Thursday, July 05, 2007

THAT OL' RIVER OF BLOOD IN C-A-L-I

Ms. Wray called every hour on the hour. When I finally answered, she said:

 "Bring your tonsils; we're playing hockey tonight."

At her bungalow, two costumes were laid out on the contemporary shag.

  "Do you prefer early Cher or fat Cher?," she asked.

The heat was incredible. Was it over 90 degrees? Over 100? I asked myself:

 "What has gone on in this room?!"

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