Fridays With Freddy: Metaphorical Embodiment of Me
I might be quietly hoping the C.R.A.P. that bears my name might somehow fetch a respectable sum for the Foundation
I might be quietly hoping the C.R.A.P. that bears my name might somehow fetch a respectable sum for the Foundation
Yesterday afternoon, a man with Impossible Hair arrived at the apartment with a big camera.
So I sat down last night with The Biped to watch the idiot box and pass the time.
Fridays With Freddy: It’s come to my attention that today is National Mutt Day. It has further come to my attention that I am a Mutt. So far, no one has congratulated me.
Great result! Freddy’s cookies along with Mike’s sold on eBay for $575! Congratulations to the winner who will also receive a personalized Profoundly Disconnected Book and Somebody’s Gotta Do It tote!
The Biped’s been sitting in the same chair since Thursday with a glass tube stuck in his mouth and an an ice pack on his head.
Hey Freddy, are you okay? I didn’t see a post from you today. Hope your biped made it back to take care of you after his parachuting stint.
Just a few quick tips, if you find yourself relaxing on a mountain lake
Mike, I saw this photo online yesterday, and frankly, I’m disappointed
Marie Jennings writes, Hope you didn’t forget Fridays with Freddy.
“I always liked you Mike, b/c I thought you were a real guy. Then I saw commercials with fake parents
Honestly, I don’t get it. The Biped sits there and talks just like he always talks.
It was just a little orange pill, a “capsule-shaped tablet,” glazed with a delicious coating of slippery sugar.
Recently, while perusing the “magazine for men” in the Biped’s study, searching for content between a preponderance of cologne ads, I happened across a collection of canine related poetry. Though obviously more appropriate in a “magazine for dogs,” I nevertheless Read More …
“It was such a pleasure to meet you and Freddy this morning!