My Newest Policy
From now on, or until I decide otherwise, whichever occurs first, I will respond to every comment on this blog. Of course, if your comment is weird or involves links to articles I've already read and dismissed as "crazy talk" or "liberal" or "liberal crazy talk" or "Uri Geller-bashing liberal crazy talk" , I will erase your comment instead, and then phone all of your friends and tell them that you think they're terrible parents. If your friends haven't any children, I will tell them that you are waiting for them to have children so that you can eat them. "Carl wants to eat our future children?!?" they will shout, as they spring from their chairs and run in tiny circles, thereby winding the phone cord around their abdomen. "With expensive and unusual mustards from small village gift shops," I will whisper, as if you were in the next room.
22 Comments:
No, I cannot believe it. Who could believe such a thing? Seeing is believing, unless what you see is what you get and you refuse to believe you'll ever get anything. So? What if you never get anything? At least you have your health, or your memories, or memories of your health, or healthy memories, or so I hear. I believe everything I hear. Do you hear me?
Before the year is out I will be grandfather as well, and I don't even have a child yet, or a wife, or a girlfriend. Beyold the power of stem cells!
Bashing is what that charlatan needs. Once, he offered to charge the batteries in peoples' appliances if they would hold them up to the TV whilst he performed some mumbo-jumbo. Did my Gameboy magically revivify? It did not. The swine. I have not trusted a mystic since. Or Nintendo for that matter.
Misspent - Maybe while you're waiting for your stem cell progeny to materialize you could kill some time doing crimes. "Do some crimes while you're young. After your lab specimens mature, you'll be too busy with paperwork to do all the crimes you dreamed of when you were young," my grandfather once told me over a gigantic potato pastry. Then he cut into the pastry and doubloons poured out onto the table. I think he was trying to teach me something about law and finance, but I wasn't really paying attention, as I had just received a Western Barbie. By depressing a dealie on her back, you could force her to wink. She had heavy blue eyelids that never fully returned to their sockets. You had to push them back in yourself. Imagine my dismay.
Rob - Do tell. It worked for my walkman. In fact, I haven't had to change my walkman batteries since he worked his amazing screeny magickery. Granted, I have not listened to my walkman since he worked his amazing screeny magickery, as I've lost interest in music. I am now solely interested in macrobiotic cookery and all-natural stain removal.
I met Uri Geller once. He smelled like fish sticks and kept touching my shoulder. Kind of uncomfortable.
I tried to steal his jacket when he went to the restroom.
I tried responding to all comments once. But there comes a time when it is undeniably necessary to snort with derision and heartily ignore. Especially when some wordy fellow (who really needs his own blog) uses up three full haloscan word-count limits to make his point.
Plus I've found it is much more fun to change the words when one such shows up to spew their nonsense, thereby transforming their mere nonsense into highly amusing nonsense.
Of course this makes them most wroth, which is very amusing in its own right!
Cat. Mouse. You know the game. Heh!
Adolfo – This comes as no surprise to me. Remember when you tried the same thing with Gorbachev? “That’s not the sort of perestroika I had in mind!” he shrieked, and lunged for the jacket, but you had already tucked it under your hat. Oh, how we roared.
Kris – I would be honored if you would talk crazy about liberals here, particularly when such talk has no bearing on the topic at hand. Just throw stuff out. You know, like here’s a post about a man who lives in a hollow oak and has to sleep standing up, until one day the owls get him. YOU comment “Al Franken is flatulent!” or “Ouch, my taxes hurt!” Alternatively, you could continue your lurking strategy.
Desert Cat – Thank you for your words of warning. I haven’t the means to tinker with the comments of others, or I would have done so by now. And how. I, too, enjoy a good wrothing! Truly, there is nothing like it in this world.
Uri Geller COULD NOT bend spoons with his brain. The spoons bent themselves, as spoons are full of kinetic energy, as everybody knows. Most spoons don't bend themselves, though, because then they don't get any soup. Yes, I said, kinetic energy. Not pathetic. That, sadly, is something else.
Uri Geller is a vegan. Vegans don’t use kinetic spoons. I think you know why.
I understand perfectly everything that is said here. You may think that odd, but you've shown that you think many odd things. Don't worry, some day you'll get even. Until then, allow your resentment to fester and grow. That's my policy, and it's free.
PS: You invited me to type "dxjyyhsr" -- what species of word is this? Perhaps I was hasty, and your resentment is now fully-grown, and ready to eat.
I do not “think many odd things.” Are you a spy? Because you talk like a spy. Get out of here, spy. Go back to Russia.
Spies I can abide better than provacateurs. Before I could share my useful advice, your infernal iron-mongery insisted that I create a "blog." This I had sworn I would never do, because it is well known that blog-persons ineluctably descend into screeching, salivating madness.
But the good news is that now I have a justification. You have done me a great service.
PS: Your machine wants another of those spy words - "tumvhqdk." I suggest that your suspicions are misdirected. The enemy within, and all. Keep your guard up.
Uri Geller is not a vegan. In February of this year, I arrived at the Silver Spoon Tea Room in Harrogate, North Yorkshire, to find Geller sharing a home-made pork pie with Michael Jackson - the pop music star. The musician seemed distracted, he left much of his share of pie. Geller was stuffing his face in rather an airy manner. The spoon upon his saucer was unbent.
For the record, Esther, I am not a spy. Nor have I ogled drying laundry for tawdry pleasure.
But I've already told my all my friends they are bad parents! Or at least, they used to be my friends... not a single one of them saw the humor in me teaching their children that red was green and green was red. And then that stupid Natalie had to go and get hit by that bus when crossing the street while singing "Cross on the green and not in-between" to herself. Like it was MY fault! You would have thought I was DRIVING the bus by the way they acted!
Shane - I know you're not a spy. In fact, you're like a spiritual advisor to me, but without the appalling odor. However, if Uri Geller isn't a vegan, then why did he say "The best part of being a vegan is the purity and peace of mind one experiences and the strong connection I feel to the animal kingdom"? I bet Marlin Perkins ate cheese without compromising his connection to the animal kingdom. Hell, we all eat cheese without compromising his connection to the animal kingdom. I, for one, am going to have some stilton right now.
Oh, Marlin Perkins... Marlin Perkins, Marlin Perkins.
Charlotte - Stupid Natalie! She was rather enormous.
In America, good clothes are generally cheaper but few people wear them. Whereas in Britain, good clothes are generally not as cheap as in the U.S. and people still don't wear them. Why don't people wear good clothes?
If I was from Connecticut, would that make me an anti-Semite?
Some children -- the beefier ones, usually -- call for horseradish.
This is simply too much. When do you find time to gather firewood? As winter is approaching I would rather you spend your time gathering firewood than responding to comments.
You write as though you will holiday in Bermuda.
True fact: Many years ago I worked at a radio station that broadcast the Art Bell program. Uri Geller was on and talking about healing appliances. Later in the show, they took a call from a guy who claimed that just having Uri Geller on the radio had made the headlights on his 82 Jeep suddenly start working.
Uri Geller, ah there was a time... but we had such a falling out after the Easter egg hunt incident at Miss Cleo's back in `98. I've since turned my attentions to The Amazing Kreskin. May I send you a pamphlet?
Whew! Now I feels safe to leave a comment.
Home mograges are a hop topic these days (though uttery unrelated to the post I'm commentiong on) and I'm sure youre just dying to visit my site at vvv.malware-r-us.blah ...sound familiar?
I got a lot of that recently until I turned on the text verification feature; would be nice if it were on by duhfault, but there are.
Glad to see your blog is kickin' it was well as ever!
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