RED --- YELLOW --- GREEEEEEEEEN

BACK TO SCHOOL, BABY! Don't let the g-forces break your cookie.

Don't Ask For Whom the Bell Tolls...

...'cause it's tolling for you apes to get yer butts BACK IN SCHOOL! Ring-y ring-y!
BWU-HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!
That's right: Da-da's brain has left the building.

Da-da Warmin' Up the Rust Bucket, 'Cause...

...it's almost time for BACK-TO-SCHOOL! Please return your seats to their full upright position,
extinguish all smoking materials and buckle up, as EXTREME BURNOUT is imminent.
Hopefully everyone's wearing their G-suits...

Da-da's Fine Sinister Hand

Well, you really did it this time. You made Da-da write so much between this blog and his third book that his right carpal tunnel has been sliced clean off by Dr. Joe Nengele (Da-da's former Nazi physician). Don't you Da-da readers feel terrible, all three of you? Luckily, Da-da's South Paw isn't so bad, which leaves him writing sinestre ("sinister" means left-handed in Latin, Archimedes), composing this incredibly elegant prose at a top speed of eight WPM. Not bad for a guy with a nerveless Central Nervous System...

Wait. That's right. Da-da forgot: he can't be hurt. He has no nerves left, you see; they've long since been burned out by tantrums and shrieking and no sleep -- Other People's Tantrums (OPT), not his own. Da-da only tantrums at certain relief pitchers and football coaches who can't manage the clock.

Ow, time for more meds and ice. Da-da should be the poster boy for either Advil, or LAMENESS.