movie was a *sequel*, Jack, a sequel. i.e., There was "The One That Started It All."
Speaking of which: Note the "BUY 1 GET 1 FREE" above in the Chickin Lickin (sic) window. We, in the biz, call that A Little Two For One. You should always be on the lookout for A Little Two For One. Classic Twos-For-One include the Northeast Corridor, pollination, and nail polish remover. Underground or "cult" Twos-For-One include nimbostratus clouds, mumbo jumbo, and jumbo: Slice, gumbo, and mambo. The mambo, folks, is a dance while its cousin, the mamba, is a To-Be-Avoided snake. The mamba dances the mambo while the mambo only knows the motion of the commotion of the Land of Goshen. Hence, a little Two For One. Eh? What about "W" and his father? Perhaps the Clintons. Funkadelic and Parliament? Kool and Newport? Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumbass. A Little Two For One, folks.
I wanted, this week, to veer into politics. I wanted to Rail. To, you know, impress you all with my "acumen." I think, maybe, that we have entered a new era. And this era should be known as Post-Intellect. That is, we, as a nation, seem to have the IQ of a Post. We could only hope that (that) means a blog entry or an overseas position, as opposed to a piece of mail or a fence part. Lately, I've resided in horror at the prospect of typing two "thats" in a row. Why the hell would anyone be so freaking lackadaisical as to require two pronouns in a row. You don't see "him him" or "she she" although there could be a stutter of sorts: "You ... you bah-stard." Ah, I take you back to an era where the word "bah-stard" actually stood for something. In these Post-Intellect days, you can't even insult anyone anymore. You can rattle off a hundred curses and it's, like, nothing. Take away someone's Chicken Lickin', though, and you're Cruisin' For A Bruisin'. I rest my case. In that, I sit down and chill my weary duff. xo B.A.
Speaking of which: Note the "BUY 1 GET 1 FREE" above in the Chickin Lickin (sic) window. We, in the biz, call that A Little Two For One. You should always be on the lookout for A Little Two For One. Classic Twos-For-One include the Northeast Corridor, pollination, and nail polish remover. Underground or "cult" Twos-For-One include nimbostratus clouds, mumbo jumbo, and jumbo: Slice, gumbo, and mambo. The mambo, folks, is a dance while its cousin, the mamba, is a To-Be-Avoided snake. The mamba dances the mambo while the mambo only knows the motion of the commotion of the Land of Goshen. Hence, a little Two For One. Eh? What about "W" and his father? Perhaps the Clintons. Funkadelic and Parliament? Kool and Newport? Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumbass. A Little Two For One, folks.
I wanted, this week, to veer into politics. I wanted to Rail. To, you know, impress you all with my "acumen." I think, maybe, that we have entered a new era. And this era should be known as Post-Intellect. That is, we, as a nation, seem to have the IQ of a Post. We could only hope that (that) means a blog entry or an overseas position, as opposed to a piece of mail or a fence part. Lately, I've resided in horror at the prospect of typing two "thats" in a row. Why the hell would anyone be so freaking lackadaisical as to require two pronouns in a row. You don't see "him him" or "she she" although there could be a stutter of sorts: "You ... you bah-stard." Ah, I take you back to an era where the word "bah-stard" actually stood for something. In these Post-Intellect days, you can't even insult anyone anymore. You can rattle off a hundred curses and it's, like, nothing. Take away someone's Chicken Lickin', though, and you're Cruisin' For A Bruisin'. I rest my case. In that, I sit down and chill my weary duff. xo B.A.
