It’s My Tea Party and I’ll Cry If I Want To

Some things cannot be allowed to remain unchallenged. They are such an affront to sense -common or otherwise – that reasonable human beings everywhere will feel compelled to storm their local shopping centre in search of a six-pack of gauntlets so that these may be thrown down to the floor with a vigour and passion usually reserved for warfare. I, for one, am presently writing with gauntlet clasped firmly in hand which, whilst seriously impeding my ability to type, will give you a fair indication of how hopelessly outraged I am. My only wish is that I will shortly catch the eye of my antagonist so that the gauntlet tossing may commence in earnest.

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Absence Makes the Heart Grow Jane Fonda

Once they were ubiquitous as kettles and televisions. Every house on every block had a collection of workout videotapes featuring either Jane Fonda or Richard Simmons. Together, they taught us to lunge, flex and stretch as we had never done before. But if forced to choose between the two, there’s really no contest to speak of. As Hollywood royalty, Fonda could easily turn a dollar doing just about anything. Indeed, anyone who has seen Monster In Law will agree to as much. Richard Simmons on the other hand, bore an eerie resemblance to Leo Sayer and often wore a facial expression that suggested he’d just strapped on a pair of ice-cube trousers. If it came to a contest, there’s no doubt in my mind that I’d choose Jane over Richard any day of the week.
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Everything You Wanted to Know About Being a Miserable Twerp

Some things are hard to measure. No matter how powerful or profound they are, in many regards they cannot be gauged and cannot be captured. Into this category, I’d place things like love and hate. Sensitivity, however, is a notable exception. Sensitivity can be measured not in metres, miles or in litres but by the songs of Simon and Garfunkel. The greater the number of songs in your possession, the more sensitive a soul you clearly are. In fact, extreme sensitivity is evident where the Garfunkel quotient is skewed to an especially high level. Put simply, anyone who owns a copy of ‘Bright Eyes’ is unlikely to be able to withstand direct sunlight.

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