The
Mike
Durrett
Show
Today's Episode:
Nice Legs
Dateline: 02/23/98
Thank you and welcome to the show.
Before we get started, please call me Mike, or Mikey. I prefer the use of only my first name, not like some people around here.
I positively encourage the genteel protocol as much as the next fellow; but, alas, I fret Mr. Radio Controlled Vehicles Dot Guide @ Miningco Dot Com or Her Royal Highness, Our Lady of Panic and Anxiety Disorders Dot Guide @ Miningco Dot Com are appellations, a bit cumbersome.
I have also been trained to answer to Michael, Sweetheart, or Baby; however, I've been instructed not to give out internal Mining Company secrets, so I shall say no more.
And, might I add, my lovely spouse has an endearing pet name with which
she affectionately addresses me: "Down Boy Good Boy Ni-i-i-ice Boy Wanna
Biscuit Wanna Go Outside Buddy C'mon Let's Go Outside." I now see on this
page that this name is as long as those Dot Guide people's titles,
and we don't want that. Use "Mike," if you please.
It's been a slow, hard journey to become the new guy-- umm, Guide for
this department. A lot of tedious work and time went into the process by
all who pursued this position, and my hat's off to each one of them. Actually,
I don't wear a hat -- my skull's too big; however, my fat head can respect
the other applicants, and does.
I think the decision obviously came down to one determining factor. I looked stunning in the swimsuit competion.
Let's be honest. The judges adored my trendy and bold two-piece fashion statement.
That, and my entry in the talent portion of the contest, pretty much sewed up the scoring. The Mining Company judges will not soon forget my poignant, yet patriotic high-wire, flaming baton-twirling musical extravaganza (and complimentary spaghetti supper) entitled "Kill Yahoo!"
And I know, should I bring scorn on the Office of Guide, I must step down and let the Guide from the Sick Twisted Jokes mine come in and punch me silly, or show me his collection of Ate My Balls cybersites. To that I say, mercy. I beg for mercy. Please stomp my butt.
Additionally, allow me to remark, I look forward to doing some heavy duty mining, even though I realize I've gotten the shaft with all these other Guides and their sites. It's crowded down here.
Can't we all just get along? I do hope so. And I pledge -- no matter how actively my primal urges rage -- I pledge not to trick the Christian Humor Guide to say, "Take my Jesus. Please!"
At this time, I invite you to peek around the new Humor site and test the waters. I'll be right over here looking stunning in my swimsuit.
There should be something for everyone, provided you are Lester and Connie, my clones.
Otherwise, I think you could find suitable amusements. Remember to partake in moderation. Too much humor consumption at one sitting will result in sensory overkill. You will become mentally desensitized to the various material and won't reap its full joys.
You will best be served by making frequent short visits to these pages, rather than scarfing down big bites all at once. By doing so, you'll help keep me off the streets and indoors, pestering people in climate-controlled comfort.
If you have any questions or suggestions, please email me at the above address. When I go on break to feed my reindeer, I'll respond to your message, slurp some left-over s'ghetti, and return to these pages looking stunning in my swimsuit.
Awww, gee, it's time to go. And I was going to sing a song.
Good night, everybody!
About Your Guide: Mike Durrett lives with his wife, Donna, and two companions of the feline persuasion, Lindsay and the nutty Professor Kelp. They reside near Atlanta, Georgia, where Mike has worked for some of the finest desperate radio stations in that town.