The Era -- Day By Day

[Fading Fast]

"how do those runs SCORE?" "Luck,"

Some bosses exist simply to exhaust you.

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Well, that's OK. Maybe you can catch on with Annie. I hear that dog is fussing about his contract again.

"You'd 'fuss' too if you were the main attraction and made a very reasonable request but they wouldn't change the name of the strip to "Sandy and that Curly Haired Kid."

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And only one of them will come out of the mountains alive....

Chaz has some good one-liners again today.

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Bix will make a fine partner in the firm...

There is no good outcome here.

 

[Harp]

The fence line for homicide unfortunately runs through adolescence as sixteen years old has seen reason
sufficiently so to be held heinous account. The James Post leniency tendered Judge Goldstein unfortunately
erred grievously though his sentiment obviously noble.

Coney Island apparently offers more than cotton candy.....

Mary Worth portends tragic culmination of the evening events and closure upon two individuals.....

And Terry tracks terrain paw prints like an 11 Bravo infantryman. Slits and Dragon Gal are a definite match.

Today's Stephen Foster has seen several scratches leaving an abbreviated five entrants. A decidedly slim
field; however, filled some of the finest thoroughbreds in the world. Favorite Sovereignty is vulnerable, and, I
believe Magnitude can best him. Magnitude; Sovereignty; White Abarro; Baeza fill reasoned superfecta.
Magnitude defeated Japan's Forever Young in the Dubai World Cup; consequently is the probable finest dirt track race horse on this planet. Some defensive stud poker tablestakes wagering with a split ticket or two may occur angle-dangle, but this is the essential play.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Yep," flexes Willie, basking in the first-afternoon-of-summer-vacation sunshine. "Monday me'n Pap'll be gett'n awna bus an' head'n up t' good ol' Camp Ching-Ach-G ook. Up inna mount'ns wit' t' good clean aieh." "Camp is f' babies," sniffs Leonora. "I got too much goin' awn 'eeh t' go. My Pa's buyin' a restr'ant, an' I gotta help out." "Ya pa's buyin' a doity ol' shack out by t' racetrack," sneers Lottie. "But I can't be bot'ehed t' tawk about it 'cause *I'm* goin' t' camp too!" "You ain' neiteh," scoffs Willie, kicking a bottle cap into 63rd Street. "I am an' I tol' my ma an' she said I'm goin'!" "T'at ain' what *I* hoid'eh say," smirks Leonora. "She hadda windeh open an' I hoid 'eh say..." "She on'y said t'at," snorts Lottie, "cause she knew you was lissenin'! B'sides, t'marra, my ma is takin' me t' Sergean' Solly's Soiplus an' I'm gonna get awla stuff I need f' camp." "You ain't goin' awla way t' Flatbush," dismisses Willie. "Shows what YOU know," retorts Lottie. "Sergean' Solly's got a whole new stoeh, right 'eeh on 18t' Aveneh down by Sevenny-Fois' Street! He tol' me he was gonna do it when we was havin'a quarantine, an' now he done it, an' it's t' Gran' Openin' t'marra, an' I'm goin' an' I can get anyt'ing I want! So T'EH!" Lottie spins on her heel and flounces away. Leonora reaches for a flattened tin can to scale in her wake, but Willie stays her hand. "Don' do t'at," he admonishes, pointing to the rusty, jagged edge. "You hit'eh, she might get lockjaw!: "T'at's t' ideeh," protests Leonora....)

("Yeh," sighs Rosa Capiello. "T'ey laid me awff. No meat t'sell, an'nat manageh says 'ey gotta cut back on help till t'ings toin aroun'. Five yeehs I been'eh. Five yeeh'sa my life t' H. C. Bohack. An' whatta'w'I get? Laid awff wit' no notice. Y'know whatt'at's like?" "No," shrugs Bink. "I neveh been laid off no jawb in my life." "You neveh hadda jawb," scoffs Rosa. "Did too," snaps Bink. "I woiked f'ra week inna De-Bunk-eh at t' Woil's Faieh. You know, t'at t'ing wheh joiks t'rew baseballs at goils in bed, an' if t'ey hit t' tawrget, t'bed tips oveh an y' fawl onna flooeh. I had a good t'ing goin'eh, t'em joiks couldn' hit t' tawrget t'save t'eh life. I got paid t' lay in bed all day in p'jamas read'na magazine. But t'en'ey foun' out I was on'y sixteen, so I hadda quit. But I wasn' laid off, I jus' din' wan'no trouble wit' t' lawr." "Yeh," nods Rosa. "Gawd fabbid....")

(Where's the fun in that?)

(I didn't realize Dixie used to run into walls. Maybe Reiser can pick up some pointers.)

(All right, that was easy.)

(And whattaya bet she didn't even have insurance.)

("Silhouettes? They're stealing our act!" -- Kay and Mae)

(Ahhh, throw him back.)

(Ever know somebody who always just seems to fall into situations?)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

New York's Picture Newspaper.

Well, Artie, the solution's easy. Stop talking.

From the "Lady Shoulders" collection...

And now we'll spend the next two weeks on Mr. Gray's crusade against age restriction in contract law.

"You've got to let a kid find his own pace."

"Anybody know a good press agent?"

Confession is good for the soul, if you have one.

Point of Order: I refuse to believe that a declared oaf like Slits can climb a tree.

"This opportunity has been reserved for YOU!"


When you're rich like Moon, you can dress however you want.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Worker...

Well, at least there's no fish shortage. Oh, and for the good of all humanity, Bilbo should drop dead.

 

[Fading Fast]

I had a good t'ing goin'eh, t'em joiks couldn' hit t' tawrget t'save t'eh life. I got paid t' lay in bed all day in p'jamas read'na magazine.

Truly the perfect job for Bink.

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"Hubba-Hubba." Dear Lord.

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And whattaya bet she didn't even have insurance.

When did they start installing those little insurance kiosks you used to see in airports?

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Well, Artie, the solution's easy. Stop talking.

Eight months is short even by Hollywood standards, heck, even by Page 4 standards, heck, even by Tommy Manville's standards. And my God, you got tired of Ava Gardner after only 8 months. Hmm. She lasted a full year and a half with Mickey Rooney, who has to be laughing his *ss off right now.