If Cindy can't, Barbie can.

Forgive me, that was far too bold. Hope I'm not too unpop'lar.

I've taken up breeding chickens. It's not working very well though; the cock fosters no feelings for any of the hens.

Bloody hell! Both my neighbours have let the maintenance on their vehicles go for too long, and now every morning I am awakened by the sound of badly adjusted rockers rattling like the Coyote's teeth after a dinner of Acme Earthquake Pills™. My street should be called the Cam Din Road if you ask me.

There's a big rock in the middle of my vegetable patch. I can't lift it and I hoe round it. I told my friend and he said "You can't hoe 'round? So, hoe square" Frankly I could've killed him for that.

The lower half of my leg has gone to sleep. Wake up, knee!

Kim] I find a good slap with a rolled-up copy of last month's What Ford? magazine generally cures any pins and needles.

I'm just a sucker for "easy listening" music, such as the Tijuana Brass with Herb Alpert on trumpet.