It was raining this morning at 7th and Montana ... and you know what that means: "Noah," the local ne'er-do-well with a taste for all things nautical, made the scene, intent on riding out the flood. He weighed anchor by the curb on 7th Street, venturing inside only long enough to wring out his beard. "I think I smell an Ararat," said one witness. "Not to worry," I replied, "His ark is worse than his bite ...!"
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3 comments:
At least it was not the perfect storm.
He needs to meet up with the Gordons clam chowder man that wears the sow western hat
johnny g was here
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