MC – I know you know it, but judging from a couple of lovely emails I’ve received, I must put this to rest. I am not that JWebb! Although I never, ever said otherwise, I did little to disabuse others of the notion – my apologies.
Damn you, Judd Nelson! I know that I’m carrying Jimmy’s love child! His promises couldn’t have been empty – I just know it. Please Jimmy, please tell me it isn’t so!
Jimmy – If this is true – I’m hauling you before the Judiciary Committee. I mean when I wrote you that nice email and you said you just wanted to sit down for coffee and that you might write a little ditty for me … I, just, trusted you. How could I know that it would turn into a chapter in my new book? And, if you are Judd Nelson instead? Oh, it just makes me want to hork up those nice Strawberry Fields you gave me…
Wow. From the forest to the remainder bin without stopping.
What a waste of trees.
OMG! I never know what to believe is parody with yall or what is real.
But, there is a lesson here.
Be very careful who you have KAH-RAZY sex with….
In the clearing stands a Boxer, and a fighter by her trade
And she carries the reminders of every glove that laid her down or cut her
’til she cried out in her anger and her shame
I am heaving, I’m deceiving, but the fighter still remains
So, ya know, she thought she’d write a novel about Senator sandwiches.
You forgot the most appropriate part, Webb – the chorus:
”Lie-la-lie …”
With all that talk about razor-sharp nipples, I thought maybe Jeff had written it.
Tomorrow’s headline:
MC – I know you know it, but judging from a couple of lovely emails I’ve received, I must put this to rest. I am not that JWebb! Although I never, ever said otherwise, I did little to disabuse others of the notion – my apologies.
Dum-da-dum-dum – Just the facts, ma’am – JWebb.
Damn you, Judd Nelson!
Damn you, Judd Nelson! I know that I’m carrying Jimmy’s love child! His promises couldn’t have been empty – I just know it. Please Jimmy, please tell me it isn’t so!
Dammit, Webb, I feel so … used. All this time I thought we had our very own Sgt. Friday here at PW. Now I find out that ‘ol Jack died in ‘82.
No, don’t bother apologizing, I’m inconsolable.
Unless you were referring to not being Jimmy Webb, the songwriter – which would make more sense, I guess.
Or perhaps you’re not James Webb, the author.
My God, man, just how many identities don’t you have ?
Jimmy – If this is true – I’m hauling you before the Judiciary Committee. I mean when I wrote you that nice email and you said you just wanted to sit down for coffee and that you might write a little ditty for me … I, just, trusted you. How could I know that it would turn into a chapter in my new book? And, if you are Judd Nelson instead? Oh, it just makes me want to hork up those nice Strawberry Fields you gave me…
JW, is that cake still out in the rain?
Aaaaarrrgh!
I still love you JWebb.
Even if we can’t have a love child.
Is the Wichita lineman still on the line?
Judd? This is a job for Stanley Caldwell.