Sunday email from Papawilde: “The best Christmas gifts often don’t come with bows and tinsel.
Knocked in the head with a 3-and-2 fastball that summer, he was left blind for a week and forced to give up the game - leaving with a. Cuomo “plays hard” and “will run over you if you get in his way,” a Pirates scout wrote. The Divine Mum of Crocus Hill: “From Mario Cuomo’s obituary in the New York Times: ‘A strapping six feet tall, 190 pounds at age 19, he signed a contract to play center field for the Class D Brunswick Pirates in Georgia in 1952, reportedly receiving a $2,000 signing bonus, sizable for that time. “Maybe the warning should be not to do boring reading while using the hair dryer.” The scar is still plainly visible, all these 40-plus years later. The coiled wire in the hose had given me a third-degree burn where it touched my skin. I had fallen asleep with the hair-dryer hose resting on top of my wrist. Some time later, I awoke to a pain in my wrist. So, while sitting under that nice warm hair dryer, I pulled out my business-law textbook to do the assigned reading. Being a college student also meant studying at every opportunity. Getting ready to go out on a weekend meant spending Saturday afternoon getting ready. Long ago, when the style was to use the big hair rollers like juice cans, I was a college student. P.: “ Midnight Angel of Vadnais Heights wrote about the warning not to fall asleep while using the hair dryer. In these wonderful days of blow-dried styling, the warning does seem to bring Lowest Common Consumer groans, but I am living proof that it is possible to be, shall I say, that dumb. (Teenagers hate to get up early, remember.) This was much better than sleeping with brush rollers the entire night. Those were the days of rollers, and I would set my alarm to get up, wash my hair, roll it up, and then I would crawl back into bed with my GE hooded hair dryer on my head, turn on the heat and fall back to sleep. New Handle from Mac-Groveland: “When I read Midnight Angel‘s post about never using your hair dryer while sleeping, I at first thought ‘Oh for dumb,’ and then I sheepishly remembered that when I was in high school, I did just that every morning. The Lowest Common Consumer (responsorial) “I’d be surprised if every school didn’t have some creative and funny versions of that Notre Dame fight song.”
#Free notre dame victory march driver
Throw in endless codas, and by the time the band bus arrived at our away-game destination, we all were hyped - and the bus driver was glad to see us go! We never stagger, we never fall, / We sober up on wood alcohol / While the loyal faculty / Lie drunk on the ballroom floor.’ Send the freshmen out for gin, / And don’t let a sober sophomore in. Time had dimmed the lines, but what I remember is: ‘Beer, beer, for old Ramsey High / You bring the whiskey, I’ll bring the rye. Raindancer of North Oaks: “The song The Cab Driver referred to is one my librarian mother taught me. I still really miss him, as he passed away in 2009.” As one teacher remarked to my parents during a parent-teacher conference, his younger brother was fine, but my older brother almost drove her to drink. “Of course, he was one of the class hell-raisers. When I attended the school eight years later, I never heard it from anyone there. “He graduated with the Class of 1958, and many times when we got together, he would sing that. All ye sons of Wilson High / We’re out on the drunk again!’
Bring on the whiskey, bring on the rye, / Send those freshmen out for gin, / And don’t let a sober sophomore in! / We never stagger, we never fall. The song I remember my brother singing to me was as follows: ‘Beer, beer for old Wilson High. Miss Kitty of the Midway: “I want to thank The Cab Driver for bringing back a memory for me with his earworm. We sober up on wood alcohol / While the loyal faculty / Lie drunk on the barroom floor.’ ” Send the freshmen out for gin, / Don’t let the sober sophomores in. You take the Notre, I’ll take the Dame.
Here is what I remember: ‘Cheer, cheer for old Notre Dame. “The lyrics are a parody of the Notre Dame fight song. Writes Meadow Mama (echoed by Walt of Wayzata): “I think I can release The Cab Driver from his earworm.
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