11 Eat your spaghetti, Kelly Ripa

“Gee! Haw! Gee! Haw! Yippie! Yahoo!”
The screams turned old mildew in the cracks to dust.
JoJo tore out of the bedroom, thinking Granny Guss had keeled over during an ad and some firm lumpy part of her squished the remote for a channel switch. Briefly stated, he thought he heard Jessica Simpson on the mechanical bull in her “These Boots Are Made For Walking” video. He wanted to see it again and entreated, “Go for the gusto, Jessica.”
But Granny Guss was far from a return to drowsy, drooling form. There was a dizzy cruise ship commercial within the second-hand Bang & Olufsen screen, and before the station break, JoJo presumed, Kelly had pouted directly at the camera, keeping Granny Guss’s torpor at bay by forcing a question mark into her mind: Why was Kelly pouting, and what would Regis say?
“Rock ’em and sock ’em, baby Drew! Gee haw! Club ’em Alley Oop style! Hi yo dinosaur!”
Baby Drew put his newly acquired flyswatter to excellent use, with Granny Guss egging him on. Delirious studio applause shook the normally stolid Bang & Olufsen speakers.
“Aw, s___,” JoJo grumbled. He liked Kelly, but she was looking lately, sometimes, like an extra-terrestrial, and he’d had other things on his mind when he bolted from the bedroom to catch a glimpse of juicy ephemera like Jessica. He pivoted for the return trip to the bedroom. As he closed the door, he heard Regis say, “We’re back.” Until then, to accompany the slaughter of any household pest within flyswatter length of the baby crib, Granny Guss screamed, “Send ’em a message! Send ’em a message, little Drew! Send ’em a message!”

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One Response to “11 Eat your spaghetti, Kelly Ripa”

  1. Peter Smith Says:

    The scent of a house whose windows are never opened, wherre the rugs and the upholstery stick to your bare feet, whre the back of the TV buzzes and is full of dust.

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