"Success is a journey, not a destination."
~ Bob Droog
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Ice sculptures and farting manatees, the finer points of life!"
~ Emily Gau
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"There it is again. Some clueless fool talking about the "Information Superhighway". They don't know didley about the Net. It's nothing like a superhighway. That's a rotten metaphor.
Suppose the metaphor ran in the other direction. Suppose the highways were like the net...
A highway hundreds of lanes wide. Most with pitfalls for potholes. Privately operated bridges and overpasses. No highway patrol. A couple of rent-a-cops on bicycles with broken whistles. 500 member vigilante posses with nuclear weapons. A minimum of 237 on ramps at every intersection.
No signs. Wanna get to Ensenada? Holler out the window at a passing truck to ask directions.
Ad hoc traffic laws. Some lanes would vote to make use by a single-occupant-vehicle a capital offense on Monday through Friday between 7:00 and 9:00. Other lanes would just shoot you without a trial for talking on a car phone.
AOL would be a giant diesel-smoking bus with hundreds of ebola victims on board throwing dead wombats and rotten cabbage at the other cars, most of which have been assembled at home from kits. Some are built around 2.5 horsepower lawn mower engines with a top speed of nine miles an hour. Others burn nitroglycerin and idle at 120.
No license plates. World War II bomber nose art instead. Terrifying paintings of huge teeth or vampire eagles. Bumper mounted machine guns. Flip somebody the finger on this highway and get a white phosphorus grenade up your tailpipe. Flatbed trucks cruise around with anti-aircraft missile batteries to shoot down the traffic helicopter. Little kids on tricycles with squirt guns filled with hydrochloric acid switch lanes without warning.
NO OFFRAMPS. None.
Now that's the way to run an Interstate Highway system."
~ Jim Wiedman
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Crying is not a sign of weakness, it is a sign of strength, for only a strong person could express their emotions freely."
~ Justin (Diego) Holland
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Today we salute you stressed out pharmacy student. As you sit in your lonely cubical in the library, doped up on starbucks & adderall, you think to yourself, am I ever going to need to know this stuff? The distractions are tempting and you have suddenly diagnosed yourself with ADD along with advanced delusionary schizophrenia with involuntary narcissistic rage. By now you know exactly what everyone is doing because you have checked your buddy list 800 times. Graduation is forever away and your prozac prescription got rejected by the insurance company, So crack open an ice cold bud light just because you'll probably end up in summer school anyways!!!!!"
~ Sarah Williams
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"[Sung to the tune of Neil Young's "Old Man"]
Corn Man take a look at my life,
I'm a lot like you.
I have people that roast me
The whole day through.
Ah, one look at your kernels
And I can tell that's true.
=============
[Sung to the tune of "Piano Man"]
You used to run free Mr. Corn Man
But your laugh-ter is o-ver tonite
For we're all in the mood for a cook-out
You'll taste good with a bur-ger and Sprite
=============
[Sung to the tune of "RocketMan" by Elton John]
He planted me today during daylight
I won't be picked for several months
When I'm picked I'm going to run away
I miss the dirt so much I miss my stalk
It's lonely out in the world
But I'm on a timeles trip
And I think it's gonna be a long longtime
Till they can catch me and process mefor food
I'm not the cob they think I am at thefarm
Oh no no no, I'm the CORN MAN!
Corn Man burning up my kernels out here alone
The farm ain't the kind of place toraise little cobs
In fact it's cold as hell
And there's no one there to raise themif you did
And all this plowing I don't understand
I just sit and watch it five days aweek
A Corn Man, A Corn Man
=============
[Sung to the tune of "Frosty the Snowman"]
Bobby the Corn Man
Was a jolly happy cob
With a silly grin and two button eyes
Yes, his friends just call him, "Bob"
Bobby the Corn Man
Is a fairy tale they say
He could no longer grow but the children know
How he came to life one day.
There must have been some magic in
That old felt hat they found
For when they placed it on his head
He began to see the town.
He went to the city
Where he saw so many sights
Running here and there all around the square
Till the day turned into night
Bobby the Corn Man
Was feel-ing like a winner
That was until, he wandered to the mill
And was creamed into a dinner."
~ Steve Bunyard
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"For the reason that of your despicable habits and boisterous way, we have decidedly, inexplicably are to put you in quarantine Officials have decided upon this equitable fate to be carried out by locking your person in a murky clammy chamber with a collection of rabid flesh consuming, ravenous creatures of various assortments who would cherish in cleaving your body for their lust and aspiration of your warm trickling blood. And as of right now, you must be pondering of what this snippet of a paragraph could possibly mean and are trying to decipher at this very moment with a discombobulated expression on your features. We will enjoy watching your carcass being thrashed and despicably split apart all the while nourishing a plethora of alarming creatures. Your discrepancy of luck is such marvelous pleasure. Have a splendid day."
~ The division of justice and intoxicating pain
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes short again and again because there is no effort without error and shortcomings, who knows the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at best knows in the end the high achievement of triumph and who at worst, if he fails while daring greatly, knows his place shall never be with those timid and cold souls who know neither victory nor defeat."
~ Theodore Roosevelt
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"The thing I hate most about advertising is that it attracts the bright, creative and ambitious young people, leaving us mainly with the slow and self-obsessed to become our artists. Modern art is a disaster area. Never in the field of human history has so much been used by so many to say so little."
~ Unknown
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"A Father's Grief
It must be very difficult
To be a man in grief,
Since "men don't cry" and "men are strong,"
No tears can bring relief.
It must be very difficult
To stand up to the test,
And field the calls and visitors
So she can get some rest.
They always ask if she's alright
And what she's going through.
But seldom take his hand and ask,
"My friend, but how are you?"
He hears her crying in the night
And thinks his heart will break.
He dries her tears and comforts her,
But "stays strong" for her sake.
It must be very difficult
To start each day anew.
And try to be so very brave-
He lost his baby too."
~ Unknown
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"IS THERE A SANTA CLAUS?
As a result of an overwhelming lack of requests, and with research help from that renowned scientific journal SPY magazine (January, 1990) - I am pleased to present the annual scientific inquiry into Santa Claus.
1. No known species of reindeer can fly. BUT there are 300,000 species of living organisms yet to be classified, and while most of these are insects and germs, this does not COMPLETELY rule out flying reindeer which only Santa has ever seen.
2. There are 2 billion children (persons under 18) in the world. BUT since Santa doesn't (appear) to handle the Muslim, Hindu, Jewish and Buddhist children, that reduces the workload to to 15% of the total - 378 million according to Population Reference Bureau. At an average (census) rate of 3.5 children per household, that's 91.8 million homes. One presumes there's at least one good child in each.
3. Santa has 31 hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the different time zones and the rotation of the earth, assuming he travels east to west (which seemes logical). This works out to 822.6 visits per second. This is to say that for each Christian household with good children, Santa has 1/1000th of a second to park, hop out of the sleigh, jump down the chimney, fill the stockings, distribute the remaining presents under the tree, eat whatever snacks have been left, get back up the chimney, get back into the sleigh and move on to the next house. Assuming that each of these 91.8 million stops are evenly distributed around the earth (which, of course, we know to be false but for the purposes of our calculations we will accept), we are now talking about .78 miles per household, a total trip of 75-1/2 million miles, not counting stops to do what most of us must do at least once every 31 hours, plus feeding and etc.
This means that Santa's sleigh is moving at 650 miles per second, 3,000 times the speed of sound. For purposes of comparison, the fastest man-made vehicle on earth, the Ulysses space probe, moves at a pokey 27.4 miles per second - a conventional reindeer can run, tops, 15 miles per hour.
4. The payload on the sleigh adds another interesting element. Assuming that each child gets nothing more than a medium-sized lego set (2 pounds), the sleigh is carrying 321,300 tons, not counting Santa, who is invariably described as overweight. On land, conventional reindeer can pull no more than 300 pounds. Even granting that "flying reindeer" (see point #1) could pull TEN TIMES the normal anount, we cannot do the job with eight, or even nine. We need 214,200 reindeer. This increases the payload - not even counting the weight of the sleigh - to 353,430 tons. Again, for comparison - this is four times the weight of the Queen Elizabeth.
5. 353,000 tons travelling at 650 miles per second creates enourmous air resistance - this will heat the reindeer up in the same fashion as spacecrafts re-entering the earth's atmosphere. The lead pair of reindeer will absorb 14.3 QUINTILLION joules of energy. Per second. Each. In short, they will burst into flame almost instantaneously, exposing the reindeer behind them, and create deafening sonic booms in their wake. The entire reindeer team will be vaporized within 4.26 thousandths of a second. Santa, meanwhile, will be subjected to centrifugal forces 17,500.06 times greater than gravity. A 250-pound Santa (which seems ludicrously slim) would be pinned to the back of his sleigh by 4,315,015 pounds of force.
In conclusion - If Santa ever DID deliver presents on Christmas Eve, he's dead now."
~ Unknown
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
