It was a thrilling game, that's for sure, as long as you weren't looking for defensive plays (the best one was saved for last), but the ESPN commentators got a few things wrong about Memphis. Twice they told viewers that the injured UC quarterback had been taken to the University of Memphis Hospital. Hmmm. And one of the announcers, was it Jesse Palmer?, following a break that mentioned the school's early days, wondered about the original name (West Tennessee State Normal School — "normal" being a name back then for a teacher's college), and asked, "Was it because the school is located on Normal Street?" Yes, Jesse, that's it.
"Lack of cooperation of key witnesses?" I guess they're referring to all the poor dogs and cats who died there.
Lee Busby was the Will Rogers of Memphis: He never met a man he didn't like. A friendly guy who treated customers like old friends. You could go in his tiny establishment only once every couple of years, and he would still remember your name, and often what you liked to eat there. Mighty good food, too, cooked up in a space you could barely turn around in. Front Street Deli was one of those homey little places that people really won't miss until it's gone, and now we'll miss it a lot. It depresses the hell out of me to see that front door locked and the wreath in the window. Godspeed, Lee.
Does the "quite extensive" menu include Baloney Boats, perchance?
What the Cutter and Off! couldn't accomplish ... the killer ice storm did. Sayonara, pesky mosquitos! (Seriously, Bruce, in what tropical area of Memphis do you live that you have to deal with bugs in ... January??)
There's no easy answer here. But the other part of this conversation that amazes me is the frequent comment that "the only dangerous thing about so-called 'assault' rifles is the way they look" and "they are no different from other rifles."
Well, back in the old days when I used to hunt (it's true), if I remember correctly my Remington bolt-action .30-06 only held five rounds, and you had to manually chamber each round. Reloading meant pushing cartridges one at a time down into the spring-loaded box magazine built into the rifle.
An assault rifle — or choose a friendlier term if you like — can hold magazines of 15 and 30 rounds, and drum magazines of 100. Changing out magazines takes about two seconds. And no, they are not fully automatic, but "semi-automatic" still means they fire with every pull of a trigger, so with a fully loaded drum, you can squeeze off 100 rounds in about a minute. Considerably more firepower than my old Remington bolt-action. And not a chance in hell of jumping the bad guy while he reloads.
And we keep whining about how sad it would be, taking away hunting rifles from legitimate hunters. I guess I'm out of the loop on this, but I don't know any true "sportsman" that blasts away with 30 shots at a deer. Not very sporting, is it? If you're that bad a shot, maybe you need to get your meat from Kroger.
I just want to ask: Who is this mysterious "hostess" who supposedly produces all these "snack classics"? Is she from the same secret baking sorority as Betty Crocker, or the daughter of Mrs. Butterworth? Did she spawn the devil-child Gerber baby?
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