It’s almost spring, Pumpkins. A time of renewal. Resurrection. Bunnies. And, with it, the mystery of the Thomas Cook rebirth need not confound us much longer. Come March 13th, 2 days before the fated ides of March, all will be revealed.…
Well, dear Pumpkins, I don’t think I’ve seen such low blowing swings since my rather well dispossessed husband tried to philander with our diminutive cleaning lady. And I thought that was the year of the snake. First it…
Competition in the destination wedding market is hotter than a fire station’s pole-cam. My goodness, dahrlings, it’s comforting to witness those boys wrap their hard python thighs around that little pole at a moment’s notice. Calling 911, fire burning…
The modern world is too modern for me, Pumpkins. First it’s the ink cartridge. Dreadful contraption. Then it’s saline. What’s wrong with a nice cup of silicone? It’s firm yet jiggly. Withstands up to 100 pounds of pressure per square…
Have you ever noticed, dahrlings, computer things are fruit (blackberries and apples) and airlines are colour. AC is rouge the colour of blush They’re hiring crew in a really big rush Transat is blue – but their moving…
Pumpkins, you no longer have to watch your wealthy single male clients suffer the agony of vacationing alone. Oh, the loneliness. The Lady Travels website will hook them up with attractive females who want to travel for free. Apparently we…
Men are reclaiming their penises, Pumpkins. A book entitled The Life and Times of the Penis, relates the torrid relationship of man to member. It was only a matter of time, dahrlings. The ubiquitous image of the defamed phallus…
It’s really no surprise, Pumpkins, that the Dreamliner’s batteries are all wacked. Lithium is a very complex substance. My cousin took lithium for years. And he was wacked. You’d think that after delaying delivery forever, (“This time it’s almost ready. Really. For sure.”)…
Bruce Bishins died on January 16, 2013 on the occasion of his 62nd birthday. I remember many occasions, Pumpkins, when Bishy and I lay back with a smoke, exhausted from a heated night of debating. We didn’t see eye…
Here we go again, media shots everywhere of the poor old Concordia, still looming like a beached whale off the coast of Italy for the entire world to see. If I keel over, Pumpkins, promise you’ll throw a tarp over…
