Mr. Slate has pulled the tail-feathers of the squawking pterodactyl, signaling the end of another work-week. And it’s been a real T-Rex of one, if you get my polar ice cap drift. So, I’m slidin’ off the brontosaurus, punchin’ out, and headin’ for the drive-in. Pat yo’self on the back for having survived the crunch, and joyfully celebrate with your favorite Wilma, Barney, Betty, Pebbles, and Bam-Bam (and Dino, of course).Yabba-dabba and a big ol’ doo!
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