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The Blogger Wishes to Say a Word…Caaaaaaaaarrrrrrnnnneeeeeyyyyy!

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Carney is set to go under the knife early next week, which means he can stop wearing kilts and get off the morphine. I fear for the extremities of anyone wearing a kilt last night, because I have no idea if the pipes still work when the bags are frozen, but I digress.
Maybe surgery also means Carney will stop calling us and saying incoherent things like, “Every man dies, not every man really blogs,” or sending us financial links with the caveat, “Take this link, it will dull your pain.” Then we have to play along by responding, “No, it will numb my wits, and I must have them all to post items tomorrow. For if I’m senseless of if I wail, then commenters will break me,” or Carney won’t talk to us for the rest of the day.
Presumably all Carney has to do is kiss Elizabeth Spiers’ ring and he will receive “mercy,” and general anesthesia. Break a leg Good luck and here’s to a successful procedure and speedy recovery. Also, today is Carney's birthday, so aside from blowing out a very tiny candle on his next codeine, he has Ken Lay popping out of his birthday cake ('s a secret, and Kenny's been hiding in there for a while) to look forward to.