Oddly Enough Blog

First pic looks only as if time had stood still, whereas the next two guys… well, let’s just say they could fit very well in one of those teenage movies on goofy nerds.

Nevertheless, I am not surprised Goofy er- Woody Harrelson manages to look appropriately out of fashion every time there’s a camera around!

Isn’t that center photo Tom Brady? If I were he, I wouldn’t admit it either. As for Woody, if there were a fifth stooge, THAT would be the look! (Fourth would be complete baldness on top with the rest of the hair grown loooonnngg.)

And yet not one of those hats are white. Hmmmm is there an anti-white-hat conspiracy now?

E.

I bet I can guess which one of them is actually dead…

I dunno M, I think it happened this way:

Woody: “What’s with the white hats?”

Jacques: “I believe eet iz a conspiracy Woody.”

Woody: “How do we get in on it?”

Model: “Oooh pretty clouds!”

Jacques: “I do not believe zey would let us een, I haf already tried.”

Woody: “Fine then, we’ll start our on conspiracy! Black hats it is!”

Model: “Ooooh look at the pretty flower!”

E.

Gwai is absolutely right. I DO look hot in my fedora! In my office with the sunlight shining through my Venetian blinds and reflecting off of my bourbon bottle and shining through the “Private Eye” on my door. I get a lot of baffling caes, you know.

But, the time I tried out for a spot in the Goofy Face Museum and wore an Indiana Jones hat, I could hear people laughing for blocks around.

Even D.B. Cooper (my roomy) laughed at me. Moses and Elvis (next door) did too. And they think D.B. is a fake. They think that D.B. wouldn’t still be wearing a parachute after all these years, especially since it is one of those parachutes where you can’t use your arms.

Hey, there’s knock on my door. It’s a client dressed like a nurse. I

THERE WILL BE NO MORE “DOCTOR DOLL” TODAY!

Dr Doll; I was almost convinced, but you referred to sunlight, and everyone knows it’s always drizzling with rain in proper private eye stories.

Tim; does a Seville Row suite come with free marmalade ?

I got given a black fedora with silver and pink stripes for Christmas. Should I take this as an insult?

(This is not a joke.)

Well, LMR… I would just say that miners from Mt. Isa are not exactly “in” when it comes to fashion advise, so probably just be understanding and patient. Or else, you could call upon Don Timmy and request his assistance?? Perhaps not.

And, Don Timmy, one small question: do you wear a large rubi in your pinky? Don’t forget that, and the white scarf.

Dr. Doll, I am with you on this. Mrs. Chandler, McDonald, Hammett are just amateurs and aspiring writers when compared to Calvin and Hobbes. Have you thought about writing on them for your dissertation? I think their piece on Jack and Jane and academia is ‘seminal’ enough, according to present day standards, to afford such an in-depth research.

OK, meddie time for me again.

The guy in the middle is wearing a hat that looks suspiciously like the one Inspector Gadget wore in the movie of the same name. I wonder…

CrowGirl, that means he was a drill instructor. In other words, he’s no stranger to stupid hats.

Thanks, Unca. Certainly meant no disrespect, and I know you guys have your traditions.

I went through U.S. Army Basic Training at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri, and while I’m sure it was a day at the beach compared with Parris Island – I took my advance training at a DOD school with folks from all branches, and I couldn’t match the Marines in horror stories – I still formed my own lasting opinions of our DIs and their hats.

Unca… did Bob hurt your feelings? Want me to zap him??

I probably shouldn’t have shared my DI stories with you, Bob. I think he may look you up and try to find me. He was the only man who could, and did, terrify me into hiding peanut M&Ms in a dirty sock.

If, in the middle of the night, someone shines a flshlight into your face and demands to know my whereabouts, it’s okay to tell him. But please give me advance notice, so I can fake my own death, change identity, and flee the country to spend my days in Antartica. Or at least triple lock my door and hide under the bed.

Dear Madam or Sir:

I am writing about one of our patients, who corresponded with you this morning on this “blog.” He calls himself “Dr. Doll.” Dr. Doll is missing.

After writing on your blog this morning, Dr. Doll told his roommate that he had received a telephone call from you on his “telephone,” which is actually Fischer-Price.

Shortly thereafter, Dr. Doll was seen at a nearby sporting-goods store trying to purchase an artic parka with Monopoly money. He then purchased a bag of peanut M&Ms, went outside, and then returned to the service counter complaining that the M&Ms were “defective,” since half of them had “W” on them instead of “M”.

Do you have any idea where we can locate “Dr. Doll”? This is urgent.

Bob,

I knew I could count on you. It is now obvious to all, that I sometimes conjure little narratives to amuse myself. Back in my days as a university professor, before I was reincarnated as an attorney, I would amuse my students with little narratives and stories in class. They always knew I was good for at least one per class.

The name “Dr. Doll” was born when I was representing a client in an administrative hearing, and the hearing officer referred to me as “Doll” and after the hearing as “Dr. Doll.” One of my assistants then teased me mercilessly for weeks by calling me “Dr. Doll.” (True story.) That transcends even my fictional narratives.

So, Doc… did you ever ask that hearing officer what made him call you “Doll”?

You know M… I really wonder if Nurse comes when you call her…