Called up to the show
Yeah, I was in the show. I was in the show for 21 days once – the 21 greatest days of my life. You know, you never handle your luggage in the show, somebody else carries your bags. It was great. You hit white balls for batting practice, the ballparks are like cathedrals, the hotels all have room service, and the women all have long legs and brains. – Crash Davis
One learns, after many years of working and being married, that if you put off an annoying or aggravating task long enough, eventually someone else will make that exaggerated sighing sound, grit their teeth, and do the job you didn’t want to do.
Which is how I came to be here.
Welcome to the New & Improved TBogg 2.0. Jane & Christy and all of the wonderful folks at FDL have invited me over here to their A-List blog, proving that dreams really do come true if you stay true to your vision and get other people to work really really hard exclusively for your benefit. Blogging here will stay basically the same although I reserve the right to reinvent myself just like Madonna but without the boob cones and the fake English accent. I have brought along the usual cast of characters: Doughy Pantload, Victor Davis MMMMMBop Hanson, Godlstein, Gun Counter Gomer, Special Ed, Ace O’Spades: Putative Heterosexual, The Clenis and his lovely wife Senator Clagina, and that crazy unemployable lady who stalks crippled kids. Oh, yes, the Lovely & Talented Casey, the Delightful and Thought-My-Cliffhanger-Post-Last-Night-Was-Mean mrs tbogg, and the boys, Satchmo and Beckham have moved over with me too.
As a side note, although I won’t be posting there anymore, the old Casa de Tbogg will be sticking around for awhile so that people can go visit it and reminisce just like at the Reagan Ranch but without Peggy Noonan humping the doorknob.
See? Just like old times…