Dog Years....

Dog Years...

You know that thing, where you say "I'm 217, in dog years," or some such junk where 1 people year equals 7 in dog years?

If you say that, and that person responds with "well, that's not techically true, as dogs' life cycles are different from a human's," I think you should be allowed to lay a clubberin' on them.

I'm 31 today.

And if I've learned anything in my 31 years, it's that you need four fisteses for a clubberin'.

God Bless Dusty Rhodes. I look at America today, and I wonder if the American Dream truly wasn't to be a 300 pound, bleach-blond white guy dressed in polka dots. I'm beginning to think that between Vince and Dusty, there was a bit of precognition going on there. I'm thinking big yellow polka dots are the next big fashion trend.

Mark my words, people. You'll be seeing Polka Dots all over the Oscars.

And if you don't, why not paint them on your TeeVee, just to make me, Vince McMahon and the American Dream Dusty Rhodes feel good about it.

Do it for Dusty.

This is neither here nor there, but I have known 3 girls named Dusty in my life, as wel as 2 guys with that name. 3 guys, if you count Dusty Rhodes. 4 girls, I guess, because if you count Dusty Rhodes, whom I don't know personally, you'd have to count Dusty Springfield.

But then, I'm not really sure I could pick Dusty Springfield out of a lineup, if you put a gun to my head.

Please don't do that. I'd hate that to be the way I died. I'm going to check wikipedia before I go to bed, just in case.

Anyway. 3 girls named Dusty. All of them? Pretty hot.

The guys? Fugly. Fugly as homemade sin. In fact, I'm almost sure that one of them was part Doberman.

Dusty Rhodes does little to turn the tide in that argument. In fact, he's kinda what you'd call "exemplary" as it pertains my previous statement.

Anyway. It's my birthday. I'm sleeping in. Y'all have a good day...