It's Saturday. It's a holiday. Eight people are going to read my blog. Hi, eight people!
So I will be brief as opposed to boxers. First of all, Marvin showed me that if you Google Image 241543903, you just get image after image of people sticking their head in the freezer.
I am not making this up. Go look.
Sometimes I adore people. This is one of those times.
Also, I am getting mentally prepared for the Jerry Lewis Labor Day Telethon. I have NEVER MISSED watching at least a few minutes of this wretched show throughout my entire life. I mean, where else are you gonna rock out to some Tony Orlando and Andrea McArdle nowadays, huh?
To get in the spirit, I called my friend David in LA and sang, "Could you please arrange? To let me keep the change? For my kids." (With apologies to Faithful Reader Saginawman, whose fault it is that I remember this song.)
Do you remember that? Oh, how I wish I could sing it to all of you. Jerry Lewis, with his fine singing voice, would sing that in a 7-Eleven commercial every.single.year. right before the telethon.
So I sang it to my friend David, who was walking the streets of LA–not that he's a prostitute–and he said, "You have to sing this for Keith. Let me put you on speakerphone."
And that, my friends, is how I ended up singing to the streets of Los Angeles last night, and I am just waiting to get discovered. Sure, Marvin does not allow me to sing in the house, in the car with him, or anywhere that he is anyplace near me, but I am telling you he doesn't know from singing. Even if he DID graduate from music school. I have a fine voice.
I don't know WHY the cats look scared whenever I belt out the "800-588-two three hundred EMPIRE!" song.
Okay. That is all I have to tell you. Is anyone doing anything fun this weekend? We are having a dinner bash in about eight seconds and I am in my rose pajamas and the house looks like Sanford & Son's, so goodbye.