One way or another.
Fans have naturally sprung to my mind for a number of reasons:
b. Social media has been giving me absolute fits the last several weeks.
Oh, you don't understand "b.", you say. Aside from there being nothing more social than a bunch of broads playing mah jongg in a pool, you will have to take your lack of understanding up with evil boy genius Mark Zuckerberg.
Wait! Not that Mark Zuckerberg.
Because, quite frankly, I don't understand Facebook, either.
Well, now you're just being silly.
On second thought, there's a reason why the social media giant's logo is a big, blue "F."
Was toodling along pretty well with my plain old "profile," oblivious to the fact that I was about to crash, kind of like a Model T in a tailspin at Indy.
Or wherever those Nascar folks go.
And then it was strongly urged upon me that I should have a PAGE. A fan page. You know. For fans.
Several things passed through my mind:
(Now that's what I'm talking about!) and other men in tights;
c. Identical cousin Cathy Lane's hairdo on the old Patty Duke Show;
(You know, "While Cathy adores a minuet [seriously?], the Ballet Russe and crepe suzette,
our Patty loves to rock 'n' roll, a hot dog makes her lose control, what a wild duet.") [What? No 'Nick at Nite' in your house?];