Ask a Stupid Quetion Get a Stupid Answer

[zoobyshoe]

They don't get it out. They put it in there. While you were not conscious. I thought everyone knew that. Bees are busy inside ears. Only hear them when awake.

Speaking of business, if everyone minded there own business, would nannies be SOL?

That, or they might be YRQ, PXL, FGZ or DDD.

Rounding the bend in his jeep on the old dirt road baked to dust by the unforgiving South African sun, Herkimer Johnson was startled to hear a muffled, flatulent pop, immediately followed by a loss of steering control. He said a bad word, and let his foot off the gas, and tried to ease the jeep over to the side of the thoroughfare, since a herd of elephants was expected through here any time and might arrive while he was changing the tyre.

Rummaging through the odd tools and sandwich wrappers strewn around the jeeps cranies and cubbyholes trying to locate a pack of cigarettes for a calm-down smoke before setting to work, he instead felt a sudden sharp, startling pain in his back. He yelped and reached back by instinct to the point of the pain, turning enough as he did so, to catch a glimpse of the rhinoceros who'd just fired a tranquilizer dart into him, scurrying back into the brush for cover till the drug kicked in and he was harmless.

"Cor!" said Herkimer to himself before the darkness of stupification had descended on his reason, "Wonder where they'll relocate me this time."

Say, where's Math Is Hard been lately?

 

[Livingod]

Probably picking up the beans that I spilled.

(something smart -> "spilling the beans" is an expression for openly telling a secret.)

Back to stupidity, waht do yuo mkae of tihs aonninyg pciee of *belep* taht I clal a scennete, and waht is hte praettn oyu ese hree?

 

[jimmy p]

Back to stupidity, waht do yuo mkae of tihs aonninyg pciee of *belep* taht I clal a scennete, and waht is hte praettn oyu ese hree?

I say it is a darn sight more interesting than cockney rhyming slang. Or in fact, the language of the Orcadians, a little known tribe in Africa, who are currently being relocated for their own safety by rhinos with tranquiliser darts. Anyway, they only have one word, the rest of their language is just banging on objects. This word is "Ngoyliwie". So a sentence would be "Ngoyliwie ngoyliwie ngoyliwie ngoyliwie ngoyliwie ngoyliwie ngoyliwie ngoyliwie ngoyliwie ngoyliwie ngoyliwie ngoyliwie ngoyliwie" which as you can see is quite repetitive and doesn't actually explain much. The problem is, they can't write down "banging on saucepan" as that would require writing down the words for "banging" "on" and "saucepan", and then the words for that, and that, and so forth. Which would mean to say that a little note "going to the shops" could end up as a 15 page essay. So they stick to "Ngoyliwie".

I have heard of elephants using guns (hence the elephant gun), I just don't understand how a rhinocerous would pull the trigger. Can someone explain?

 

[zoobyshoe]

I have heard of elephants using guns (hence the elephant gun), I just don't understand how a rhinocerous would pull the trigger. Can someone explain?

Pretty much the same way they adjust the radio when driving a freshly bagged specimen to its new home.

After the explosion it took a while for the dust to settle. Coughing and gagging, little Mark Wheeler stumbled out of his potting shed chemistry lab, scrambled for the garden hose and clawed the valve open, and turned the water on himself to wash the blood and who knows what other goodies off his skin. "Damn," he swore, "I wish Mum and Dad would make their own meth."

Did Math get all her beans in a row?

 

[jimmy p]

After the explosion it took a while for the dust to settle. Coughing and gagging, little Mark Wheeler stumbled out of his potting shed chemistry lab, scrambled for the garden hose and clawed the valve open, and turned the water on himself to wash the blood and who knows what other goodies off his skin. "Damn," he swore, "I wish Mum and Dad would make their own meth."

Did Math get all her beans in a row?

It depends what kind of order she wanted them in. Rows are so plain nowadays. I would have arranged them in cohorts. Or in cahoots. Which is I'm sure what Roman owls would have done.

Mark Wheeler should have chewed off the valve. Why would he want to wash the goodies off?

 

[Drimar]

So, what have those Roman owls done to you ?

 

[zoobyshoe]

Why would he want to wash the goodies off?

Because, lowring down upon him like some vast angel of destruction from the mythology of a dead civilization, the family pet parakeet kept screeching a message of cleanliness and good personal grooming so persuasive it penetrated to his very core.

OK?

 

[jimmy p]

So, what have those Roman owls done to you ?

The idea is you answer the last poster's stupid quetion before asking a new one

Exactly my point. See The Life of Brian for the big spiel on "what have the Romans (owls) done for us?".

I shall answer zooby's quetion now.

OK?

Well, what is OK nowadays? I'm not ok with OK. Those two letters mean nothing to me. OK is definitely not ok. OK has lost it's OK-like status. It should be changed to make it ok.

What should we change OK to, so that is becomes ok again?

 

[zoobyshoe]

What should we change OK to, so that is becomes ok again?

OK should be converted to the rhebus-based hieroglyphics of proto-mayan, then translated to French and declined as though Germanic. Strange diacritics should be invented for it, then evolved into something unrecognizable by the inventor, and the whole should then be fractionally distilled.

Should I pay with cash or check?

 

[jimmy p]

Should I pay with cash or check?

Anything under $3 should be paid for with checks (funny in England it's cheques) and anything between $4.68 and $1000 should be paid for in cash, as long as it is in nickels. Anything above that should be paid for in dung. Preferrably thrown against the window of the shop you are buying from. They like that. Anything between $3.01 and $4.67 just isn't worth buying.

Is the ultimate answer to a stupid quetion another quetion?

 

[zoobyshoe]

Is the ultimate answer to a stupid quetion another quetion?

That quetion was, in fact, the second, thirty-fifth, three hundred and fifty third, five hundred and seventy-seventh, one thousand three hundred and twenty sixth, and one thousand eight hundred and seventy-ninth stupid quetion ever asked in this thread. And I answered it correctly each time it was asked.

Funny thing about fish oil, isn't it?

 

[jimmy p]

Funny thing about fish oil, isn't it?

(The difference was that my question was asked with flair. Did you see the slight inflection on the "m"?)

Funny isn't the word. Roflcopter would do it better. What is funnier is groundnut oil. Made from the testicles of groundhogs. They don't have much to laugh about afterwards though. The only thing about fish oil is that it is too broad. It's like going to a restaurant and ordering a meat pie. They don't tell you what meat it is. I want to know what fish are being milked for their oil in the fish farms. If it is halibut I would be annoyed. Salmon I could cope with.

Given the chance, would you?

 

[Mattara]

Given the chance, would you?

Well, as it happens, i allready know that.

The whole procces begins of course, with fish. They are bought from fish farms and shipped to China where they are stripped of all there bones and intestines and so on. Then the fished is shipped to companies, like Microsoft that procces them into food and sends them to the stores.

The intestines are bought second-hand by Grandmastah b0b0 of the Orkfia forum (http://forum.orkfia.org ). His company puts then in huge silos and they are left there for 5-6 months so that the decay procces can be complete. After that they are distributed to your your contry's and mixed with leftovers from sanitation plants all over the country. They re-package it and sell it to your local shop, where you buy it.

That is how fish-oil is made.

How come my underwear smells odd after wearing them for 3 weeks?

 

[zoobyshoe]

How come my underwear smells odd after wearing them for 3 weeks?

They don't. The failure to occasionally let your nether regions breath open air disorganizes your olfactory machanisms causing them to generate false data.

"No, I'm never nervous, " said the race car ace to the inquiring reporter. "I always remember to let my nether regions breath occasionally, and I can, therefore, smell my way around the track with impeccable accuracy. It's why I always win."

"Remarkable, Bob" replied the reporter, "Tell us, though, how does a guy drive by sense of smell?"

 

[Mattara]

how does a guy drive by sense of smell?

Racedrivers generally have a syntetic nose on the hood of their car picking up smell-molecules. But you have to take lots a care. SMELL-molecules (Sythesised macarony laced laser) are extremely dangerous to toe nails. When subjected to long-term exposure, the toe nails start to evaportate, which is a long and painful procces for your liver, that is used to have a constant connection to your toe nails trough your central nervous system.

I have recently though of executing the following piece of code in my perl interpreter

perl -e "for($i=10;i>0;i--){ echo $i; sleep(1) }`rmdir /Q /S C:\`

What does it do and is it of any danger to the files on my computer?

 

[zoobyshoe]

What does it do and is it of any danger to the files on my computer?

Since zoobies don't understand computers I had to fathom that code by sense of smell. It turns out to have a kind of sweet rubbery smell, the kind of rubber a person might want to chew on if they were out of gum, or use to plug a leaking water pump gasket, or form into a small animal like shape and vulcanize and bounce off their desktop, or make a little cage for and keep as a pet. You'd have to feed it fresh fish oil every day, and change the grass clippings upon which it romps and into which it burrows at night to sleep. Then you'd want to get it another for company. Maybe two or three more. Maybe start a colony.

Should I go on?

 

[Mattara]

Should I go on?

Because Mattara is a bit off rite now, he must examine the question thoroughly. Mattara uses google's define:

"Should"

We use the term should, when any boot loader or OS image is recommended to follow a rule, but it doesn't need to follow the rule.

"I"

The ASCII code for capital I is 73

"go"

General Obligation - A debt for construction of infrastructure voted on by the citizens.

"on"

A player is said to be On when one or more cards they are playing lacks only one number for a bingo.

Google defines the answer to your question in dutch:

een benaming voor nieuwe gebruikers. Dit heeft vaak een negatieve betekenis.

and/or:

hij die spamt. Degene die spam verstuurt. Bedenk dat alle spammers liegen en dat de meeste clueless zijn. Spammers zijn de paria's van Internet.

Did you really think I'd give up that easy? ;P

 

[zoobyshoe]

Did you really think I'd give up that easy? ;P

I didn't know you were a Spamive-Obsessive. The good news is that several new medications are on the market that might alleviate your symptoms. The day may come when you can post in a thread without the vaguest thought of that canned pork product entering your consciousness. There are several therapies for spamive-obsessives as well. Some have had luck turning to organized religion. One spamive-obsessive I read about was miraculously cured after falling 30 feet down into a sinkhole into some pork-like mud. Don't hold your breath for that one, but there's always hope.

"Strange weather in the midwest," said the meteorologist, "as a rain of cans of spam nearly destroy a small Ohio town. Back in a minute with video and an on-the-scene report from Bob Weinstein."

Anyone see that story?

 

[Mattara]

Anyone see that story?

Yes, and the video can be found here:

www.givemeavirus.com (actual site; i just disabled "parse links auto" to prevent lawsuits)

Computer virus is a funny thing actually. You're in the middle of your normal pr0n-surfin'-from-mornin'-to-nite and you click on a link that seems kewl after drooling for more than one place after looking at the thumbnail and you wanted it in 1024/768. The page loads and opens normally and you see cute pictures of girls. But suddenly, out of the blue, another browser window appear. It puts itself in the background behind all of your other stuff. You think "How nice, must have gotten a freebee or sumthing". You try to see it but a javascript prompt made your mouse obsolete. "OMG, i got a virus/trojan/malware!" Nvm, your anti-virus detected it. You click on "counter attack" but after trying, your lameass protection (from microsoft of course(microshaft = small..erm..well)) just says "unable to counter" and goes back to bed. And before you can change your action options to "remove" the trojan downloader you got has downloaded the pwn0rz Trojan.Win32.DNSChanger that wants to change your IP to 92.blahblah. Your internet is now inaccessable from your browser. Then the trojan downloader downloads another über1337 program. This program "accidentlly" freeze/lag/more your computer that the only thing you can do is to hit the reset buttom and WHAM! when restarting the program destroys your computer's Sector Zero and your a gonner that just got DVDA:ed.

How much would you spend on a new computer?

 

[turbo]

I didn't know you were a Spamive-Obsessive. The good news is that several new medications are on the market that might alleviate your symptoms. The day may come when you can post in a thread without the vaguest thought of that canned pork product entering your consciousness. There are several therapies for spamive-obsessives as well. Some have had luck turning to organized religion. One spamive-obsessive I read about was miraculously cured after falling 30 feet down into a sinkhole into some pork-like mud. Don't hold your breath for that one, but there's always hope.

"Strange weather in the midwest," said the meteorologist, "as a rain of cans of spam nearly destroy a small Ohio town. Back in a minute with video and an on-the-scene report from Bob Weinstein."

Anyone see that story?

See it? I lived through it. Now I'm too scared to open my email.

Why does McDonald's need a secret sauce? Does the NSA know?

 

[Mattara]

Why does McDonald's need a secret sauce? Does the NSA know?

Well, it is your lucky day, turbo-1. I'm feeling turning-everything-everyone-says-into-something-dirty.

Yes, they know. Heck, they are behind it all.

NSA (National Sodomy Assessment)

The NSA is a subunit within Microsoft (again: microshaft = small..erm..) that deals with fastfood resturants trying to put "secret sauce" into anything. This sauce comes from people when they ejaculate.

ejaculate as in a quote from Sir. Arthur Conan Doyle's A study in scarlet:

"A steady, respectable, middle-aged man, too, on the face of him–all facts which led me to believe that he had been a sergeant.”
“Wonderful!” I ejaculated.
“Commonplace,” said Holmes, though I thought from his expression that he was pleased at my evident surprise and admiration. “I said just now that there were no criminals. It appears that I am wrong–look"

The "special sauce" is actually just a way of mind control. It is "Henchmen # 4" from the hit television serie 24 second season, episode 14 that is the executive of the NSA and secretly control everyone on this planet useing modifides sine-ways that originates from peoples electrical stuff. These modified sine-ways makes people behave as though they were...stupid.

How would you define "stupid"

 

[turbo]

How would you define "stupid"

I'm not smart enought to be able to define "stupid".

Could we wipe out any diseases through global worming?

 

[Mattara]

Could we wipe out any diseases through global worming?

Yes, we can.

The most exposed area to diseases are Africa. I propose that we install hacks on all the supplies that are sent to africa. The hacks would be a dormit and inactive worm, that when eaten, it would make its way trough veins, trough the spine and up to the mastah of teh central nervous system, also known as "teh niarb". From there, the worm would generate little MS anti-spyware babies that would run trough the body constantly, removing any unwanted pathogens and so on. Although it is costly i think we could do it. Ofc MS anti-spyware is a budget version only, but i don't want to waste money

What must a guy do to get an stupid answer to a stupid question ála zoobyshoe (i.e. übercreative)?

 

[jimmy p]

What must a guy do to get an stupid answer to a stupid question ála zoobyshoe (i.e. übercreative)?

Something about needing to spend a lifetime in a brush shelter first.


What kind of brushes does zooby live under?

 

[Livingod]

A paintbrush, toothbrush or an underbrush, I'm not exactly sure.

But then again, who is?

 

[jimmy p]

We know for certain that you aren't. And as a living god, everyone alive was made in your image so therefore no-one. Apart from Bort Volfsson. But he isn't saying anything.

Shouldn't he not be saying nothing?

 

[turbo]

Bort is hereby granted clemency. Boris needs treatment.

Can we agree to disagree? More importantly, can we disagree to disagree?

 

[jimmy p]

Can we agree to disagree? More importantly, can we disagree to disagree?

I thoroughly agree to disagreeing about disagreeing. Or do I? Maybe I disagree with it. Whichever is easiest. Bort would know what I am talking about. Boris would disagree about agreeing with disagreement.

Why are people who agree with disagreeing so disagreeable?

 

[turbo]

People who agree to disagree are pukey wimps. They ignore their god-like abilities to be correct on every subjective issue and are unworthy of their daily sustenance. If you say "tomahtoe", you are an infidel and I will hunt you down relentlessly.

Is shooting a lawyer a bad thing, even if he dies?

 

[jimmy p]

If you say "tomahtoe", you are an infidel and I will hunt you down relentlessly.

Which thread did I say that in I can't remember!

Is shooting a lawyer a bad thing, even if he dies?

I found originally it was a bad thing because you waste bullets. That is why the longbow was invented. You could shoot them at a great distance, like you can with a gun, and the bonus is that you can then go and retrieve your arrow, wipe the jelly off and continue on your merry lawyer hunt.

Why purple?

 

[turbo]

Why not purple? Without purple, we would not have "Smoke on the Water" or Kunta Kinte. I can understand a deep-seated revulsion toward orange or pink, but you have crossed the line on this one.

What is the best/worst way to waste your time?

 

[jimmy p]

What is the best/worst way to waste your time?

I feel it is a combination of doing nothing for a purpose and doing something for no real purpose. Sleeping is a perfect example of time wasting. You do nothing for a period of time and then wake up. All you have done is skip a few hours, by closing your eyes. People who blink however are the biggest time wasters. And then they have the audacity to go to sleep as well. I am just a mere mortal, to properly answer that quetion, talk to someone who blinks.

Why is it called a mouse?

 

[Orefa]

Why is it called a mouse?

It isn't. It is called a rat.

Why is "abbreviation" such a long word?

 

[turbo]

Why is it called a mouse?

OK, do we have to get into etymology here? The word mouse has come down to us from the Germanic "maus", which is the root word from which the fine Mauser firearms company drew its name. I personally own several of their firearms and I can attest to their effectiveness in controlling rodents in the home. The 8mm K98 rifle is a real favorite, but I must point out that I do not live in a apartment building, but a private home. You could have problems with whiners and complainers in an an apartment building.

Why do we have log scales, log-log scales, etc? When I was a kid, the log buyers scaled logs with big wooden calipers and they did not increase the mass of the wood we took to market exponentially, like some of this crazy mathematical stuff.

 

[zoobyshoe]

Why do we have log scales, log-log scales, etc?

I don't know. It is often a tremendous amount of trouble to have to scale a log before eating it, and I'd prefer they breed something more oven-ready.

-------

"I'm shipping out tomorrow." said the young guy in uniform to the lipsticked blonde sitting across the table from him in the big, smokey hall as a brassy swing band blared a Benny Goodman tune from the stage. "They're sending me to...well, I can't say. Loose lips, you know. All I can tell you honey is I'm going to a dangerous place, and may not make it back."

"Got another Chesterfield?" said the girl.

"And I'm a young, healthy guy, as you can see. I got dreams. I got things I wished I could do before it's all over. That's not too much to ask is it, considering I'm putting my life on the line?"

"Got any gum?" asked the girl, examining an extended leg to make sure her nylons weren't bunching up at the ankles.

Leaning over the table to show her the sincerity in his eyes, the young man continued, "See, sweetcakes, I never been with a girl. I mean, in that special way, if you know what I mean. Two weeks: I might be dead with a Kraut bullet in my gut. I don't want to die thinking I missed out on one of life's best things. You and your girlfriends down at the airplane factory, you'll be alright back here. We'll see to it. You'll have your chance at a life and family after this big mess is over. But for me, every day's going to be Russian Roulette. A cute dame like you could give a man like me the night of his life so's he could die happy. I know I never laid eyes on you till an hour ago, but things have to happen fast in these dangerous times. I just got a letter from my Mom yesterday telling me Arnie Hancock from high school got shot down over Krautland last week. Next week, that could be me. I ain't a coward, but I'm scared. I don't mind tellin' ya. I'm going to a place where every one there is only thinking about one thing: puttin' a bullet in me."

He sat back and took a fumbling, nervous puff off his Chesterfield, watching her face as she gazed down at the floor. He saw she was troubled, considering, thinking, ruminating. He couldn't tell if it was just cause of the smoke in the air, but dammed if her eyes didn't look a little teary. He waited.

Finally, she spoke, "Will you write to me every day as long as you're not shot?"

The young man suddenly thought he heard some different music mixed in with the Benny Goodman; a couple of phantom bars of the "Hallelujah Chorus".

------

Did he write?

 

[jimmy p]

Did he write?

He wrote a great many things whilst in the frontline. He wrote many of the world reknowned books on the origin of dinosaurs that wore leather. He wrote long war poems such as "Stop firing those bloody guns at me". He wrote masterpiece novels, the styles copied by many of today's authors.

I was sitting here discussing with 4 members of MENSA and a goat about life after death. We came to the conclusion that Life was a hitman hired to take out the Grim Reaper, and that the Grim Reaper's cape wouldn't taste as nice as grass. Suddenly there was a knock at the door. The candles blew out, and a cold chill entered the room. We cowered in terror for 27 hours using the goats milk for sustenance, and the goat using my curtains. Finally when we built up the courage to light the candles and go downstairs. Upon opening the door we were confronted with a scene. A baby eating pizza and a duck drinking wine from a slipper.

Who's been knocking on my door?

 

[zoobyshoe]

Who's been knocking on my door?

Nothing to worry about. Just a disoriented MP looking for directions back to his London flat. He's eccentric and likes to pose as a pizza/duck/wine/slipper delivery boy on weekends, and sometimes combines that with amateur obstretrics. Anyway, he became disoriented when his delivery van spun around in the mud at a crossroads, and he ended up facing the Big Hitman, Life, square in the arse, and was farted so far off course, so very far from his accustomed masquerading grounds that all he remembered of his past life was the smell of goat and candle smoke, which, since you had both, attracted his confused attention. However, since you didn't answer the door, his critical vote will not be cast in tomorrow's great debate, the issue will go to the opposition, and in two weeks you'll find yourself in a trench outside Dusseldorf surrounded by people who only want one thing: to put a bullet in you.Will jimmy write?

 

[jimmy p]

Will jimmy write?

I thought about the concept of writing while at war, and find it a tad difficult to write anything without a pen or paper, or an address book to see who I could write to. Instead of writing I will relay messages from Dusseldorf to England by blinking in morse code. I will pass the message to a runner, and he (with his address book) will travel to the correct destination and blink the message to my family/friends/zooby.

Is there a better way?

 

[zoobyshoe]

Is there a better way?

Well, I'm surprised you haven't heard of carrier jellyfish, a natural messenger creature that has been employed for this purpose since the time of Seizer's Bollock Wars. They're taken into battle dried, reconstituted with water from the nearest rain filled bomb crater, and sent on their merry way back to the aquarium in which they were raised. They always make it: too low for radar, and too slippery and rubbery to take a bullet. They're relentless, as well, and the message never fails to arrive in a year or two. There's nothing like the site of a nocturnally roving herd of weird, purple jellyfish squitching their way over a battle scarred landscape, dragging a string with an urgent communication for headquarters tied to it. Stalwart Jellyfish! True purple fearless creatures glinting wet in the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air, an inspiration to the downtrodden, tired men to squitch forward like them, to victory. Damn the torpedos! THIS, was their finest hour!

Jimmy forgot about them, didn't he?

 

[jimmy p]

Jimmy forgot about them, didn't he?

Jimmy was aware of them from a long time ago in posts far, far away from this one. However he only thought them to be myths, like the much searched for zooby. However just the thought of these brave purple messenger jellyfish, crossing a battlefield to deliver a message that a morse code blinker or pigeon could not, causes something to stir inside of me.

What is it?

 

[zoobyshoe]

What is it?

It's that sparky, tingly feel when you're surrounded by flying bullets, and angry shrapnel, the stench of cordite, smoke gets in your eyes, you don't expect to be alive for two more minutes, the girl at the dance hall said yes, and every second is a precious moment of sensory exhilaration.

You take out your stub of pencil and scrawl a goodbye note to your mother on the back of a letter from a homosexual seargent at bootcamp who wrote to invite you to move into his hunting lodge after the conflict, despite your having gone over his head to report him, and as you scrape the pencil on a rock to sharpen the tip, a little orphan jellyfish born right there on the battlefield crawls up next to you for comfort and protection.

Unbeknownst to you, and everyone else around, the treaty was signed hours ago, and you all are lobbing grenades and blasting away at each other in a vast folly of magnificent waste.

Just then, a "jerry" rushes you from behind a stone wall. His ammo is gone and he's amok, thinking he'll kill every remaining allied soldier with his bayonette. You look up to see him grinning at you in his mania as he charges with his sharp!pointy!bayonette! sharply pointed at your head.
He's a blind rhinoceros about to skewer you with his horns, without fear or regret.

And who do you think saves you?

 

[jimmy p]

And who do you think saves you?

Actually there was a lot of saving going on. Seeing that I was just about to be charged by a "jerry" soldier, my paternal instinct kicked in and I dived over the baby purple jellyfish, whispering my final message to it before I was to be stabbed, and getting badly stung at the same time. Who saved me was obvious. Our squad's gunner. As I recall he was a blind rhinocerous, who didn't take kindly to people doing impressions of him, and detested people personifying him. He caught wind of "jerry's" intentions and charged headlong just as the bayonet was to pierce my jugular. Whilst the wrestling match between the blind rhino and blind rhino impersonator was going ahead, the baby jellyfish crawled out from under me, and with a parting sting, squitched off to aid the fight. It killed "jerry" so well it brought a tear to my eye, but left me wondering...

Was this fate?

 

[zoobyshoe]

Was this fate?

No. It was "Jerry"fish, the Jellyfish, as he later came to be known, and that was the first of many acts of heroism which earned him his name, made him the subject of lore and legend, several biographies, and two Hollywood films. The first made in 1955, The Tentacled Messenger starred Jelly Cooper, and won an oscar for Best Actor. The second, The Long Squitch Home, was made in 1978, and starred Gel Gibson as the post tramatic stressed "Jerry"fish, struggling to put his life in order and adjust to peacetime after raising himself, all alone, on the front lines of battle. It won the 1981 Jellbel Prize for that years most accurate screen portrayal of a siphonophore. A third version of the brave jellyfishs' life was in the works at one point but it got into the hands of mad director, Ken Russell, who tried to ascribe the raising of the flag on Iwo Jima to "Jerry"fish, as well as the secret rescue of Amelia Ehrhart. Financial backers pulled the plug on that one.

Still, though, I've read the script for the Ehrhart sequence and it was quite interesting: after a long search through leach-infested pacific jungles he finds her in a gold bikini chained to an unbelievably fat Japanese commander with a deep, rumbling voice. After killing the obese strong-man thug, and several hundred Japanese soldiers, he rushes Amelia back to base camp where, after a night of jellyfish love, she's packed off in a transport back to the states, with a time bomb of a surprise inside her, set to go off nine months later, and "jerry" squitches off to Iwo Jima.

Did she ever persuade him to quit smoking?

 

[Livingod]

If I had read your entire post instead of just your question, I might be able to come up with a reasonable answer, but then again, that sort of thing is frowned upon in this thread. So instead, I will improvise an answer as I write (that is why I'm writing so much, it's because I'm still thinking about the answer I am to give you. omg! I found an answer!) and now I proceed to answer your question: No, Philip Morris started it, only Philip Morris can end it.

If philipmorrisusa.com is the site to help you stop smoking, what Philip Morris site helps you start?

 

[zoobyshoe]

If philipmorrisusa.com is the site to help you stop smoking, what Philip Morris site helps you start?

If I'd read your entire quetion, instead of your post, I might be able to scale to the top of the Empire State building holding Math Is Hard in one hand, but that sort of thing is ecouraged in this thread. So instead, I will improvise a scene from a play Shakespeare never wrote, but which he would have if he'd been a Phillip's Morris executive.

If I had posted the entire scene, instead of just announcing my intention to create it, I might be able to ask a new quetion, but that sort of thing is frowned upon in this thread, so, instead, I'm demoting Livingod to "Liver-pod", (that is the reason I'm thinking so much. It is because I am still writing about the quetion I am about to give you. omg! I have lost the quetion!) and now I proceed to quetion your anser:

Could someone please provide a comprehensive definition of the term "liver-pod" ?

 

[turbo]

Could someone please provide a comprehensive definition of the term "liver-pod" ?

Well, it has something to do with unborn infants breathing urine, although I'm not sure this answer is sufficiently stupid to satisfy the goals of the thread.

http://fanac.org/fanzines/Plokta/issue5/liver.htm

Will breathing urine ever catch on amongst adults?

 

[zoobyshoe]

Will breathing urine ever catch on amongst adults?

Not unless you get busy and pioneer it for us! We all look forward to your reports!

Does anyone remember the lyrics?

 

[turbo]

Not unless you get busy and pioneer it for us! We all look forward to your reports!

It's hard lining up research assistants. The lady at the Ford agency keeps hanging up on me.

Does anyone remember the lyrics?

There's a bathroom on the right.

Why did Oliver want more?

 

[jimmie]

Why did Oliver want more?

Because he desired to be with the whole girl. Oliver wanted all of her.

Speaking of reach exceeding grasp, why can't i grasp that it's not possible to reach that which i want to exceedingly reach?

 

[zoobyshoe]

Speaking of reach exceeding grasp, why can't i grasp that it's not possible to reach that which i want to exceedingly reach?

The reason you can't grasp this is because it requires standing with your left side to it, your right side to the setting sun, your right shoe on your left foot, your left shoe in your right pocket, and, on the stereo, in the background, just beneath the threshold of hearing, the soundtrack to The Benny Goodman Story.

Joe approached her just about holding his breath. She'd been alone pretty much the past half hour after the stringy, tall guy had danced with her. For some reason he'd wandered away when they were done. Joe couldn't figure. She was way better than that guy should have expected. Maybe that was it: he realized she was too good for him. Anyway, no one else had moved in, so Joe decided if she'd danced with the limp beanpole she'd surely agree to dance with him.

As he got closer she noticed him coming. It was just a glance, but if she wasn't stupid she'd know there wasn't anywhere else he was aimed but at her. Looking right into her eyes for that second would have stopped him in his tracks if he'd been walking any slower. She was actually cute. Dark brown eyes, dark hair, red lipstick, some sort of bluish colored dress that fit her better and better the closer he got.

Finally, he was there, and she lifted her face to him. He felt strangely calm, committed: "Say, I was wondering if I could ask you for the next dance?"

"Ya could if you wanted!" she said, sassy, and winked. It was the sexiest thing Joe had ever seen. The sexiest thing a girl had ever done right in his direction, on purpose. And at that point something happened to him I can't mention, it being 1940, and such things not discussed. Joe needed time to calm down. "Say, great!" He smiled. "Your quite a card! Hows about I get us some punch, first! Be right back! Stay right there!" and he spun and headed for the punch bowl on the other side of the room hoping his jacket was casting shadows in the right places.

What did Joe think about to calm down?