My grandpa called the remote control the "binger banger." As in, "Bring me the binger banger." I grew up calling it that, never thinking anything of it until college when I asked my roommate to pass me the binger banger and she looked at me as if I had grown 2 heads.
Got a secret? A confession? A great new kick ass alcoholic drink recipe? Need help in hiding the body? E-mail me here ...Catz12 (AT) aol (DOT) com...Can we talk?
I would love to have a mid-life crisis but I don't have time.If someone had told me I would be raising a 9 year old joke cracking/question asking/chocolate milk slurping/whirling dervish/boy at my tender age of 57 I would have given them the "have you gone mad?" look and asked for extra olives in my martini.But I can't and I am so I won't.Welcome to my world.
2 comments:
My grandpa called the remote control the "binger banger." As in, "Bring me the binger banger." I grew up calling it that, never thinking anything of it until college when I asked my roommate to pass me the binger banger and she looked at me as if I had grown 2 heads.
I remember when I was a remote control. And a beer deliverer.
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