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The Random Text Says: "" Mock the President, Mock the President! March 20th, 2001 - 2:42 p.m. I'm Currently Avoiding:Wow. They finally fixed the clock and things here. Of course, now the date is a month off (February? I don't think so!), but the clock is finally right...instead of umpteen hours ahead like it used to be. Now I just have to change different things instead. Less work for me...whee! Well, not really. I guess it's about the same, proportionally. Wow...proportionally is a big word. (And I just noticed this? Crackhead.) I guess I'm going to do this now as opposed to later, when there are other things, like Buffy to do and watch too. Yeah...today, March 20 is ....... Proposal Day and Festival Of Extraterrestrial Abductions Day (Ha. I propose that we follow the nice Extraterrestrials and do what they say, or they might do something horrible to us. I can't believe they actually celebrate being abducted by an alien...isn't that supposed to be a bad thing? Or am I wrong? Maybe my experience with the friggin cows and the UFO sheep with aviator helmets and guns just made me cynical.) Come dancing....that's what they said when I was just a kid...come dancing, that's what my sister always did. Still don't know where you're going, you're still just a face in the crowd... You were born in the city, concrete under your feet. It's in your blood, it's in your roots, you're a man of the streets. (I love music medleys from time to time) All I needed was the love you gave, all I needed for another day, and all I ever knew, only you. Sometimes when I think of her name, when it's only a game, and I neeeeeeed you. I eat cannibal. It's incredible. It let out the animal, in me. I eat cannibal. Blinded by the light, something something something....blah blah blah..I don't really like this song, moving on! If you're down, and confused. And you don't remember, who you're talking to. Concentration, slips away. Cause your baby is so far away.... But I ain't never seen nothing like you. Do you do you want my love? Do you, do you want my love? But Iiiiiiiiii never had nothin' like you. Hangman is comin down from the gallows and I don't have very long. The jig is up....they've finally found me. Yeah. Did I have anything actually planned which I wanted to talk about? Ummm...there's that whole commerical ad thing, but I might do that one later. What else? Well, there's always, rack (n. RAWK) 1 : a framework for holding fodder for livestock 2 : an instrument of torture on which a body is stretched 3 : a framework or stand on or in which articles are placed
Rack is sometimes used where its homophone wrack would be more usual, and vice versa. But beware -- there are language critics who would stretch you on the rack for such uses. The noun wrack and the verb wrack are etymologically related to wreck and are usually used to describe wreckage and destruction (as in "wrack and ruin" and storm-wracked). Rack, on the other hand, comes from the Middle English word rekke or racke, which is probably from the Middle Dutch rec (framework). Like wrack, it can be a verb as well as a noun; the verb rack means "to torture on a rack," or more figuratively, "to strain or torment" (as in nerve-racking and "racked his brain"). Since I seem to be doing a reprisal of all the little additions I've copied and pasted in recent times, I might as well stick in news snippets too. How many, I don't know, but some...with comments, of course. Hmmm...fish first or Bush-mocking? Fish I think. Bush mocking is always best for dessert. Something fishy: Swedish scientists announced last Wednesday that, after watching 117 pairs of trout couple in an aquarium, they've concluded that female brown trout regularly fake orgasms. The female trout deceived males on 69 occasions, which could be an insurance policy against male infertility. The more orgasms a female trout faked, the more males would have deposited sperm when she finally released her eggs. This begs the question: Can a federally funded U.S. National Academy of Sciences' study be far behind? Ha. Ummm...does this say something about the ego of male fish? Can it be applied universally? 69 occasions? Hmmm...sexual references abound in the fish world apparently. Moving on. Can't have people, thinking we're not sheltered, now can we? President Bush reportedly has withdrawn from cyberspace after lawyers warned him that any future e-mails could be made public. In a farewell computer message to 42 "dear friends" and relatives, including his mother, Barbara, Bush said: "My lawyers tell me all correspondence by e-mail is subject to open record requests. Since I do not want my private conversations looked at by those out to embarrass, the only course of action is not to correspond in cyberspace. This saddens me. I have enjoyed conversing with each of you." Bush then "sadly" signed off, adding: "I will miss your ideas and encouragement. So perhaps we will talk by phone." The London Times reported the e-mail message and addressees were obtained by the New York Times. Under government regulations, White House e-mails form part of the federal presidential record and could be subject to subpoena. Bill Clinton never sent e-mails during his presidency for fear that they could be used against him. But e-mails from Monica Lewinsky formed part of the evidence gathered by prosecutor Kenneth Starr. He Enjoyed talking with his relatives? Including his mother? Ummm...he must have a less dysfunctional family then most then. To be honest, we don't need his private conversations to embarass him, his public ones are quite sufficient. And aren't telephone conversations part of the presidential record too? Weren't the records of presidential conversations part of Nixon's thing? More examples of Bush idiocy...yippee. Be afraid, be very afraid. Between the statistics of Congress and the new President, it might be a very rough four years. Feeling lucky? Choose an Entry At RANDOM! Yes. Random. Randomosity is cool...come on, you know you want to... Well, if you don't subscribe to peer pressure, then just go Back or Forward with the Dragons below:
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And I like it that way.
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