- #2,906
zoobyshoe
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Those are the illustrated instructions that Mr. Robin Parsons left me for finding the T.o.E. in the event anything should happen to him. I've been too embarrassed to carry the instructions out because they involve a strange dance in which you must flap your arms like a bird, as depicted in the central figure, and you must also apply facial makeup to resemble a cast member of "Cats" as illustrated in the step by step drawings at the bottom. I don't feel knowing the T.o.E. merits this sort of trouble.Math Is Hard said:What does this drawing mean?
Recently when I was in the large NBC building in N.Y., there to be interviewed in conjunction with my new book A Zoobie's Eye View of the Current Politico-Botanical Crisis in Rural Droolomenia, I happened to stumble into the wrong studio and found myself being interviewed instead on the subject of the current dangerous fad of self-immunization. Apparently today's troubled youth has discovered the thrills of injecting themselves with any kind of killed virus they can lay their hands on and innoculations against small pox, large pox, medium pox, one pox, two pox, red pox, blue pox, and so forth, are selling for as much as $5 an injection on inner city street corners, at raves, and even on schoolyards.
I held forth on this subject, about which I knew nothing, for 10 minutes by telling a string of invented stories about kids who'd been arrested in the act of self immunization behind dumpsters, in alleys, in old quarrys, and with each story I ascribed younger and younger ages to the miscreants, for dramatic effect, untill, when I was about to relate the sad tale of a five year old girl rushed to the ER after she accidently hit an artery while trying to innoculate herself against the flu, I was interrupted by the host who announced it was time to field quetions from the audience.
I pointed to a young, deranged looking man in the front row who was waving his hand at me like an oriental fan. "Yes?'" I said.
"Well", he said, "What would think my response would be...when looking at the name of this thread?"
Just then, the real assistant director of the CDC stumbled into the studio, pointed accusingly at me and shouted "That is an IMPOSTER!"
Rising majestically from my chair to my full height of eight feet, I raised my long arm, pointed back at him and declared, accusingly, "That man is RIGHT!"
Hypnotized by the tone of my voice, two burly studio security guards jumped on the assistant director of the CDC, wrestled him to the floor and handcuffed him, while I slipped out a side door and took the elevator down to the commssary.
What's the special today?