Last night was my first night visiting San Francisco. I watched the Thursday Colbert Report on Hulu with daughter Jess and her beau, Colby at their groovy digs in the Excelsior.

This is the way the youngins watch TV. They do not consent to full strung out enslavement to the cable company. In the future we will all be using this system. I will when the $ runs out.

Colbert looks like Jerry Lewis in this shot.

I turned in after my long drive and a goodly visit to sleep in Jess and Cclby’s very comfortable bed. What dasdardly thing befell me as I dreamed?

The randy Colbert and I were meeting  in short spurts (pun intended?). It was all very secretive. We were sneaking around. At one point, as the sexual intention escalated,  I recall being  covered in sweet pickles (Hey, sometimes a pickle is just a pickle).

I had shared my observation (with Colby and Jess)  that Colbert  frequently diverts attention to his nether regions at times during the Report.

Then the dreams came.

“Colbert!”  I, full of impotent rage,  shake my fist at the heavens.


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