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Musing With Mitch
by Mitchell Kobriger
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You used to be able to tell good store-bought Italian by the number of times they said "Mamma mia!" in the commercial. Now it's pretty much a crap-shoot.
Canada would be a much better place if they just learned to talk like us.
Nothing makes me sadder than the declining sales in children's tap shoes.
I remember a time when pinching a waitress' bottom was the tip.
Nothing I own or eat needs any "jazzing up," thank you very much.
Know what I like best about wide receivers? It's the way they can catch the ball with a guy chasing them down like that.
In the future I envision, everyone will drive firetrucks. Except the girls.
I'm so glad the Japanese haven't been able to improve on our design for the clothes hanger.
I bet the ancient Egyptians would have loved the music of Al Green.
If you ask *my* opinion, I'll tell you every time: Rhode Island just plain doesn't exist.
They used to say I was hung like a bull, but it didn't mean what you might think.
Idea! Someone should sell bookshelves that come already stocked with books. Think of the time and money you'd save!
First, it was the cicadas, now it's hurricanes. Can a Streisand tour be far behind?
Mitch's taste in music runs more toward Celine Dion -- that skinny little Canuck is one fine chanteuse.
Nothing perks up an omelet like a nice stick of butter.
The day I need a machine to dry my lettuce is the day I've completely given up, my friends.
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