My wife has recently lost a lot of weight, started going to the gym to work out five days a week, highlighted her hair, bought a bunch of new clothes including many sexy bras and panties, keeps buying more and more beauty supplies, jewelry, and fancy makeup, and spends a whole lot of time online and on her cell phone visiting with a male co-worker. I started to really wonder about all this so one night when she said she was going out for a walk, I hid in the garage behind my golf clubs to spy on her. Later, this guy pulled up and parked next to the curb in a conversion van down the street and she hopped in the side door and soon the windows began to steam up. It was at this time I noticed a tiny, hairline crack in the head of my Callaway driver. Is that something I could fix myself, or should I take it to the golf shop?
Uh, take it to the golf shop, What. That's an expensive piece of golf equipment and maybe it's salvageable. Unless you're a trained professional craftsman, no sense you trying to fix it and possibly screwing it up. Also, unless your garage is heated, it's not wise to store your golf clubs and balls there in the off-season. Put them in the basement where they'll be warm and dry. Does your wife play?
*What gives, Strucker?
I think Roger Clemens is guilty of using steroids. How about you?
I believe the Rocket, What. I also believe in the Easter Bunny, Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, Martians, UFOs, It's Not Really Butter, Pamela Anderson's are real, the check's in the mail, Larrabee will soon get an Olive Garden, Angela Jolie has a crush on me, the Celtics and Yankees are looking at my college game films, Tiger Woods and Phil Mickelson are dying to play in my foursome, and that nobody ever has any fun at the annual Cherokee Jazz & Blues Festival.
*What gives, Strucker?
Where you been?
Man, What, I work day and night eight days a week. I even work over noon hour so I can put in a 25-hour day. I tell you, What, it's not easy being me... Naah... Basically, What, I'm a lazy bum with no skills who has conned people for 45 years in a dozen different jobs. I got into the newspaper biz because there's no heavy lifting, no factory lines, comfortable chairs, air conditioning, varied hours, interesting assignments, you meet pretty women, you can eat on the job, and ballgames are free. Pretty good gig, pay notwithstanding. However, the world over, there are plenty of Tontos out there lusting to be the Lone Ranger, so you must stay on your toes, which, while maybe making you appear taller, really hurts, the older you get.
And that's what gives for today, Strucker!