Wait, dear reader, you look a little confused. Could it possibly be that you are unclear on what day it is?
“Okay, Eric,” you will probably pander, lip upturned and finger forcefully tapping your keyboard, “what day is today?”
What day is today? Why today is Paul McCullough day! This is the day when June McCullough gave birth to Paul “Bobby” McCullough a short twenty-two years ago. However, I will not give you a biographical sketch on Mr. McCullough because that job has already been breathlessly accomplished by one Alison Waffles, and so I defer you, dear reader, to her.
“Well, if you aren’t going to tell us about Paul’s life, then why are you taking up our time? You really screwed up this time.”
My word, you are on edge today, so allow for me to rush ahead!
Today I want to talk about myself (big surprise), and more specifically what Paul McCullough means to me. Since he is so far away, I figured that I could get away with writing him a very sentimental cinquain which I have decided to put on display for all of you here today. In honor of Ben’s witty comment earlier, I have named this poem “A Good Paul Isn’t Hard to Find:”
If I
don’t marry, Paul
could be my hetero-
sexual life partner. He’s a
good man.
Now that my heart’s bleeding all over your web browser, I will show you a couple of pictures to drive home the goodness of my dear friend.
Paul sitting with our dear friend Adam (who happens to be a hobo clown poet)

When Paul choreographed the dance numbers for the movie Footloose
Paul brought sexy back years before JT
Life imitating art imitating life
To Paul - may that magnificent son of a McCullough have many glorious years ahead of him!
So, while I will always encourage you to remember me when naming your children, I ask that you also pause before sending wee Eric or Erica to school come 15 November.
4 comments:
Dang, there's a lot of plaid in this post.
I love Paul too!
more original than a coors
you milka the goat... yes?
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