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Giant Stool Blowout!
Did you see Jay Leno last night? He was doing his headlines and newspaper ads segment that he does occasionally. One of the items he displayed was a full-page advertisement from some U.S. paper for a sale at a furniture store. The 72 pt Type read:
GIANT STOOL BLOWOUT!
GoD
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A couple of weeks ago, while on a book-buying trip to Bellingham, WA, a friend and I got into a disagreement (no fisticuffs, just a little hair-pulling and biting) about genetically modified food. He was vociferously against altering the genetic structure of food in any way, shape, or form.
I have no qualms whatsoever about such scientific endeavors. I do think that food, which has been modified, should be labeled as such (so the people who are bothered by it can steer clear). However, I would gladly purchase such items. One does tire of seeing one's meat spoil! (Besides, it is a well-known fact that grocers send their rotting fruits and vegetables to the health food stores where the items receive "organically grown" stickers and the prices are then tripled.)
Does anyone of this forum know of any books available on home genetic food modification? It seems that if one were able to do it oneself, one could finally rest easy, and stop referring to oneself as "one."
One final question: was Martha Stewart ever genetically modified? She seems so... "modulated".
GoD
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I have a question. Why is it that I often see people referring to, and quoting from, posts to this forum that I've never seen? Do others experience this? I don't have a filter set on anybody.
I've been meaning to comment on this for some time, but have been deterred by more important matters.
Any help in this matter would be greatly appreciated.
Thanks,
Glands of Destiny: Some day we'll look back at these times and probably be embarrassed as hell...
maybe they are just responding and pulling text to a message that was sent only to them and not the news list AND them... I know I've received responses to lots of things that never made this list. - Annie
Annie,
I think you're right. That darn John Wiser tried to trick everyone into believing in reverse screening. When he starts sounding logical, you KNOW it's time to up the dosage on your medication. Remember: The Duchess Can Be Quite Savage When She's Angry.
Have fun at work,
Glands of Destiny: The Bookstore Floating in a Bubble in Cyberspace
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*If I send you scans of my ass can you check my prostate? --Mike*
You betcha' Mikey. Painless (but expensive). Dr. V.
Excuse me "butting" in, but I just had to say that this exchange reminded me of a cute cartoon I saw three weeks ago in the New Yorker. A guy is in his proctologist's office. The proctologist is removing his glove (having finished the exam). The patient asks him, "Does this mean that I'm your bitch?"
All of the above comments had me fondly reminiscing about one of my favorite scenes from "The Simpsons." Homer is being abducted by slobbering one-eyed aliens who have morphed into Bob Dole and Bill Clinton. Once on the spaceship, Homer says: "I suppose you want to probe me. Well, you might as well get it over with." The robe is about to begin, when one of the creatures raises a tentacle and shouts: "Stop! We've reached the limit of what rectal probing can teach us!"
I mean, as if...
GoD
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I don't know how many of you get as upset about this as I do, but I'm getting very tired of seeing the media refer to booksellers as "bookdealers," or, worse, "bookpushers."
Glands of Destiny: Bookpimps on the net
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I used to think all drain cleaners were the same--until I tried Liquid Plumber.
It goes down smooth. It leaves your breath minty-fresh. And, best of all, there's no chalky aftertaste.
Try it...You'll see...
Glands of Destiny: Still searching HARD for answers from within...
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I was just sitting here thinking about how much more fun petting zoos would be if they had cute people there instead stupid baby goats. I mean... What kind of pervert would want to be alone in a pen with a barnyard animal?
Fellas, tired of "admonishing the dictator" in the same old fashion?
Well, here's a revolutionary idea!
Sit on your left hand until it falls asleep. Then...do it with that hand!
It'll feel like someone else is choking your P.M. There's no need for outsiders. You're the boss now!
Hope it helps,
Byeeeeeeeee...
Glands of Destiny: Wankers, Spankers, and Oil
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When it comes to going on plane trips to faraway book fairs, I've got no complaint with the normal order of things. It's only natural that the people paying the exorbitant "first class" fares get to board (and leave) the plane first, sit closer to the exits, get more comfortable seats, and better service.
That makes sense!
But for the life of me, I can't understand why the pilot and the navigator get to sit up in the front of EVERYONE on the plane. WE are the PAYING the customers! Why should we take a back seat to them?
Excuse me for spouting off, but it's been a long flight....
Besides, what is truth, anyway? Is it chained to a rock? Is it tied to a tree? No....It has WINGS! And it can FLY!
GoD
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I used to have a dog, named "Tippy."
He was the cutest little Golden Retriever. Tippy died. He was killed by a pickup truck. The man driving the truck had one arm. I'm still searching for him.
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The leads are growing slimmer everyday, now.
Tippy was killed in 1962. I'm still confident I'll find his killer. The truck was blue.
Glands of Destiny: No Turn Unstoned
I heard a radio commercial today for the latest, miracle, quick-fix weight-loss drug. Side effects include: "frequent bowel movements and inability to control them"
Right...as if any of us have the ability to control them now!
Dream on.
Thank God For Depends.
GoD: The plot thickens...as we speak...
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