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I’m just sayin’ . . .

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Random thoughts, while waiting for my advanced-placement steroid tests to come in:

-- I don’t want to go to any movie that’s louder than my own kids.

-- Joe Torre is the best thing to happen to L.A. since the movie camera.

-- When someone says, “Believe me, you don’t want to know,” it makes you want to know that much more.

-- Beer summit? How about a margarita summit?

-- Los Angeles doesn’t really have rude waiters, just dispirited ones.

-- And for some reason, that’s worse.

-- The best healthcare plan is a sweaty workout, five days a week.

-- The best therapy: funny friends with short memories.

-- HBO’s “Entourage” is still the most fun you can have with your clothes on.

-- If you want a kid to listen, whisper.

-- If you want a kid to read, read yourself.

-- Surest bet for an upcoming Napa Valley promotion: “A Chardonnay summit.”

-- “It isn’t premarital sex if you have no intention of getting married.” (Drew Carey)

-- A telling trait among summer sports: None of them

-- baseball, golf, tennis -- features referee whistles.

-- One of the most important things a parent can learn is how to say no effectively.

-- My wife says no all the time. Very effectively.

-- World’s biggest health club: the California coast.

-- Worst word-of-mouth for a movie in recent memory: “Funny People.”

-- “There’s no trick to being a humorist when you have the whole government working for you.” (Will Rogers)

-- A bougainvillea is the only shrub that attacks you back.

-- Designer dogs? We used to call them mutts.

-- I wonder who they’d send if I ever got seized by North Korea.

-- Tea Leoni? Just a suggestion.

-- Breeziest summer read: “The Dawn Patrol,” a Don Winslow crime novel set amid San Diego’s surf culture.

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-- The Rose Bowl is college football’s Churchill Downs.

-- In August, the male body is about 80% beer.

-- Like Elvis, Michael Jackson will be bigger dead than alive.

-- I wonder what the great Mike Royko would have had to say about blogs.

-- I wonder what Royko would have had to say about Jackson.

-- Like computers, TV remote controls should have “undo” buttons.

-- Somewhere along the line, that show “Weeds” just went wacky.

-- But that new show “Hung” gets better every week.

-- Oh, God, I know who they’d send for me: Brent Musburger.

-- If Lorne Michaels is so brilliant, how come “SNL” has been awful for most of its 387 years?

-- The British Open always seems like the first hint of fall.

-- Long as I live, I’ll never be able to tell a heron from an egret.

-- “Your picture’s in my wallet, and I’m sitting on it. And if that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.” (Larry Linville, as Frank Burns, on “MASH”)

-- Why does it suddenly seem like today’s top actors are all furry and animated?

-- Hey, I’m furry and animated.

-- Most days, I’d rather have a sandwich than a steak.

-- Most nights, the best show on TV will be a rerun.

-- Sinatra songs always lifts my spirits, especially the sad ones.

-- When someone says, “That’s going to come back to bite us,” I always think, “Hmmmm . . . at least I have that to look forward to.”

-- Best summer sound: a creaky cabin door.

-- Best summer treat: the ice cream left at the bottom of a root beer float.

-- If you can read this, thank a teacher.

-- If you can’t understand it, blame a columnist.

Just how furry am I? Believe me, you don’t want to know.

--

chris.erskine@latimes.com

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