Mike Durrett: CONFIDENTIAL

Mikellaneous

My Recent Confessions and Observations on Twitter, Where Everything Must Be Said in 140 Characters or Less

27 years of marriage is a sacrifice. All this chewing with my mouth closed takes its toll.

Just in: "Son attacks mom with sausage." Shocking! I can't imagine. OK, once I threatened Mom with a pudding. Took her Nilla Wafers hostage.

I don't much care for my blood pressure doctor at The Temple of Doom and Clinic. He reaches into my chest and pushes on my heart. Annoying.

I had a fine check-up. The doctor said, "Good boy!" & scratched me behind the ears. And my new flea collar has no bell! Woof! Where's Timmy?

The International House of Pancakes is building in our tiny Georgia town. That means flapjacks from faraway lands! Like Alabama and Memphis!

I have discovered the secret to eternal youth. I sleep in a big Debbie Meyer Green Bag.

Somewhere. Somewhere in the world at this very moment, George Clooney's head is a-bobbing. It's what he does. He is The Human Bobblehead.

Don't know why, but I'm not big on summer soups. Today, I'm having the Seersucker Zucchini with the Spray Tan Fusilli & Baby Pool Navy Bean.

I'm off to see WALL-E. This boy is built rugged for enchantment.

My hand puppets are going, too. Hush now, Danny and Glover.

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