They were up all night working on the new deck.
Gonna kill ’er with a tiller, eh?
Jack was a notorious tightwad, at least on stage, thus the joke.
A woman in a laundromat in New Jersey taught me that 50 years ago. My wife still thinks it’s weird that I can fold fitted sheets.
Anyone for a kidney stone?
Not a ringleader, nor a gang leader. She just had no patience with Great Danes getting in her way. The only Dane she was really buddies with was Toots, the one in the photo at the left.
Looks like a Dane puppy to me. That’s one of our Great Danes to the left. She was 140 pounds. At one point we had her, three other Danes, and a Plott Hound mix (foster), along with two cats. All were in our house and got along fine. One of the cats was in charge.
It’s called “cognitive dissonance”.