Last week, I was drinking Irish Mist and playing whist with Bill Frist. And he had his shorts in a twist.
What was on his mind? Here’s the gist:
Said Frist, “I miss Imus.”
Continued Frist, “Sure, Imus was remiss, laying down a gratuitous dis. A lotta people were pissed. Said it was heinous.
“But in spite of all this, I miss Imus.
“It’s not like Imus said ‘penis.’ Something like that’d never come between us.
“But he said ‘nappy’ and got the Bitch-Slappy, Pappy. Now, are you happy? Me, I think it’s crappy.
“What’s next? Will they burn Stern?”
What was on his mind? Here’s the gist:
Said Frist, “I miss Imus.”
Continued Frist, “Sure, Imus was remiss, laying down a gratuitous dis. A lotta people were pissed. Said it was heinous.
“But in spite of all this, I miss Imus.
“It’s not like Imus said ‘penis.’ Something like that’d never come between us.
“But he said ‘nappy’ and got the Bitch-Slappy, Pappy. Now, are you happy? Me, I think it’s crappy.
“What’s next? Will they burn Stern?”
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