Farmer H took The Pony to see The Three Stooges movie this morning. The Pony pronounced it hilarious. I'm sure Farmer H shares his sentiments. He used to be a big fan of the Ernest movies as well. Yet he tells me I have no sense of humor. And that SNL is entertainment for morons. Because, you know, The Three Stooges is highbrow art. And I'm astonished that Jim Varney had not been posthumously awarded the Nobel Prize in Slapstick.
While they were gone, I caught up on some domestic engineering. I am mystified by a pair of The Pony's socks. One black. One navy. The Pony swears that's how they were rolled up in his drawer. And that there is NOT another pair just like them. That it's the only pair of colored socks in his room. I would love to go prospecting in there and mine the identical pair out of a pile of floor ore, but time does not permit such luxuries. His comeuppance will have to wait.
I might as well give up and let them run around Hillmomba in goat-skin, Flintstone-like garb. I don't think either would bat an eye. The only thing that gets their attention is when they run out of forks. The #1 son, on the other hand, is quick to shout, "SOMEbody needs to do the laundry." Because he is nearly walking upright, so as to save his knuckles for intricate electronic skulduggery.
When I told him that Farmer H and The Pony were going to see The Three Stooges, #1 groaned. "That movie looks SO STUPID!"
He's a regular elitist.
2 comments:
If it's half as stupid as the original, it IS moronic.
I hope they took some Spam with them. Perhaps some QuikTrip apple fritters. They need something "manly" to munch on while they're guffawing.
Sioux,
They went to the 10:30 a.m. showing. So they picked up a dozen Casey's day-old donuts. The iced, glazed kind. That get soggy after the first day.
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