I guess I must confess: I have been known at times to eat pizza with a knife and fork, particularly when it was fresh from the oven and I didn’t want third-degree burns on my mouth.
People interested in adopting an animal from the Forrest City Animal Shelter have sometimes had problems finding someone there who can help them, but all of that is about to change.
I guess a lot of folks will be moving to Colorado now, where they can get high legally. I hope you know whereof I speak.
Okay, most of us survived Christmas, and except for a hangover here and there, New Year’s Eve and Jan. 1 didn’t take too great a toll.
Well, here it is, my most favorite day of the year. This is the one day when the majority of people are just as Scroogy as I am the rest of the time.
This is my last column before Christmas, and I figure there may be some folks out there still wondering if I really am a Scrooge.
Last week, I mentioned some things that have not changed since I retired.
Some folks may wonder if my point of view on certain subjects has changed since I retired, or semi-retired, or whatever the heck it is that I am.
On November 22, 1963 – and looking back, I can admit it now – I was a rather naive, immature, somewhat sheltered 19-year-old freshman at Union University in Jackson, Tenn.
Anyone who knows me or who has read my column knows that I am not exactly Mr. Fixit.