By Leslie Noyes (with Studly’s assistance)
It was a riotous Friday night here at Doright Manor. I was sitting in my chair trying to come up with ideas for this blog, and Studly Doright was sitting next to me in his chair watching Storage Wars on the telly and occasionally reaching over to fondle my, um, upper arm.
No decent writing ideas were coming to me, so in desperation I turned to Studly and said, “Give me a word.”
Now, I cannot type what he said because sometimes his mother reads this blog.
“I can’t use that word,” I said. “It’s not that kind of blog.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize you needed the word for your blog. That changes everything.”
So he gave me another, equally vulgar word.
“Last chance, smarty pants,” I said. “Just give me a decent word.”
See the title of this post? Yep, that was half of what he said. I don’t know why I bother.