Frog Applause by Teresa Burritt for March 26, 2012

he’s safe until the wind blows…

Protect my combover? Can’t, I’ve gone to holding it hostage.

Give the dude a hat and his combover will be well-protected!

So, you think that because those dik diks are cute, they’ll stop us from blowing past them and mussing your combover?!Sucker!Mbawhaha hahaw!

There’s nothing more glorious than a comb-over in full sail against a smooth wind abeam, a spinnaker smartly lifting the prow.

Not until I have my lucky shoehorn.

So … FA didn’t post yesterday?

Rita Hayworth had to have her forehead waxed and a regular schedule due to a VERY low hair line.-No … it’s true. Being beautiful isn’t for sissies.

Captain: Load up those dik diks.First mate: Aye aye captain.Captain: You making fun of me?First mate: No, no.

Hmmm. Something I’ve long suspected – comb-overs are for those with insecurities.

…i bathe my dik-dik every morning…

Rita didn’t have to walk a mile for a Camel.

I won’t feel safe until I pull my protective membrane over my bowling ball bag. At least until thursday, anyway.

I think that your dik dik needs a tic tac.

So I used Google maps and street view to check out George Buck’s address to see if there was a church there today. Nope. Parking lot. Heaven may be assured, but things here on Earth certainly aren’t.

Can two hairs be considered a combover?

Better be careful or we’ll have to bail your dik, dik out again. BTW you should be feeding him Oscar Meyer wieners.

That photo of the Civil War soldier on the blog was taken a few seconds before one of the pistols went off by accident, thereby converting him to a soprano.

All this talk about dik-diks is making me uncomfortable. Can’t we talk about kitties instead?

Turkish: This 15-year-old young lady, size 1.5 and 85 lbs, is worrying about being too fat, about having wavy hair, and about the scars acne is leaving on her face. So much to worry about! Then there’s a bit about addiction to sunflowers – or something – and “two packs a day should finish it.” Turkish is a wild language.

I once crossed a dik-dik with a crested lark. What I got was a dik-lark, which was the life of the party on New Year’s Eve.