CorpsVets have all the Luck, Ladies, in the Copa

I enjoyed this past weekend's visit to Rockmart so much (Hmm, never saw one rock for sale.), that I just had to put pucker piece to lips attached to my sop and join the Rat Pack hoedown for the weekend. Hunter Moss, Bill Wear, Jerald Sheets, et al. -- Dey be da' men! Those guys can wail Mexican cutie tattoos right off a Navy vet.
Leif Marwede and Vic Kulinski, Jr., have enough battery to give Biggg Ken, contra, a run at a tug-of-war championship. Bigggg Ken is so Bunyanesque that he makes even some of the Mad Plaid DeKalb tug-of-war champs look puny. I tried extra hard in stretching for fear Biggggg Ken might squuush me like a lightning bug.
The drill bots complained about the nip while learning their revamped drill. (Sound familiar?) You rebel marchers should try doing spring drill in Racine, Rochester, Hurc country, Minnenippliesota, or in those "severe winters" on Treasure Island???
The Rat Pack will be proud and Feelin' Good. Carmine Miranda would enjoy the revue. Drinks are on the house at the Copa. Pull the handle on this CorpsVets show. One might just spin out 7 - 7 - 7 ... or end up in a Colgan tomb, broke.
CV brought in the heavy artillery: DM supreme David Bruni smiled in to lend a hand.
Put da' lime in da' coconut and shake it all up.

Spirit rollin' like Ol' Man River

The first weekend of March, I popped in on Spirit at Jax St. U. in the Coosa Holler of 'Bama. I was welcomed and liked the package I saw. Jim Ott would be proud of the '06 Spirit. Go out to see how this Div. I powerhouse will stir their Black Magic this summer!

Fractal geometry roll-stepping in De Kalb cornfiedlers

It is weirder than fireflies flickering at noon, more memorable than a night in a Tunisian bandshell. This Pooh-Bah was sent to investigate a sighting of fractal geometry patterns tromped into Illinois cornfiedlers. I found no Pooh B'ar, not even a phantom phart. Upon arrival, while tossing in 80 cents...80 cents...80 cents, I spotted a man in a Greek cap wandering aimlessly in a pit. Not as handsome as El Guapo, nor as luscious as gals from BD '93, but he offered me a Tootsie Roll. What could I do but tune in? It coulda been some allan dynasty, but I kanstul respect the king. While waiting for him to fran hardily his tale, he got sleepy and yamahaed. He told me the big kids had stuffed their marbles into a BBb tuba case and Lombarded away to Kalamazooie, not via Joliet.
I asked what he planned to do in the off-season of harvesting? "Can youse or 'Canos?" Like a Roman centurion, Greek Capt. pioneered this Irish jig, "I'll Sue...Well, maybe just be a bit Murrayed." He seemed so livid he could see plaid. I vickered he'd 6 to 5, at least by 8 to 5 on the Mad Hatter's pocket watch, his complaint to the govs orwoll to some big rerereretaining Wall, maybe even spit off some husky stadium, but he got lost climbing a rickety ladder and cavalierly looking for indigo stars.
Lothar of the Hill People woulda seymoured a way out of it. Holy Toledo in a Chattachoochoo! C 1-1/2 gruppies follow this all the way Bach. It's right off the Roetzer Scale like a dubba C on a power tower with a 6A4a bill chaser. Now, that's terra firma, passing wind and singeing marshmallows.
In aught seven, don't just scout "7" and the Marines. Racine the heavy artillery: Crunched amFabians?...froglegs, and fly in the Blousemen. Mac everyone wear anti-marching trousers and play delong way. We should all be obbligatoed to DA brass cajones. Then, we'd see some gaines. Kinda blue and bushed. Too tired to buc. Slingpost some blogs. Syneing off to Grub Street.