Eff's Rambles (Archive)


Oh, do I now? Well, I should try my pun act on you.

And do you often wish you had been Freud's assistant?

(ty, I'll try it later.)

Irish setter. I'm not sure which species I prefer. Russian Blues are nice.

Here's a tip: don't watch sitcoms.

I believe I still have that birthday song you and your son sang for me. (Sorry I forgot to wish your son a happy birthday, I am not good with dates. What's his name?)

It works for me. Enter Trigger Street into Google.

Shiny happy beautiful people.

Would you like a Tony?

No comment.

What? The operation? Nice evening with open heart surgery and fava beans.

A classic film! And, don't worry I believe you, really.

Send in your resume to the Food Network.

So being disturbing runs in the family? I guess exposure to the west coast and the northern states will do that. Tip: Avoid San Francisco.

Your 'ghetti? And that would be the mafia of pasta.

"Witches?" Dahl must have agonized over that title.

Your boyfriend must have been ecstatic.


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