Last night all the animal spirits fought in my belly
I offered them whiskey but they paid no mind
the champagne was a light rain - a drizzle
Zombie Dick Clark scared the hell out of me.
But then he made me intensely happy.
“You don’t get to see old people falling apart on TV often.” smiled a little mouse, who was eating a miniature wheel of cheese.
But they played it all wrong.
Dick should have had on a hooded cloak, a staff, and perhaps some robotic implants.
This way his unintelligible stroke mumbling would be mistaken for a esoteric spells.
Then they could have had him walk out on a high balcony overlooking Times Square and lift his staff.
Lightening, Fireworks, & Fire
Then DICK makes the ball drop and he precedes to kill Daughtry, J-Lo, Seacreast, and duel to the death with Skeletor, AKA Marc Anthony. Mene Gene Okerlund coulda broke in and announced the battle on live TV. BEST NEW YEAR EVER!
Thats the thing I hate about TV, no imagination. No flair for the dramatic.
