We all want Foghorn Leghorn because it's grand to kick back to watch him doing things which make no sense. Using that as a segue to David Byrne and Talking Heads would be ok, kind of obvious but ok. There's another example of Stop Making Sense which comes more immediately to mind and that's yesterday's panic, "Holy fuck! The pilot is crazy! We're all going to die!" (Washington Post: A United pilot ranted about Trump, Clinton and divorce. Her passengers fled.)
The reaction wasn't too much of a surprise when the pilot went right off her lid and started doing a political tent revival over the intercom of the aircraft. On hearing something of that nature, my immediate thought would be the same: get me the fuck off this aircraft.
But that wasn't enough for you, was it, li'l sugar muffin. The story meant Holy Fuck! It's Unsafe to Fly on ANY Aircraft!
And that's when we segue to Foghorn Leghorn. It's a joke. I say, it's a joke, son.
Ed: a crazy pilot is not a joke!
Hey, the copilot must have been on the radio with the tower or some such to advise, "Come on over as there's a major brain case on the aircraft just now. Could you send a truck and a net to take it away?"
And they did.
The End.
Thus far, there is no indication of a problem in the thousands of flights which followed yesterday after that one but, naturally, we will remain ever vigilant here at the Rockhouse. Don't look for that observation any time soon on MSM since titillation is their demonic demesne.
Foghorn Leghorn is not immediately available because he's tied-up with one of those boring "A"-list parties in Hollywood but Daffy Duck is here. He doesn't make any sense either but that doesn't matter when he makes fun of the Führer.
With all due respect to Herr von Limburger, of course.
The reaction wasn't too much of a surprise when the pilot went right off her lid and started doing a political tent revival over the intercom of the aircraft. On hearing something of that nature, my immediate thought would be the same: get me the fuck off this aircraft.
But that wasn't enough for you, was it, li'l sugar muffin. The story meant Holy Fuck! It's Unsafe to Fly on ANY Aircraft!
And that's when we segue to Foghorn Leghorn. It's a joke. I say, it's a joke, son.
Ed: a crazy pilot is not a joke!
Hey, the copilot must have been on the radio with the tower or some such to advise, "Come on over as there's a major brain case on the aircraft just now. Could you send a truck and a net to take it away?"
And they did.
The End.
Thus far, there is no indication of a problem in the thousands of flights which followed yesterday after that one but, naturally, we will remain ever vigilant here at the Rockhouse. Don't look for that observation any time soon on MSM since titillation is their demonic demesne.
Foghorn Leghorn is not immediately available because he's tied-up with one of those boring "A"-list parties in Hollywood but Daffy Duck is here. He doesn't make any sense either but that doesn't matter when he makes fun of the Führer.
With all due respect to Herr von Limburger, of course.
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