Ask a Stupid Quetion Get a Stupid Answer

[honestrosewater]

What's the over/under on how long the "Should we eat meat?" thread lasts?

Until it ends- over someone's dead body, under suspicious circumstances.

Has anyone ever actually seen a chicken cross a road?

 

[Gokul43201]

Has anyone ever actually seen a chicken cross a road?

I have. I was walking down the street (not really on the street, but you get what I mean) when I noticed Colonel Sanders on the other side, greedily eyeing something crossing the road towards him. Stupid chicken !

Feeling an urge to rescue the chicken from the grim fate that was drooling at it, I decided to try and distract the Colonel.

"Colonel, there's a bear behind you ! ", I screamed. No effect.

Next I tried, "Fire in the hole", but that didn't work either.

After several such unsuccessful attempts, during which time the chicken had made little forward progress, I gave up and asked the Colonel, "Why did the chicken cross the road ?". Immediately the Colonel's head snapped in my direction, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

What did the Colonel say next ?

 

[hypnagogue]

What did the Colonel say next ?

He exclaimed effusively, "I'm lickin' this gross toad because it let's me see God!", whereupon he turned and went on his way with a positively giggly Ronald McDonald.

If God were a chicken, could he create a road so long that he couldn't cross it?

 

[honestrosewater]

If God were a chicken, could he create a road so long that he couldn't cross it?

It is logically impossible for God to be a chicken; that is to say, there are no metaphysically possible worlds wherein God can be a chicken.

Who wants ice?

 

[franznietzsche]

Not me, they don't give you ice in hospitals so it must be bad for you.

They give you bedpans in hospitals not toilets. Does this mean toilets are unhealthy and we all should use bedpans on a daily basis?

 

[madcat11]

They give you bedpans in hospitals not toilets. Does this mean toilets are unhealthy and we all should use bedpans on a daily basis?

Don't 'should yourself up' on that one - when it comes to bodily functions, it's a black and white concept - yes/no - right/wrong. Tile, sinks, commodes - all black and white. Yes, indeed.


However, when we have a little temperature, are we a little unhealthy?

 

[franznietzsche]

However, when we have a little temperature, are we a little unhealthy?

I don't have little things so i wouldn't know.

Have you ever lived in commodius cakes of the pan?

 

[franznietzsche]

I don't have little things so i wouldn't know.

Have you ever lived in commodius cakes of the pan?

Many times.

Am I allowed to respond to myself in order to save this thread?

 

[The Bob]

Am I allowed to respond to myself in order to save this thread?

Yes. Many times I have done the same but people are just not taking an interested in it anymore. I think this thread has a future but people are just being lazy and giving short answers, which means it is boring to read and boring to write in. It needs to be more exciting but Jimmy P and others of that hilarious status are not posting here at all. Really do need some funnier people to post here because then it might take off again.

What sort of people do we want here?

The Bob (2004 ©)

 

[madcat11]

What sort of people do we want here?

The Bob (2004 ©)

Many times, after writing a particularly boring reply post, I've sat, staring at the screen, thinking, "this will never be responded to," and have longed to reply to myself - a thing I do in my thoughts, or when I'm alone, regularly (meaning, of course, that either I am thinking or alone but not both...) - but would forgo that action thinking, "that would be dumb," only to realize that - NO - it would not be dumb at all - and, even if it were, well, this is an 'ask a stupid quetion' forum anyway, and how could that sort of thing be incorrect when - in fact - it actually HAS been done just this page(!) so it is now an acceptable procedure and - YES - this could be MY forum - no boring or lazy people, asking and answering stupid quetions - only me, yes me, asking and answering myself - carrying on for pages and pages on end, a veritable self-love-fest for my eyes alone!

Am I cool or what - no, wait - why does cool, have a redface and why is redface, pink?

 

[madcat11]

Am I cool or what - no, wait - why does cool, have a redface and why is redface, pink?

It's actually cooler to be red (just ask any ex-communist author...).


Why is it that 'what' makes sense, but so does 'tahw'?

 

[franznietzsche]

Why is it that 'what' makes sense, but so does 'tahw'?

because 'thaw' is what in an alien tongue from the planet of acixelsyd, which for some reason all humans seem to understand.


Should we worry about when the scixelsyd will invade earth, possibly, as they would say, gniyortsed us all?

 

[zoobyshoe]

Should we worry about when the scixelsyd will invade earth, possibly, as they would say, gniyortsed us all?

The O.S.D (Oxford Scixelsyd Dictionary) defines gniyortsed thus: the exceptionally pleasurable process whereby homonid entities are induced to sprout straws, paper napkins, sugar packets, and other disposable restaurant items, from between their toes. Worry, therefore, should probably be considered a matter of individual choice.


There I was at the cafe La Souris Perdu; on my right a baby-faced sloe-eyed blond, so reefer crazed that her blue eyes were mostly red, on my left, a sturdy, butch-dike lesbian Bondage and Domination mistress explaining to me that the lashes of her barbed whips weren't about the pain but about the domination, as she tried to push a copy of the underground B&D classic "Shirley! You're Choking Mr. Feynman!" into my hands.
I smelled the spicey sweet reak of MaryJane on nearly everyone's breath as people ambled past me, to and from the counter (where the same watered down, generic coffee was served from several different thermos jugs under different fictitious names). Hep negro jazz buzzed and twisted throught the air from the live trio on the little stage in a far corner: a constant assault on my moral fiber, and a constant prophylactic against anyone else growing any.

All this overt vice was small potatos, though. I was here for the big stuff. Six months of training and cultivation behind closed doors in an underground bunker at area 51 is what it had taken to prepare me for this exceptionally delicate field assignment: undercover information gathering for the House Committee On Un-Jellitivistic activities.

Word was that a small cadre of anti-jellitivists was meeting here at irregular intervals to coordinate their lavender activities and, worse, to proslytize among the impressionable youth that frequented the establishment. I'd been haunting the place for weeks, passing myself off as a disgruntled ex-jellyphysics teacher, throwing out hints that I might have been fired from my last position for certain, unspecified, unorthodox beliefs. So far, no bites. All I could do was to keep my ears open, gravitating to within earshot of any conversation from which I'd picked up the words "weird", "Alfred", "electrodynamics", or "jelly".

Round about midnight on that disturbing eve, I heard something in the periphery of my hearing that just about made my brain short out from exitement:

"...so, in spite of the fact that the Principle of Purpularity has a sound basis in Jellileian physics, Alfred E. had to have made the most absurd mistake he possibly could have made to postulate that the speed of weirdness was the same for all jellyfish in all inertial frames..."

The speaker, I saw, was a middle aged, pencil-necked, twerp, with a short beard, big glasses, and grey temples. I recognized him instantly from the mugs I'd studied, and he was even wearing his trademark navy-blue pullover sweater. It was the devil himself: none other than the renegade Jelliphysicist Professor J.P. Scooty, Ph.d., who'd taken to poisoning the fresh, young minds of America's youth against Jellitivity after a claimed "epiphany" he'd experienced during a severe beating by a herd of nocturnally roving, weird, purple jellyfish he'd met in a dark alley.

Listening to his demented, unjellitivistic ranting wasn't what brought me to my knees, however. No, that wasn't the body blow that had me crawling out of the place on all fours. I didn't notice, at first, who it was on the other side of the insane professor, half hidden from my view. It wasn't until he had uttered several more of his subversive remarks and stepped back to punctuate with a grand gesture that I got a gander at the dame's face: The Lovely Miss Sally O'Malley!

Sally O'Malley! The vivaceous, sparky, effervescent Sally O'Malley; princess of this lost world, whose arrival made grown men jump for joy, and whose departure made them weep. Singer and raconteuse, she popped in each night about 10 and sang scat like a negress with the trio, then did about a 15 minute humorous monolog in a skin tight dress slit up the side. Born of Minnesota farmer, she'd grown up to be a charmed charmer: The Fascinating Miss Sally O'Malley whose sexy sarcasm triggered deafening laughter, heart failure and spontaneous ejaculations. Yes, the men giggled and squirmed with mirth like 5 year old boys pinned down by a much too hot, tickly, babysitter, and all the women wished they were her, or that she was dead. I was smitten hard. They hadn't prepared me for the likes of her at Area 51.

Seeing her on the arm of the center of all things unjellitivistic was like being shot between the eyes, stabbed in the heart, punched in the stomach, and kicked in the groin all at once. Sally O'Malley? A Lavender? How could it be? Despite the cocaine, reefer, methamphetamines, despite the promiscuity for fun and profit, despite the liquor store robberies, and insurance-scam arson surely, surely there must beat within her a heart of pure purple, musn't there?

But there she was, hanging on the arm, and every word of, the twisted lavender intellectual devil.

I crawled out of La Souris Perdu on all fours. I can't have J.P. Scooty rounded up now because when they sweat him he'll name names and one of the names he'll name is Sally's. On the other hand, If I don't have him picked up he will spread The Lavender Word, insidiously, until one day there will be internecine warefare between the Lavenders and the true Purple Guard. "What", as the Bard asked, "should such fellows as I do, crawling between heaven and earth?"

(Notice to Newcomers: This is an exceptionally advanced Stupid Quetion which shouldn't be attempted by anyone not thoroughly versed in Jellitivity. Just because you may be very Stupid, do not assume you are Stupid enough to tackle this Quetion. It would best be left to the exceptionally Stupid, such as Math Is Hard, Plover, or Gokul90210. Thank you. -Zooby)

 

[Moonbear]

I crawled out of La Souris Perdu on all fours. I can't have J.P. Scooty rounded up now because when they sweat him he'll name names and one of the names he'll name is Sally's. On the other hand, If I don't have him picked up he will spread The Lavender Word, insidiously, until one day there will be internecine warefare between the Lavenders and the true Purple Guard. "What", as the Bard asked, "should such fellows as I do, crawling between heaven and earth?"

(Notice to Newcomers: This is an exceptionally advanced Stupid Quetion which shouldn't be attempted by anyone not thoroughly versed in Jellitivity. Just because you may be very Stupid, do not assume you are Stupid enough to tackle this Quetion. It would best be left to the exceptionally Stupid, such as Math Is Hard, Plover, or Gokul90210. Thank you. -Zooby)

Aha! Now we know what Zooby has been up to in his absence.

As a member of the true Purple Guard, and an expert on jellitivity (note the avatar), I've been sent to help you with this dilemma. The Lavenders are an insidious group. The Purple Guard have also been tracking them for sometime, and Sally is no innocent. Indeed, she was single-handedly responsible for destroying the manufacturing of our most useful weapon against the Lavenders, the Grape iMac! Of course only the members of the Purple Guard knew of the full potential of the Grape iMac as we attempted to get them into every home to protect the general public from the brainwashing methods of the Lavenders. Even more insidious, Sally is well-schooled in the Welch Technique, which is undoubtedly what she was using on you that night for you to leave with the illusion she was an innocent being drawn unwillingly into the Lavender fold.

What is the history of the Welch Technique?

 

[Gokul43201]

What is the history of the Welch Technique?

The Welch Technique is the most carefully guarded secret of the Lavenders. It is cleverly named to fool the unlettered mob into believing it is related to that famous icon of come-hitherliness, Rackwell Welch.

How I figured out the true secret is a long story involving my diligent preparation for the day I come face to rotten face with Scooty; an experiment with my microwave; a plasma ball resulting from my experiment with my microwave; the mysterious powers of pyramids; and a grocery store shopping cart with a bottom that was eleven minutes from fatigue-aided corrosion failure at the time that I walked into the store and grabbed it. The upshot of this whole experience was that I unexpectedly came upon the secret of the Lavenders.

The story takes us back to a time when Alfred E didn't exist - no, not even in sittingedanken experiments - nor did his twin brother, Albert.

It all began in 1869, in the little town of Vineland, NJ. where a Doctor Thomas Bramwell and his son, Charlie, were performing insidious experiments with a purple fluid. Some of the effects of this fluid had been studied by earlier scientists like Jelileo, Low Rents, and the most prolific publisher of them all, Et Al. (While the story of Et Al and his nearly Erdos-like collaborations make for a funny, yet sinister tale, to be told while doing Kahlua shots, this is not the time for it. Besides, this is not the time for Kahlua shots.) The best documented effect of the purple fluid was its ability to slow down time, from the point of reference of the fluid consumer. By tweaking the formula of the fluid (this supposedly involved canceling off infinities against negative infinities) Tommy and Charlie appeared to have refuted the time-warping influence of the purple fluid. They believed that imbibers of the fluid would experince normal time, just like a mineworker, or a starhopper or even a patent clerk. They secretly called this process 'The Renormalization of Jellitivity'.

But instead of going public with the findings, the Bramwell family decided to keep the results hidden. Soon, a secret order was created - supposedly comprising all the most famous dissenters of Jellitivity - that was charged with the protection of the secret formula. The most important position in the Order (that called itself The Lords of Lavender) was held by the person responsible for the safeguarding of the actual earthen cauldron containing the primordial fluid created by Bramwells. This person was called the Pottery Magician. It is rumored that the present PM is a pretend cixelsyd called elgoog, and with him lie all the secrets of the Lavenders and the Technique.

Eventually the Lords of Lavender became a powerful, yet secret organization. They created a front for themselves selling an apparently harmless beverage through grocery stores all round the coutry.

While it took me the mere duration of the act of picking up a plastic bottle that fell out the broken bottom of my shopping cart to figure this all out, it is now a whole day since, and I still can't decide what to do about it.

I have two choices : Do I take the lavender pill and lead a life of brainwashed crankery...or do I take the purple pill and pass through the nexus that will let me enter the Swarmschild Matrix with a heart burning to strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield ?

 

[Moonbear]

I have two choices : Do I take the lavender pill and lead a life of brainwashed crankery...or do I take the purple pill and pass through the nexus that will let me enter the Swarmschild Matrix with a heart burning to strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield ?

Clearly a life of brainwashed crankery is beneath you. You must strive for nothing less than the coveted post of PM. To do this, you must follow elgoog's mentoring as he leads you through seemingly endless quests for trivia. Only through these quests will you gain the insight of how that rusty shopping cart will transport 2000 lbs of the purple elixir into the 4-cornered time cube, which is actually the portal into the Swarmschild Matrix. However, don't let elgoog mislead you down the wrong path. He will ask you many times, "Did you mean the Swarm's Child Matrix?" Don't be fooled by this seemingly innocent question, as the Swarm's Child Matrix will lead you far from the true calling of the Purple Guard and into the clutches of Rackwell Welch. Indeed, the Swarm's Child Matrix is better known as the publisher of Masochist Monthly. You'll know you've gone the wrong way if elgoog presents you with the little blue pill instead of the purple pill. Should you stumble in your quest and wind up in the Swarm's Child Matrix, the only way to get out is by dueling the portal guardian, Oohay, using only a mechanical pencil. Yes, indeed, you must be very quick on the draw if you wish to have any chance at all.

However, should you get beyond the Oohay, you'll find clear passage from the Swarm's Child Matrix back to the Swarmschild Matrix. Just follow the plasma glow emitted from the microwaves that light the path.

But, because you'll have entered through a different portal, you'll encounter a gatekeeper at this entrance to the Swarmschild Matrix. You must give the correct password to get past the gatekeeper. Only one person knows the password, how will you find that person and convince them to tell it to you?

 

[Astronuc]

Only one person knows the password, how will you find that person and convince them to tell it to you?

Wait, I know this one.

But in the meantime,

Is this really real?

 

[BoulderHead]

Is this really real?

Not in any conventional sense of the word.


Will anyone here be frank with us?

 

[Gokul43201]

Will anyone here be frank with us?

I'll be Frank, if you'll be Nancy.

Deal ?

 

[BoulderHead]

I'll be Frank, if you'll be Nancy.

Deal ?

Only if you agree to sing a duet with me!


What shall it be?

 

[Werdatothewise]

Clearly a life of brainwashed crankery is beneath you. You must strive for nothing less than the coveted post of PM. To do this, you must follow elgoog's mentoring as he leads you through seemingly endless quests for trivia. Only through these quests will you gain the insight of how that rusty shopping cart will transport 2000 lbs of the purple elixir into the 4-cornered time cube, which is actually the portal into the Swarmschild Matrix. However, don't let elgoog mislead you down the wrong path. He will ask you many times, "Did you mean the Swarm's Child Matrix?" Don't be fooled by this seemingly innocent question, as the Swarm's Child Matrix will lead you far from the true calling of the Purple Guard and into the clutches of Rackwell Welch. Indeed, the Swarm's Child Matrix is better known as the publisher of Masochist Monthly. You'll know you've gone the wrong way if elgoog presents you with the little blue pill instead of the purple pill. Should you stumble in your quest and wind up in the Swarm's Child Matrix, the only way to get out is by dueling the portal guardian, Oohay, using only a mechanical pencil. Yes, indeed, you must be very quick on the draw if you wish to have any chance at all.

However, should you get beyond the Oohay, you'll find clear passage from the Swarm's Child Matrix back to the Swarmschild Matrix. Just follow the plasma glow emitted from the microwaves that light the path.

But, because you'll have entered through a different portal, you'll encounter a gatekeeper at this entrance to the Swarmschild Matrix. You must give the correct password to get past the gatekeeper. Only one person knows the password, how will you find that person and convince them to tell it to you?

If I see it this way, then more confusion has been placed. If Frank becomes Nancy, and Nancy becomes Frank, then the guardian at the gate becomes the holder of the password. Only now he becomes protective of the password because those he once had trust in, are now returning to their altered-ego. For security reasons, the portal has now changed, and before you may enter the new portal, you must prove who you are, and who you were, and who you are now. How do you prove your true identity to the gatekeeper and gain back the trust you deserve?

 

[BoulderHead]

...How do you prove your true identity to the gatekeeper and gain back the trust you deserve?

By singing a duet.

What shall it be?

 

[Werdatothewise]

By singing a duet.

What shall it be?

Your singing voice, thus you becoming "Nancy" will not get you in. Your tone is too high.

 

[Werdatothewise]

Good to see you again, Boulderhead!

"More thought to this later." I am digging down today on paint layers, then I have to scope them to find the original paint on this home from the 1800's. Restoration is fun, but time consuming. I hope the original paint was WHITE!

PS: Bolderhead, good to see you again. I have lotsa time to post as I am turning my interest in other places - such as restoration (ting) old homes. I am loving it. My time is my time, so I can put in as much work as I wish.

 

[madcat11]

What shall it be?

It shall be anything thou wishes.


As I sit here, popping my own purple pill (all alliteration aside...) I wonder... is it necessary now to turn this discussion over to Math Is Hard, Plover, Gokul90210 and Zooby (not being, myself, versed in Jellitivity, although I am acquainted with Swarmschild - in his earlier days, of course...) or, perhaps, should the very essence of the flow of the words be allowed to be turned by the esteemed Werdatothewise into an entirely different state, i.e., no quetion, just answer (?), or shall I just put my feet up on the monitor and let the pill's pull put me in a place of placidity?

 

[madcat11]

... shall I just put my feet up on the monitor and let the pill's pull put me in a place of placidity?

Yes, I think I will go to lake placid.

Where is The Bob when you need him?

 

[Werdatothewise]

Where in the World is The Bob

Where is "The Bob?"

Oh, come on. Too easy.

Bob is at the bottom of the lake.

~Werdas

 

[The Bob]

Where is "The Bob?"

Oh, come on. Too easy.

Bob is at the bottom of the lake.

No! The Bob is here and ready to be random. I thought people had just had enoguh but I see there is an elite few that push on so here I come.

This thread has been going for sometime and I have tried to keep it going and I am, so far, succeeding. What sort of diaster do you think will be needed to stop this thread's existence?

The Bob (2004 ©)

 

[Werdatothewise]

Madcat11, purple pills and wishes

It shall be anything thou wishes.


As I sit here, popping my own purple pill (all alliteration aside...) I wonder... is it necessary now to turn this discussion over to Math Is Hard, Plover, Gokul90210 and Zooby (not being, myself, versed in Jellitivity, although I am acquainted with Swarmschild - in his earlier days, of course...) or, perhaps, should the very essence of the flow of the words be allowed to be turned by the esteemed Werdatothewise into an entirely different state, i.e., no quetion, just answer (?), or shall I just put my feet up on the monitor and let the pill's pull put me in a place of placidity?[/QUOTE]

Don't mind me. I am just sitting here with a 'scope in front of me trying to magnify under my 'scope a few inches of paint to see the original color paint of this old victorian home. (RESTORING). My brain is stretching to capacity as I am challenged. I am still praying that this old home was completely painted in WHITE! I believe no such luck. The gingerbread wood near the roof line (just watch) will be pink and green!

And the second subject, ...
If this causes me to gain "esteem", (see above) well, I could get my psychology teaching books out and do some heavy esteeming if you prefer, and really screw up the minds (put to this thread) where enriched brains are flying out the windows. Once I get into my rhelm of "into" I never know which way my conversation will take me - depends on the subject, my mood, or what Freud said. haha

... more later. ~Werdas'

... see NEW PIC of me

 

[Werdatothewise]

No! The Bob is here and ready to be random. I thought people had just had enoguh but I see there is an elite few that push on so here I come.

This thread has been going for sometime and I have tried to keep it going and I am, so far, succeeding. "What sort of diaster do you think will be needed to stop this thread's existence?

The Bob (2004 ©)

Ans: When you turn the page and find a subject called "Quantum Physics..."

~Werdas'

 

[Werdatothewise]

It shall be anything thou wishes.


As I sit here, popping my own purple pill (all alliteration aside...) I wonder... is it necessary now to turn this discussion over to Math Is Hard, Plover, Gokul90210 and Zooby (not being, myself, versed in Jellitivity, although I am acquainted with Swarmschild - in his earlier days, of course...) or, perhaps, should the very essence of the flow of the words be allowed to be turned by the esteemed Werdatothewise into an entirely different state, i.e., no quetion, just answer (?), or shall I just put my feet up on the monitor and let the pill's pull put me in a place of placidity?

A question can have a single answer: You should answer the thread question if participating is required -wanting you to do so, and you should not do what it doesn't want you to do. Following this simple rule will probably help you earn more PF awards. If you need more specific advice, let's take a look at a few other things that will help you.

Compliance with the P Forum criteria is highly important. You should, you must, read the criteria "first." It's wrong to assume the question has similar criteria to all the other remarks. Every contributor has there own "unique" rules and requirements. This is what makes each one meaningful.

If you find that your remark doesn't suit the post criteria, stop right there! Either change your remark to suit the criteria of the post, or don't apply for any PF awards, now or in the future. Never send a letter complaining to Greg about illogical criteria and asking the original post-owner to change the original post. It may seem to be illogical to you, but it means something to the owner and he has the right to use it. If you don't like the criteria, and the post, chances are your comments will go vomiting way-side by the ocean bend.

Never apply for awards anyway. Just hope for the best. The posting owner will notice that your remark does not suit the criteria of opinion, and it will damage your reputation. Even if he/she doesn't notice, applying for an PF award when you know your opinion does not qualify is unethical.

Therefore in closing, if you are not sure, post anyways. People usually will always find humor in the absured. It helps screw up the mind making life easier.

~Werdas'

 

[Werdatothewise]

A question can have a single answer: You should answer the thread question if participating is required -wanting you to do so, and you should not do what it doesn't want you to do. Following this simple rule will probably help you earn more PF awards. If you need more specific advice, let's take a look at a few other things that will help you.

Compliance with the P Forum criteria is highly important. You should, you must, read the criteria "first." It's wrong to assume the question has similar criteria to all the other remarks. Every contributor has there own "unique" rules and requirements. This is what makes each one meaningful.

If you find that your remark doesn't suit the post criteria, stop right there! Either change your remark to suit the criteria of the post, or don't apply for any PF awards, now or in the future. Never send a letter complaining to Greg about illogical criteria and asking the original post-owner to change the original post. It may seem to be illogical to you, but it means something to the owner and he has the right to use it. If you don't like the criteria, and the post, chances are your comments will go vomiting way-side by the ocean bend.

Never apply for awards anyway. Just hope for the best. The posting owner will notice that your remark does not suit the criteria of opinion, and it will damage your reputation. Even if he/she doesn't notice, applying for an PF award when you know your opinion does not qualify is unethical.

Therefore in closing, if you are not sure, post anyways. People usually will always find humor in the absured. It helps screw up the mind making life easier.

~Werdas'

Someone sent me a PR note on "how" to handle this thread, and go forth. Come on, folks. I was only being factious. (sp) Pha C sh us. I am a far cry from being serious. But, corrections are taken with open arms, so thank you, my PR person who sent me the note. And, Ps: to ya'll. I promise (hand on bible) never to screw up the flow again.

 

[BoulderHead]

Hi Werdas~ (nice to see you back) but...

...having the matter explained does this mean you will eventually get around to asking stupid question for us to answer?

 

[tribdog]

That's a stupid thing to ask. good job.

What are we going to do now, no wait,...NOW?

 

[Moonbear]

What are we going to do now, no wait,...NOW?

Which now? The now when you wrote the quetion, the now when I read the quetion, or the now now as I'm typing the...wait, now, no now, hold on, now... I can't keep up! Nows keep zipping past and I can't make any of them stop!

Okay, since there was a stunned silence for a few days when we last discussed jellitivity, I guess that's too difficult of a topic for most. Besides, I've since stopped infiltrating the Lavenders as part of the Zooby rescue mission, and have joined the PF Sista Hood. Once a year we have a ritual tribdog sacrifice. What's the best food to prepare for the feast following that?