Ask a Stupid Quetion Get a Stupid Answer

[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?

 

[Livingod]

42.

what ISNT cool about that number? (for those who haven't read Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy)

 

[zoobyshoe]

what ISNT cool about that number? (for those who haven't read Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy)

No, I aint comin' on that tab and don't see why you're blowin' your wig on it. It's a fraughty issue if that's all you got. Latch on, lane:

It's always fair weather
When hep cats get together
And every time they meet
Here's the way you'll hear them greet:

"A hubbah hubbah hubbah,
Hello dad!"

"Well, a'hubbah hubbah hubbah!
I just got back!"

"Wella hubbah hubbah hubbah
Let's shoot some breeze!"
Say, whatever happened to the Japanese?"

"Mmmm..a hubbah hubbah hubbah!
Haven't you heard?"

"A' hubbah hubbah hubbah!
Slip me the word!"

"I got it from a guy who was in the know:
It was mighty smokey over Tokyo!
Friend of mine, in a B-29,
Dropped another load for luck.
As he flew away,
He was heard to say:
'A' hubbah hubbah hubbah!
Yuk! Yuk!'"

Ed had shoulders like a two trucks parked side by side and wanted to use 'em to ram the singers up against a brick wall somewhere. Who wrote this crap? So the Japs went down after all, so what? Ed had never said "Yuk Yuk" after blew pink spray out of two Japs on Iwo Jima. You aim, squeeze, pink spray, they fall. No chuckles. You do it cause if you don't they'll do it to you.

He lit a Chesterfield and sucked. When he went to tap the ash off he was surprised to see he already had two going in the ash tray. Nerves. And they had to sing this crap song. Over the rail that separated the tables from the dance floor he saw that blonde eyeballin' him again. He wanted her, but he didn't know if he wanted to dance with her or pick her up and fling her out the window. Edgy Ed. Came back with a funny kind of temper.
Alot did.

Some came back dead, still walking around on two feet, though. Ed wondered if he might die like that sometime soon. Would the blonde understand how he went back to Iwo every night, why he woke up shouting and clawing the bed to get out of the heavy dirt piled on him suddenly by the mortar round?

 

[Livingod]

Of course. Blondes are really smart and are capable of understanding such things.

Why did I wake up this morning covered in lube?

 

[zoobyshoe]

Why did I wake up this morning covered in lube?

It doesn't matter. You'll always have a high coefficient of friction in my eyes.
-------
Myron Meyer stopped the black convertible in front of the Mt. Etna Italian restaurant very suddenly, as though he'd decided to stop right then and there. But he hadn't. The four huge guys he had with him got out of the car so fast you'd have thought the floor was crawling with rattlesnakes. It wasn't. They were just moving fast on their way to surprise someone before they got too noticed. In a second they were inside. Myron kept his left foot on the clutch and teased the gas pedal with his right, his eyes glued to the front of the joint, ears open wide.

About 15 seconds later the first man came out shoving the Guinea in front of him directing his frantic path to the car by an arm twisted behind his back. The other three came right behind. One suddenly whipped his handkerchief around the Guinea's face and tied it into a gag. Then they all lifted him and shoved him down on the floor in the rear. "Go", said Ira to Myron, getting in next to him. The car lurched from the curb and disappeared around the next left.

"That's the first and last time that's ever going to work, ain't it?" Solly said. "From now on Mr. Spaghetti's going to keep all his number scribblers in a shoe box under his own bed. He won't let nobody pull this again."

"Goes without sayin," Ira answered. "This is a one of a kind."

"So, this is "Little Italy".

"This is it. What, you're saying you never been here? You should come back Saturday night. Try this place up here with the awning. There. That one right there. I had a lasangna there worth killing for once."

"Lasangna? Talk about not kosher. Meat and cheese."

"Shut up. Don't talk to me about kosher. I seen you eat a sausage and eggs breakfast and wash it down with a glass a milk. Shut up, hypocrite."

"Not me. No you didn't. I never ate such a breakfast. Who eats breakfast, anyway? Say, Myron, you ever seen me eat a breakfast?"

"No, I never seen such a thing."

"See, Ira? Myron never seen me eat a breakfast. Hey, Herman, you ever seen me eat a breakfast?" Solly nudged the quiet hulk sitting next to him, but Herman just sat staring blankly ahead. "Hey, Herman. Hey. Watsamattah? You OK?"

Ira turned and looked at Herman. Herman's eyes didn't look right. Looked like they weren't focused on anything. He wasn't blinking. "Check around him, Solly, see if he's bleedin' or something. I didn't hear no shot, though. You hear a shot? "

"Not me," Solly assured him. "I don't see no blood, either. Wonder if he had a heart attack?"

"Oy, Gewalt!" Ira slapped himself in the forehead. "He tol' me once he had a hincky ticker! I thought he was making it up. He's only 28, for Chris' sake. "

"I don't think he's anything anymore." concluded Solly.

"Sheeze." said Ira after a contemplative pause, " All the guys within ten block a here who'd blow his head off if they knew what he just done, and his own ticker does him in. I call that irony."

--------------

What do you suppose Herman had for breakfast?

 

[Math Is Hard]

What do you suppose Herman had for breakfast?

Herman? No tellin'. He got mixed up with that one-strapped dame outta Tuscon with the polygon glint and that double-stitched neon tube-top from the local Walmart. She was heavily into cottonism and subsisted on a diet mainly of stolen hotel towels and q-tips.
Why do you suppose, that in the middle of the night, Herman woke up to find her gone, with nothing left of her but a trace of straggled white lint on the door knob of their hotel room?

 

[zoobyshoe]

Why do you suppose, that in the middle of the night, Herman woke up to find her gone, with nothing left of her but a trace of straggled white lint on the door knob of their hotel room?

Herman was never a fluent conversationalist, and even less than usual on the subject of vegetable fibers. That being her meat and potatoes, they had little in common to talk about over dinners. There's more to a diet than fiber, Herman thought, and didn't appreciate the way she always bound his lime jello in a cocoon of mercerized cotton thread. It was always just a matter of time before she accepted he'd never treat her like the spinning wheel she longed to be mistaken for.

When the one-strapped Tucson Tessie hailed a cab that night and told the driver "Harlem, please. The Cotton Club," she set off on an adventure the likes of which she never expected. On the seat beside her she found a newspaper.

What did the headline say?

 

[Livingod]

"Rotation Of Earth Plunges Entire North American Continent Into Darkness"
Assuming, of course, that the newspaper was The Onion.
---------------
Why don't any of you worship me?

 

[zoobyshoe]

Why don't any of you worship me?

We never received the free, autographed copy of your bible.

Tearing the box open, throwing bits of cardboard everywhere, Dermot dug into the box of potatoes his grandfather had bequeathed him in his will. Rather than potatoes, however, he was horrified to discover it was a case of books Cottonism: The Complete Guide.

Who knew gramps was into that?

 

[Math Is Hard]

We never received the free, autographed copy of your bible.

Tearing the box open, throwing bits of cardboard everywhere, Dermot dug into the box of potatoes his grandfather had bequeathed him in his will. Rather than potatoes, however, he was horrified to discover it was a case of books Cottonism: The Complete Guide.

Who knew gramps was into that?

Well, it sure wasn't grandma. She would have nothing but the finest backseamed nylons for her undergear.

In the 1970's and 1980's, the American Meat and Dairy Councils dominated the decisions on the creation of the famous "food pyramid" for dietary recommendations. How was the American Cotton Growers Association systematically squeezed out of these discussions?

 

[zoobyshoe]

In the 1970's and 1980's, the American Meat and Dairy Councils dominated the decisions on the creation of the famous "food pyramid" for dietary recommendations. How was the American Cotton Growers Association systematically squeezed out of these discussions?

That's the burning quetion, isn't it? The "Urban Legend" version is that cotton is only edible in its carnival candy form, and candy is not food, proper. Mythbusters, however, tackled this legend in it's second season and demonstrated that cotton can, actually, be added in moderate quantities to fast food meat patties and provide all the nutrition currently supplied in those by rat fur. So, I'm afraid the true anser remains to be discovered.

Once when I was preocupuied pulling porcupine quills out of my shin with a pair of needle-nosed pliers, several representatives of The Comittee For The Re-Institution Of The Presidency Of James Garfield approached me and began informing me of recent research that indicated the cause of Global Warming was not, in fact, CO₂ gas, but certain more subtle imbalances in the higher frequencies of the Aether caused by President James Garfield having been prevented from serving his full term in office. Completely persuaded by their remarkable analysis, I signed their petition and gave them each a stick of gum. Just then a crow feather drifted down from somewhere up in the trees above us, and landed on the head of one of their number. What was disconcerting about this was that no crow, proper, was evident up in the trees, nor had we noticed one fly by. I, therefore, made a note in my journal about it: "Crow feather drops from indeterminate source. 08-04-04, 10:22 A.M." One of their number noticed the date as I scribbled, and remarked that 8 minus 4 minus 4 was equal to zero. Unfortunately, my math wasn't up to acertaining whether or not that notion had any validity, so I grunted non-commitally, and handed him a bloody porcupine quill. "Calculate that my friend," I said ominously, "Calculate that." Completely convinced I was way ahead of him, they withdrew from the encounter and disappeared down the path. All in all, I judged I had acquitted myself very well considering I was clenching my teeth in agony the whole time, and I set to extracting the rest of the quills. Little did I realize I was, even in my pain, much better of than a particular crow 237 miles away who was being whipped into a kind of feathery cloud inside a tornado funnel that had caught him and his pals in a grain field outside Desmoines and wouldn't let them go.

Ever been skinny dippin'?

 

[Math Is Hard]

Not by choice.

When I was 17, I was hired to promote a local Chinese restaurant and they sent me door to door to local apartment complexes to hand out brochures. The job required that I dress as a giant fortune cookie, and my costume was lovingly baked by 7 chefs from the kitchen.

Well, wouldn't you know it, as I was on my rounds, I came around the back of one apartment complex into the pool area where a drunken horde of frat boys tossed me into the pool as casually as a wonton into a soup. My sugary costume melted away and I had only the oversized paper-strip "fortune message" from the cookie to wrap myself in as I emerged, sputtering and humiliated, from the deep end.

What do you suppose the fortune said?

 

[zoobyshoe]

What do you suppose the fortune said?

"Those around you will soon become aware of your hidden assets."

Once when I was visiting a Polish aviator of my acquaintance, I was admiring his remarkable collection of stuffed and mounted tequila worms, when he rushed into the room shouting at me to get out fast because his toilet was erupting like a volcano and we were in immanent danger of being trapped and entombed in the pyroclastic flow. I was pretty certain, though, he was simply trying to get rid of me so he could entertain a lady friend of our mutual acquaintance without having to share her attentions with me, I replied, therefore, that I felt I should have a look at the unusual behaviour of his domestic plumbing to see for myself whether I concurred with his diagnosis of vulcanism. Just as I finished speaking a blast of scorching hot air rammed into the room, knocking me against the wall, and this was followed by a blinding, choking inrush of particulate matter such that I was incapacitated.

Don't you hate when that happens?

 

[The Bob]

Don't you hate when that happens?

I dunno. Should it be 'Don't you hate it when that happens?

The Bob (2004 ©)

 

[jimmie]

I dunno. Should it be 'Don't you hate it when that happens?

Uhh...yeah...it should be "Don't you hate it when that happens?", instead of "Don't you hate when that happens?".

"What" is the defintion of "it"?

 

[Mattara]

no what is the definition of the unit of mass

Could purple ever use evil mad monkeys of doom to run the world?

 

[Livingod]

I am prejudiced against certain colors such as black, white, and red. This would probably make me a 'colorist'. But I am also prejudiced for purple, grey, and orange. So I have only one thing to say: "Purple power!11111" and that purple can do whatever it wants if it sets its mind to it.

------------------------------------------------------------

Even though my real, native name indeed means "Living God," how come I am neither living nor omniscient yet?

(You will be glad to know that although I am not omniscient, I am omnipotent. So don't worry about that.)

 

[jimmie]

Even though my real, native name indeed means "Living God," how come I am neither living nor omniscient yet?

I am, it's just that you are not aware of it, yet.

Speaking of what you are, which in reality is were, I thought, and, there seems to be, more often than not, little opportunity, for you, and others, to call a time-out, required in b-ball, for all subs to be made, and pause, to contemplate, that which you are not.

So, why is it that some subs taste better toasted?

 

[Mattara]

well, atleast i think that the subforum "brain teasers" taste better raw.

Why are the tellitubies scary?

 

[jimmy p]

Probably something to do with the fact that they eat goat curry for breakfast.

What haven't I missed in the last week or so?

 

[Mattara]

A big disc hitting the "post reply" button and now it can never have any children...

What will the "quote" button do now?

 

[jimmie]

What will the "quote" button do now?

Provide enough spam, from solicitors seeking your money for the job to do whatever, to choke a horse.

Speaking of horses, what is spam made from?

 

[Math Is Hard]

Spigs, what else?

I went for my routine check-up this morning. The doctor said that I had a heart of gold, a silver tongue, a mercuric wit, nerves of steel, and a cast-iron stomach. Do you think chelation therapy is in order?

 

[zoobyshoe]

Do you think chelation therapy is in order?

I don't know what "chelation therapy" is, so I'm going to assume "chelation" is just what it sounds like: chuckling with elation, and recommend you take it easy with that. People will start whispering about you.

Did you hear Math Is Hard whisper, whisper, whisper, Math is...whisper, whisper...whisper, whisper?

 

[Livingod]

No, I heard that whisper, whisper, Math, whisper, whisper, goat died, whisper whisper, went to Calcutta, whisper, whisper, whisper, whisper, pajamas.

Why is my post count stuck on 41 for the past few months?

 

[jimmy p]

No, I heard that whisper, whisper, Math, whisper, whisper, goat died, whisper whisper, went to Calcutta, whisper, whisper, whisper, whisper, pajamas.

Why is my post count stuck on 41 for the past few months?

Because the mentors are secretly hoarding your posts. Every month they share them out evenly which is why mentor posts are so high and yours (and mine) are so low.

How does a zoobie get power into his brush shelter?

 

[jimmie]

How does a zoobie get power into his brush shelter?

With a 100' extension cord plugged into a currant bush.

Speaking of plants, does a mathematician's plants have square roots?

 

[penguinraider]

No, theyr'e fractals.

Why am I a nerd?

 

[Mattara]

You are not a nerd. N.E.R.D being short for never-ever-relating-dancer

Why do I always come up with lame abbr.:s? (Azur-bandana-band-rackets)