Ask a Stupid Quetion Get a Stupid Answer

[Mr. Robin Parsons]

Originally posited by a now pregnant(?) zoobyshoe²
A recent perusal of the famous "Whinings" of the ancient Roman thinker and life commentator, Scabius Cankerous, brought this particularly thoughtful story to my attention:
"This morning I was awaken at sunrise by the sounds of some Phoenecian sailors playing upon the lyre and tambour and singing wistfully in their own tongue as they passed by outside my window. Perhaps the song expressed a longing to return to their homeland, or perhaps to the women waiting for them there, or perhaps just to be back on their great ships bound for some new, wonderful port. These, at least, were the ponderings about their song that passed through my mind as I rose up from my litter and flung the contents of my chamber pot out the window on them for waking a sick man from his slumber."
Now enlighten me if I missed something, but I found the story to be extremely confusing given that the ancient Romans are famous to this day for their celebrated indoor plumbing.

Well tie down my dogs and give me a shot of Canadian Club, Consider yourself enlightened by this one, A chamber pot IS considered indoor Plumbing for people whose only other idea of Plumbing were "Lead W(h)ineglasses!

So I was out walking in the woods, one cold and frosty afternoon, accompanioned by my neighbours dog Sheba. A fresh snow had fallen, the day earlier, covering the ground in white, to a depth of about six inches, that crunched underfoot.

Suddenly I heard a cry, "Whaaaaaa" was the sound, just like a Babies cry, and I listened for it again as I noticed the dogs ears perking up at the noise. It resounded again, and I could tell that, although it sounded just like a human baby, the noise had a quality about it that distincted it from human, and I knew then that it was not of human origin.

Quickly I instructed the dog, Sheba, "Go see" I said to her, and off she went scurrieing into the forest that was a thickset grouping of low cedars growing in a eutriphieing swamp like wetland. I followed her pawprints as she was quite capable of travel in these woods, wheras I was somewhat hindered by my size and inablity to scent out the source of the wailing.

Suddenly I came upon it, the dog standing duty off to the side, there it was, a Snow White Rabbit, caught in a snare wire, its leg wrapped around the securing line that tied the wire to the brush, and the other end of it snared around the rabbits throat, choking the air out of it.

I could easily hear the rabbit's raspng breaths, and could see that, every time it struggled against the wire, it's hind leg would tighten the line, as to choke it, even tighter, generating a further "Rasping and Gargling" sound from the rabbit's frantic breathing.

With the dog watching, I attempted to remove whatever of the wire that I could, but was impaired by the tangled lines around the animals foot, so I shifted attention to the line at the leg and decided to remove the wire from it's brush securing point, as to be able to further manipulate it. Getting the wire off of the Brush was simple enough, but as soon as I had accomplished that, the rabbit bolted, off into the deeper woods, well out of view, and me there, with the setting sun, and darkness, quickly approaching this mountain wetland habitat.

Once again, I sent faithful Sheba after the Rabbit, after all, she too seemed to sense the peril that the frightened animal was in, and that this was something that she did not want to seem to hurt as she once agian, upon finding the critter, held her distance till I got there.

The Rabbit was on it's side, panting and gasping for air with it's leg jerking the wire tighter and choking it more and more. I moved quickly again to this time remove the line from the Rabbits foot. That done, this time I wasn't about to let go of the animal, and I suspect it knew it too.

Gently I picked up the rabbit by placing both of my hands around it's body, and used one hand to search out the line of heavy brass wire that was around it's throat. too thick was the line, and so tight that there was no way I was going to be able to remove it, without harming the animal, or by using tools that just weren't available to me, at this site in the woods.

With the darkness quickly arriving, I decided to take the rabbit back to the house, as to find a pair of cutters, to release it from it potential death. Holding it, as to allow it's body to drop down from my clasped hands around it's chest position, I began the carry of a lifetime, holding a live wild creature in my two hands, attempting rescue.

On the way I could feel that animals heartbeat, as I stroked the back of it's head, 'tween it's ears to attempt to calm it down while I made the half hour walk home. Sheba was her perfectly poised self, not even bothering me about the fact that I was carrieing a live Rabbit, she just went about her business, of sniffing things, and walking along with me, as if this were the most normal of things to be doing. She was used to me, and my long walks so it was kinda normal for her now.

On the way, the rabbit very suddenly decided to attempt a break for freedom, it started Kicking wildly with it's hind legs, trying to get at the hands that held it, but to no avail, as I had my grasp high enough up, on the animals body, as to ensure that it's hind legs couldn't reach my hands, and it's flailing wasn't strong enough to cause anything more then a reaction of me, lifting it a little higher up in the air, as to avoid getting kicked in the face by some accidental backkick.

Arriving at the house, I went for the tool shed immediately. Finding the wire cutters I tried again to calm the animal, placing it on the workbench and starting to cut away at all of the wire that I had not been able to previouly get off of it's body. Down to the last one, the wire around its neck, gently probing in with the wire cutters, I found the line 'tween the jaws of the pliers and I gave them a gentle squeeze, YEEEOOOOOWWWWWEEEEEEEEEEEEE did that Rabbit bolt, it was FREE and it knew it!

After it's running around the tool shed, for what seemded an indeterminable amount of time, it finally stopped, but woudn't you know it, right in front of the door. I knew I had to let it go, so I slowly made my way towards the door, it finally hopped off towards the rear, so I opened the door, it saw that, and bolted out the door, right past my two feet, like a little bolt of lightening.

As it exited the Shed, it ran out about ten feet, turned towards the direction of the forest from whence I had gotten it, started to run towards there, but just slightly after it had turned towards the direction of it's home, it slowed slightly, turned it's head towards me, just a little (as the see out of their eyes slightly differently then us) bit, and it grunted to me, then fled off into the forest and I never saw it again.

Now, in human english, what was it that the rabbit said to me, when it grunted, in rabbit??


BTW this is actually a true story, this really happened to me, BUT, not unlike Biblical stories, there are only two other witnesses to the events, God, and the dog, but, TTBOMK, the dog has since departed this earth, and apparently God isn't really talking to much to some of you, (What did you do to deserve that??) soooo, Believe it, or, well, Whaaaatever![/color]

P.S. Anyone up for adopting a slightly mishapen, napalmed, grey alien derivitive baby?? call the Zoo line (666) 1-800 I need zoob's love now

 

[zoobyshoe]

Originally asked by a poor soul suffering delusions of grandeur in that he compares the narrative of an episode of his life to a Biblical[/color] story and who is also under the erroneous impression that a male zoobie can become pregnant[/color] . Please send him your spare Haldol and Zyprexa.Now, in human english, what was it that the rabbit said to me, when it grunted, in rabbit??

What a remarkable well educated rabbit that was! His grunt was the very compact rabbit version of the following citation from the memoirs of Scabius Cankerous:

"There is, among the men of Rome, a kind of philosopher who advises us to be content with the misfortunes doled out by the Nature~Soul saying that there is always a sublime reason for these troubles. These `philosophers' claim the boil on my ass is there in accordance with a higher good and must be accepted as inevitable and necessary for the world to continue as it is. I think, therefore, that it would be good that they all develop boils so that the good of the universe might be thereby increased, and that, in this vein, Rome would be a positive Utopia if all men could only be afflicted with these good boils, and it would become a nation of the upstanding since no one could take their ease in sitting any longer."

-Scabius Cankerous
Whinings

In other words, the rabbit was saying that, even though you had just freed it, it had just been through the worst day of its life and although your capture and handling of it were for its ultimate good, it was still pretty much scared witless and hoped you weren't expecting any effusive show of gratitude, under the circumstances.
Quetion: What peculiar neurological damage can account for Mr. Robin Parsons' decision to characterize me as pregnant?

 

[Mr. Robin Parsons]

Originally WHIIIIINED by zoobyshoe
Quetion: What peculiar neurological damage can account for Mr. Robin Parsons' decision to characterize me as pregnant?

Telepathy!

Out of what orifice is zoobyshoe's resultant "child" (for lack of a better, or less insulting word) being birthed/born through?

 

[zoobyshoe]

Originally pondered by the most ponderous poltroon:Parsons
Out of what orifice is zoobyshoe's resultant "child" (for lack of a better, or less insulting word) being birthed/born through?

Since the word "child" is not insulting when applied to new borns, your suggestion that it is clearly means you have neglected to accurately translate the sentiment behind this quetion into English from the original Parsophrenia, to coin a term, and as the quetion stands (in complete incoherence) it is unanswerable. It is, therefore, an example of the stupidest of all stupid quetions, and is right where it belongs: in this thread.Once, as a young man, before World War One, I had the extrordinary experience of a chance encounter
with the Greek philosopher, Plato,
(this was way before World War One) who pushed me up against a marble column outside a public edifice one day and began ranting about some lost civilization that had been destroyed in an earthquake. To prove to him that he was in the throes of a manic delusion I bodily carried him to a nearby spring rich in dissolved lithium carbonate and forced him to sit in the water for several hours until his delusional state subsided.
When he had regained his sences he lamented that he had already written the whole weird tale down, had it copied many times over by busy scribes, and dispatched to libraries and private collections all over the mediterranean.

In light of the incident described in the above anecdote, what relation might be said to exist between the term "Play Dough" and the name "Plato"?

 

[Mr. Robin Parsons]

Originally uttered by the most unutterable X⁺¹ that has roamed the facia of the sphere in , well, the last thirty seconds...zoobyshoe
Once, as a young man, before World War One, I had the extrordinary experience of a chance encounter with the Greek philosopher, Plato,
(this was way before World War One) who pushed me up against a marble column outside a public edifice one day and began ranting about some lost civilization that had been destroyed in an earthquake. To prove to him that he was in the throes of a manic delusion I bodily carried him to a nearby spring rich in dissolved lithium carbonate and forced him to sit in the water for several hours until([/color]l)[/color] his delusional state subsided.
When he had regained his sences he lamented that he had already written the whole weird tale down, had it copied many times over by busy scribes, and dispatched to libraries and private collections all over the mediterranean.
In light of the incident described in the above anecdote, what relation might be said to exist between the term "Play Dough" and the name "Plato"?[/color]

Monopoly Money[/color] and the corrrect Roman translation of the encrypted word 'Plato', (as to it's root meaning) decoded being; P-Lat(e)-O(h)! as in "Mr. P is a going to be Late...OH! but he only gots Monopoly Money[/color], no real ca$h". So the relationship is clearly seen as a mutable form of a plastic coupled to the timely observation of the tardiness of the encumbent form of 'mutable neuronal plasticity' presently tie'ping.

That said, we ask something in the above statement, what?

 

[zoobyshoe]

Originally posted by Mr. Robin Parsons
That said, we ask something in the above statement, what?

See other thread for tedious reply.Does "Fat liver" have anything to do with "Fat Tuesday" or "Fats Waller"?

 

[FZ+]

Only in the theory of FAT GUT, which is marvellous but too long to fit in this post.

Why do Mr Robin and zoobyshoe dominate this thread?

 

[zoobyshoe]

Originally posted by FZ+
Why do Mr Robin and zoobyshoe dominate this thread?

There is, at this very moment, a consortium of nearly 70 sociologists, psychiatrists, psychologists and psychotics deeply concentrating on discovering the merest toehold of understanding from which to launch a heavily funded research project whose goal is to formulate the outlines of an hypothesis about this phenomenon. The predicted date of the time when it may become reasonable to start wondering when the hypothesis will be ready to be alluded to with confidence is 6 April 09. Untill then try thinking about something else. Why doesn't Fz+ dominate this thread? He has the ambition, intelligence, Batman-villain-style lust to dominate essentially pointess enterprises. Warum nicht?

 

[Mr. Robin Parsons]

Originally asked by zoobyshoe, the other "denominator"
Why doesn't Fz+ dominate this thread? He has the ambition, intelligence, Batman-villain-style lust to dominate essentially pointess enterprises. Warum nicht?

Good Question! so here's your answer...

Originally asked by zoobyshoe's other "denominator"
See other thread for tedious reply.

Why is it that people all ways accuse "others" of doing exactly what it is that they do?

 

[zoobyshoe]

Originally posted by Mr. Robin Parsons
Why is it that people all ways accuse "others" of doing exactly what it is that they do?

Try accusing "yourself" of doing exactly what it is that others do, and you'll see why: it's a lot less fun.What could account for the fact that the fine pumpkin you brought home for Halloween appears to be still growing?

 

[Mr. Robin Parsons]

Originally posted by zoobyshoe
What could account for the fact that the fine pumpkin you brought home for Halloween appears to be still growing?

The Ghost within...

On a short trip through a field yesterday, midst the Sweet white clovers and the Queen Annes lace, I found a rabbit track, could it be the same one as I had had previous chance to encounter?

 

[zoobyshoe]

Originally posted by Mr. Robin Parsons
On a short trip through a field yesterday, midst the Sweet white clovers and the Queen Annes lace, I found a rabbit track, could it be the same one as I had had previous chance to encounter?

The tracks you saw actually belong to a little known species of Duiker, which is a very small sort of deer-like animal that frequents clover/lace meadows and has fangs. They can leap ten feet and are bloodthirsty when bored so do not enter the meadow again without practising your repertoire of soft show dances and witty banter to entertain him should he discover you.

How do you account for the fact that you are just about positive the fine Halloween pumpkin you recently purchased seems to understand every word you utter in it's presence, but pretends to be stone deaf?

 

[Mr. Robin Parsons]

Originally posted by zoobyshoe
How do you account for the fact that you are just about positive the fine Halloween pumpkin you recently purchased seems to understand every word you utter in it's presence, but pretends to be stone deaf?

From the Ohhh so obvious Wry smilie upon it's face.

When a Witch, gets on her broom, (electrolux now-a-days I here, but it's only a rumor) how does that help her to lose weight?

 

[J-Man]

Originally posted by Mr. Robin Parsons
When a Witch, gets on her broom, (electrolux now-a-days I here, but it's only a rumor) how does that help her to lose weight?

This is a strange phenomenon known only to apply to "bad" Witches. Apparently the antigravity aspects of said broom form a covalent bond with the water in the Witch's body. The water is drawn out, thereby decreasing the nomative weight of the witch, runs down the length of the broom to where it randomly coagulates between the bristles until it falls to the ground. This is why it rains so much this time of year.

Why doesn't this work for "good" Witches?

 

[zoobyshoe]

Originally posted by J-Man
This is why it rains so much this time of year.

Why doesn't this work for "good" Witches?

Before answering let me say that, in addition to being the first coherent and accurate explanation of autumnal rain I have ever encountered, your response also has opened a window to an undertanding of the cause of the change to liquid state when "bad" witches come in direct contact with water. I am thinking along these lines: being nearly anhydrous would cause them to rehydrate at a rate in excess of what the cellular connectivity could bear. I'm afraid this is just speculation, however, and merely meant to prod those with more information into giving the matter serious consideration.

The "good" witches have no need of cleaning implements in their transportation, because they practically weightless already and the mere thought of levitation induces it: they have already lost what weight they ever had to lose.How do you account for the fact that the Halloween pumpkin you personally hunted down and bagged yourself in a pumpkin patch near your California home has been found to bear a small tag on it's underside instructing you to call the Departement of Fish, Game and Pumpkin Tracking, Fayetteville, Louisiana, USA, if found?

 

[Mr. Robin Parsons]

Originally flewn in on "Pumkins Airlines" Piloted by zoobyshoe, "Pumkin Airlines we always land with a soft pLoP"
How do you account for the fact that the Halloween pumpkin you personally hunted down and bagged yourself in a pumpkin patch near your California home has been found to bear a small tag on it's underside instructing you to call the Departement of Fish, Game and Pumpkin Tracking, Fayetteville, Louisiana, USA, if found?

Government Bureaucracy!

(P.S. sssst...be careful with that Pumkin, It's Military Grade, worth More then you are)

Are we now going to go on a "Halloween" theme, for weeks on end, till the end of the weeks, till "Halloween", and all of the "Halloween" theme items can be trumped out of the 'closets of the mind' as to employ the uselessness of knowledge, that is useful, if it is used in this theme event history till we all know it all off by heart, only to forget it till next halloween, then we will try to remember it all over again a to repeat as nessecary?

 

[zoobyshoe]

Originally mumbled in a noticabley irritated tone by some very grumpy version of Mr.Robin ParsonsAre we now going to go on a "Halloween" theme, for weeks on end, till the end of the weeks, till "Halloween", and all of the "Halloween" theme items can be trumped out of the 'closets of the mind' as to employ the uselessness of knowledge, that is useful, if it is used in this theme event history till we all know it all off by heart, only to forget it till next halloween, then we will try to remember it all over again a to repeat as nessecary?

Does a werewolf sh*t in the woods? How would you react if, on Halloween night, the doorbell rang and you open it only to find ten little men in old fashioned prison garb banging on stones with a hammer?

 

[theEVIL1]

REMEMBER--------

there are no stupid questions, just stupid people.

Laters.

 

[zoobyshoe]

Originally posted by theEVIL1
there are no stupid questions, ...

There are, however, stupid quetions.

 

[Mr. Robin Parsons]

Originally posted by zoobyshoe
How would you react if, on Halloween night, the doorbell rang and you open it only to find ten little men in old fashioned prison garb banging on stones with a hammer?

Ask if they had seen Mr. P Lately...

What if the answer to the quetion, is found in a riddle, but the riddle isn't the answer to the quetion, but the answer to the riddle's question, is the answer to the answer of the riddle, which in turn then solves the riddles need of responding to the original qeution?

 

[zoobyshoe]

Originally posted by Mr. Robin Parsons
What if the answer to the quetion, is found in a riddle, but the riddle isn't the answer to the quetion, but the answer to the riddle's question, is the answer to the answer of the riddle, which in turn then solves the riddles need of responding to the original qeution?

This is obviously the non-denominational view of the issue but you have forgotten that this is a Southern Baptist matter with neo-presbeterian congregationalist overtones that was, you will remember, first introduced into the issue from the issues own sine qua non enigmatic riddilism, prior to any attempt to formulate riddilistic enigmaticism, which most practitioners of the art would agree is just a corruption of the qetion and anser format of inquirizational responsiveness joking in all earnestness, here, mysterious riddlism is something quite distinct altogether, obviously, but you have never ansered that point to your own complete confusion and cling to the illusion of pre-surrealistic quethtions andth anthers,(I mean that in the Parkinsonian, not Parsonian, mode) during which, the whole time, syntactical infelicity substitutes for humor instead of employing humor qua humor, but riddles wearing joke's clothing hiding behind the erroneously coughed up furball that lies at the Earth's end.

Did Einstein ever know this kind of joy?

 

[Mr. Robin Parsons]

Originally posted by zoobyshoe
Did Einstein ever know this kind of joy?

Actually, from some recent reading I found out that the "Joy" that Einstein enjoyed, was of another nature, as that was, apparently, the name of his "bateau au voile" that he used to enJOY, till the winds died, and the Suns set, and the Cows came back out "agin", in da mornin!

So, if you are running your computer, and the Cruise Control takes over and skids you out fiercely on the dry surface of the information highway, do you pick yourself back up again or, just stay down!??

 

[zoobyshoe]

Originally posted by Mr. Robin Parsons So, if you are running your computer, and the Cruise Control takes over and skids you out fiercely on the dry surface of the information highway, do you pick yourself back up again and restart/reboot/rerun, or, just stay down!??

I let my chauffeur and mechanic handle all that stuff.

Ooooo! I just heard the magnetic field flip! Should we now call the North Star the South Star?

 

[Mr. Robin Parsons]

Originally posted by zoobyshoe
Ooooo! I just heard the magnetic field flip! Should we now call the North Star the South Star?

NOPE it's now the star formerly known as North, with the new combinatrix naming of SNORTH STAR and N'SOUTH STAR.
How did you hear the field flip. I thought I had done that entirely silently this time, musta been that confuctivationalmodulatrixing booberplayer timing....

If the Earth's magnetic field flipped, and the last time nothing over 39 Kgs survived the toss, what are you going to do, this time, if you weigh in at 80 kgs?

 

[zoobyshoe]

Originally posted by Mr. Robin Parsons If the Earth's magnetic field flipped, and the last time nothing over 39 Kgs survived the toss, what are you going to do, this time, if you weigh in at 80 kgs?

Revert to my amoeboid state just before the event, divide into two 40 kg amoeba (amoebi?), wait it out, and when it is over think up a new user name for the new Zoobyshoe.
(Perhaps: Mr. Zooby Shoe.)

(Ah, comme je suis malin!) Where can one find one of those incredibly delicious pumpkin and liverwurst on sourdough sandwiches like they used to serve on the Rive Gauche, somewhere along le Rue de Lapin Mort, in the Cafe Vagabond back before the War?

 

[Mr. Robin Parsons]

Originally posted by zoobyshoe
(Ah, comme je suis malin!) Where can one find one of those incredibly delicious pumpkin and liverwurst on sourdough sandwiches like they used to serve on the Rive Gauche, somewhere along le Rue de Lapin Mort, in the Cafe Vagabond back before the War?

Not sure about that, but you could try here in Kingston, "The Store Famous[/color]" might have them, I was in there the other day, couldn't afford Fame, so I bought rolling papers instead, but maybe you could afford it, or one of those famous sandwiches.

So what would you do when you find out you have been running the proverbial race of "The Tortoise, and the Hare", you are the "Hare", and this writter is the "Tortoise", you realize that the race is a planetary one, 70 % of the planets face is water, "Tortoises" can swim really really well, and Hare's are nicknamed "Shark's Q'tips" to all Ocean dwellers?

P.S. There really is a store called "The Store Famous[/color]" here in Kingston, corner of York and Barrie.

 

[zoobyshoe]

Originally posted by Mr. Robin Parsons So what would you do when you find out you have been running the proverbial race of "The Tortoise, and the Hare", you are the "Hare", and this writter is the "Tortoise", you realize that the race is a planetary one, 70 % of the planets face is water, "Tortoises" can swim really really well, and Hare's are nicknamed "Shark's Q'tips" to all Ocean dwellers?

Since the term "Shark's Q'tips" means "Of no use whatever to sharks", given they haven't any apparatus for manipulating a Q'tip and no interest in eating them, this is no concern. As for the expanse of water, this could be quite an obstacle. I think I will lie down, and take a nap, while my unconscious mind works it out.

P.S. There really is a store called "The Store Famous[/color]" here in Kingston, corner of York and Barrie.

I know. I own that store.Once, when I was dozing at a table outside a cafe in Paris called Le Lapin Dormant a somewhat familiar voice from a few tables away caught my attention, and, opening one eye slightly I was horrified to see it was my old high school math teacher, Mrs. Quadraticus, who was something like a cross between a screw at Alcatraz and a Tasmanian Devil. I disappeared from the premises rapidly, and in the process, neglected the bill. This has been weighing on my conscience heavily in the intervening years and I wonder what I should do about it?

 

[Mr. Robin Parsons]

Originally posted by zoobyshoe
Once, when I was dozing at a table outside a cafe in Paris called Le Lapin Dormant a somewhat familiar voice from a few tables away caught my attention, and, opening one eye slightly I was horrified to see it was my old high school math teacher, Mrs. Quadraticus, who was something like a cross between a screw at Alcatraz and a Tasmanian Devil. I disappeared from the premises rapidly, and in the process, neglected the bill. This has been weighing on my conscience heavily in the intervening years and I wonder what I should do about it?

"Yes son, your dilema is very clear to us all here at the "Phone in Psychiatric Center", The "PPC" where every call is important to U$, surely you have realized that you should immediately phone Mrs. Quadraticus and apologize to her in full, with admonitions upon yourself for eternal damnations should you ever have such heathens thoughts, about such a pure woman, EvEr again, failing that, you should do a self imposed penance as recomended by Sister Aldat Dizcip'line, from 'Our Lady of The Oaken Rulers", she'll make darn certain that that old adage of "Give a man an inch, and he'll think he is a ruler", never crosses your mind, (or knuckles too) and from there you can led a live of purity, and chastity that is the life you have always dreamed of! From that, you can probably make New friends, and with them, earn yourself some real honest money, then you can go back to that sweet little cafe, in "Paras", like you done told us, and work off your debt there too. Don't forget sweety, we have your credit card number, thanks bye!

What if all of a sudden, isn't?

 

[zoobyshoe]

Originally murmured over the "Help For The Hapless Hotline" by Mr.Robin Parsons, defender of psychopathic math teachers and disciplinarian clergy, and soon-to-be Prime Tyrant of "The Canadian Nationalist Party Of The Too Distracted by Internet Interests To Be Employed":What if all of a sudden isn't?"

There are precedents for this, and one hears rumors, so don't be surprised if suddenness isn't as unexpected as you would anticipate.

Once, when I was snoring sweetly at a cab stand in Paris, waiting for one of those two horse power taxis ironically referred to as "Les Lapins Rapides" I dreampt I was repelling down the side of coordinate system K' and encountered several tortoises plodding along a vector roughly 67 degrees off the normal of my own in a coordinate system K⁹ that was in relative motion with K' at a leisurely velocty of roughly 2 mph. I though to myself that if I let go my hold and landed on the back of one of those tortoises I could take a nap there while it transported me. But I woke up to see the taxi driver staring me in the face saying "Alors! Vous venez ou non?" On the way to my little Chambre, I related the narrative of this dream to him, and he responded "Je sais. Tout le mond a le meme reve." And so: Does Mr.R.P., too, have the same dream?

 

[Mr. Robin Parsons]

Originally snored into existence by the dream state of the "hariest of the hares" "slowest of the speedy" "deluded of the deluding, when being decieved" and generally "All round sound of emittent gases" zoobyshoe-The Foist, really number 12, in of all the "Books of ten"
Once, when I was snoring sweetly at a cab stand in Paris, waiting for one of those two horse power taxis ironically referred to as "Les Lapins Rapides" I dreampt I was repelling down the side of coordinate system K' and encountered several tortoises plodding along a vector roughly 67 degrees off the normal of my own in a coordinate system K⁹ that was in relative motion with K' at a leisurely velocty of roughly 2 mph. I though to myself that if I let go my hold and landed on the back of one of those tortoises I could take a nap there while it transported me. But I woke up to see the taxi driver staring me in the face saying "Alors! Vous venez ou non?" On the way to my little Chambre, I related the narrative of this dream to him, and he responded "Je sais. Tout le mond a le meme reve." And so: Does Mr.R.P., too, have the same dream?

Nope riding on a tortoises back is NOT on of my dreams cause I know all of those tortoises and I'll tell you about them, they look innocuous enough, but get near enough to any of them, and you will get to find out just how sharp a tortoises beak can be, nevermind the claws on the feet. See really they are the ones who employ the Sharks Q'tip's, use them for after going to the bathroom (or something like that) which is why you never find any washed up on the shoreline, well, except the ones that got away, but usually they are quite well marked, if they have any head, or brains, left at all (those kinds of tortoises are real fat lovers, and you brains is mostly fat sooo...) after those ones have had there way with anyone. So in conclusion, well clear enough, pedantic little ploglidites need not apply.

Just the other day I got a call from my foister sys, and was asked to assist them, in the Yukon, so I got on my bicycle and road out to the place that we had agreed upon. Arriving there the next day I noticed that my back wheel was slightly off, in the spoke tensioning, so grabbing my trusted spoke wrench I twisted the nipple till it cried out. My foister asked me to help, I had, and was now ready to return home to my tent, but wait, what had happened here?