I'm pretty keen on TV Land's 48 hour marathon of "Leave it to Beaver" episodes. It was better than a lot of the crummy stuff on television this weekend. I don't look at the television much on my days off, but gosh-I couldn't help it. I wish I had a friend named "Whitey." Hell, I wish I had a friend named "Beaver." The following is a trascript of some LitB out takes:
"Hey Wally, I don't think Dad would be too keen on account that you're playing with his revolver and all..."
"Aw, c'mon Beav... It's not like it's loaded or anything."
"Hey Wally, I heard Mom and Dad talkin' last night and stuff... what's a reacharound?"
"Beaver, where do you think you're going?"
"Aw Mom, I'm gonna go over to Eddie Haskell's and play touch football in the back of his Pop's van... oops, I wasn't supposed to say nothin'"
Speaking of personal violation, my column that I posted (the Band Publicity one) is missing the last part of the first paragraph. I was doing housework before I started writing and I guess I got disoriented. Or something.
No comments:
Post a Comment