If my bologna had a first name, I expect it might be “Arthur”, or “James”. Oscar is OK, but hardly my first choice.

I’ve never, ever gotten “steaming mad at dirt”. Although I did once get pretty upset about a cassette deck that wouldn’t work, so I tried to massage it awhile with a hammer. Boisterously. It had to be replaced.

“Got Milk”? Bologna!! How about “Got Chocolate”? Now THERE’S a campaign I could get behind!

I often find myself wondering “where’s the beef” when I’m eating tofu turkey. I know, it’s not even the right species, but come on, tofu??

I understand mustard has gotten considerably older over the years. Is that why they call it “grey” Poupon??

(I fear this post may have peaked back at “my bologna has a first name…” However, I forge ahead – “Just Do It”, as they used to say. Even if “it” might be better left alone…)

One of the best massage therapists I ever had was named Allstate. I was in pretty good hands with him… Although Wanda used to do a pretty good job as well.

Carrots – they don’t melt in your mouth, nor in your hands.

A diamond is forever? How about dinner time telemarketers???

I wonder if Billy the Kid used to think that there were some things that money just couldn’t buy. So for everything else, there were sixguns?

(Now I’m POSITIVE that I peaked this post back at the start. Must find a graceful exit…)

Q - What did the crowd at the finish line tell the first infant that completed a long-distance marathon?
A – “You’ve come a long way, baby”!!

Chow for now!!