When I lived in Seattle I used to drink at a veterans bar (on Sundays). Whenever the Reba McEntire show came on the old gents would stand up and begin whistling and howling.
Regardless of the fact that she looks a little like my aunt, and not exactly knowing who she was, I began joining in the celebrations. One of the old croonies (and I mean old) said "Give the boy a cap. He obviously knows a good woman when he sees one." From that day onwards, the veterans bar was my tavern of choice.
P.S. A year ago I recieved note that the old crooner bought the farm.
R.I.P. Henry B.
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I hit her with the hammer on top of the head. She made a lot of noise and kept on making noise, so I hit her again.
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