Whoa to the hey to the now, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

Or something like that
Happy Cinco De Mayo. Cinco De Mayo is Spanish for Miley Cyrus Get Dressed.

Bawa?
Barbara Walters has come out with a rather racy autobiography. Barbara was a wild woman. It turns out Barbawa was somewhat of a twollop.

Mon Dieu
Do you know what happened on this date in 1862? The Mexican army defeated the French in the battle of Puebla marking Cinco De Mayo; reportedly the French retreated in terror when they were frightened by the sound of Margarita blenders firing up.

That’s sweet
17-year-old Jamie Lynn Spears had a baby shower; her sister Britney gave her a nice trailer warming gift.

We kid my Cubbies
Do you know who said; “The sports page records people’s accomplishments; the front page has nothing but man’s failures.” It was chief justice Earl Warren who was clearly not a Cubs fan.

Record breaking
On “Oprah” David Blaine set the world record for holding his breath, just over 17 minutes. That’s the longest anyone’s brain has gone without oxygen since President Bush got his head stuck trying to look inside the castle of his fish tank.

Since you asked:

Why so hard on PETA? PETA is proof that meaning well and causing harm are not mutually exclusive. By focusing so much press and publicity on stupid causes, like stopping the harvesting of bees for honey, it results in the public losing credibility for serious animal rights problems. In short, by using no common sense, PETA takes sympathy and weight away from the animals that need help.

My experience with an actual PETA member.
Before we got our second Labrador, Wrigley, it bothered me when Kasey had to go long stretches alone, so whenever I had the chance, I took her with me. Plus she loves driving in the car. One time I took her to a burger place that caters to the truly annoying and bored a-holes and their lawless wild spawn who live in this area. I won’t mention the name of the dump but it rhymes with Dead Knobbin’

So I tied Kasey’s leash to the bike rack so she was in the shade and got her a bowl of water so she could lie down and enjoy the attention of the people entering or leaving who wanted to pet a cute little worried, sweet, bear-faced dog.

As I was eating my burger at the bar, a loud and shrill voice yelled from the lobby;

“Who the hell does that dog belong to?”

Thinking that the person was worried that the dog had been abondoned there, I said;

“Don’t worry, the dog is mine.”

The woman, straight out of middle-aged-crone-New-Ywahck-accented shrew central casting (think Joan Rivers minus the sense of humor) started screaming and literally waving her long bony Wicked Witch finger at me;

“You are abusing that dog, you should be ashamed.”

“What are you talking about, lady?”

“The poor thing is left all alone outside tied to a damn rack.”

As this was certain the woman was crazy, I tried to reason with her;

“Would you rather I left her lonely and alone in our backyard where nobody can pet her?”

“Don’t get smart with me, Mister," she hissed furiously, " I am a member of PETA so I know what I am talking about when it comes to animal abuse.”

With that I smiled a knowing smile, chuckled and then said;

“Oh, PETA? Why didn’t you say so? See, before I didn't know you were a psycho nut- job b*tch with far too much time on her lazy and snotty hands.”

Then I offered the PETA member a bite of my hamburger, but for some reason, she turned it down. I don’t think she liked me.

My friends call it: Alex Out Making Friends.