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Musing With Mitch
by Mitchell Kobriger
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Nothin' says barbecue season like Canadian beef on the grill and Iron Butterfly on the hi-fi.
In Mitch's perfect world, Reese Witherspoon would have been president instead of Franklin Roosevelt.
I'd use condoms a whole lot more often if they were fur-lined.
Maybe it's just me, but that Wolf Blitzer guy on the TV seems like he's up to no good.
Last night's chili cheese dog just won't stop issuing those all-points bulletins, if you know what I mean.
Keep the government out of my bedroom. Lord knows, it's unpleasant enough in there as it is.
Idea! They should give everyone a metal hook to grab that subway hand-strap with.
Things I respect: Good, honest political debate, Bob Vila, fresh-squeezed orange juice, my barber.
I keep telling myself I'm not going to look at my crap before I flush it, but heaven help me, I just can't avoid it.
So what was the verdict on that Teletubby? Straight or gay?
What do I want for Father's Day? I want you to shut your yap and leave ol' Mitch alone!
I don't know what the secret ingredient in RoundUp is, but in this house, athlete's foot is a thing of the past .
For my money, unless they've got paint and grease all over them, khaki pants are for girly-men.
Let's settle this now: The environment is plenty clean enough around here, Mr. Tree-Hugging Looney.
I've had my new Internet connection for a couple of weeks now. So, where's all this porn everyone's talking about?
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