You Knew it Would Come to this Eventually
So I'm going to try the "John Buccigross approach" to this writing about hockey thing and try a mailbag. You know how this goes. You ask me something. I answer as best I can. It's a nice give and take. Hopefully we all get to have some fun.
Ask me anything. Seriously. It doesn't even have to be a question. It can be a statement or a really long run-on sentence. Or we could play the question game. You know, we each keep asking the other questions until someone gives up or has a brain cramp. Or maybe share your best "your mom" joke. Let the creativity flow.
We'll see how this goes. I imagine it might end up somewhere between a complete train wreck and utter chaos. Hopefully the earth will survive.
melroserocks[-at-]gmail[d0t]com is the addy. Minus all the weird brackets and things. Damned spam bots.
One rule; no song lyrics. Sorry, John. It's not you, it's me. If you have any questions about music, please direct them to the Phoenix Coyotes.
Are we supposed to email the questions or leave them here as comments? I just sent out an email and then I thought I should clear this up (sorry)
ReplyDeleteoh yeah--Dear Kevin, how do you type with boxing gloves on?
ReplyDelete--Loser Domi
doesnt matter really. I got your email, I'm just horribly busy and also horrible at replying in a timely manner. sorry =(
ReplyDeleteno worries--I know that feeling. I was asking for anyone else as well as myself.
ReplyDeleteand oh, by the way:
ReplyDeleteYour momma is so tiny she hanglides off of Doritos
Your momma so fat she jumped up in the air and got stuck