And so they entered the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest

So y'see - it was a dark and story night...

Many a story has been written over the years - even centuries, maybe with a sentence starting in those exact words. Every year the English Dept. at San Jose State University sponsors what could definitely be labeled as a "different" writing competition, The Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest. Here is a brief history and some background information:

"Since 1982 the English Department at San Jose State University has sponsored the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest, a whimsical literary competition that challenges entrants to compose the opening sentence to the worst of all possible novels. The contest (hereafter referred to as the BLFC) was the brainchild (or Rosemary's baby) of Professor Scott Rice, whose graduate school excavations unearthed the source of the line "It was a dark and stormy night." Sentenced to write a seminar paper on a minor Victorian novelist, he chose the man with the funny hyphenated name, Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, who was best known for perpetrating "The Last Days of Pompeii", Eugene Aram, Rienzi, The Caxtons, The Coming Race, and--not least--Paul Clifford, whose famous opener has been plagiarized repeatedly by the cartoon beagle Snoopy. No less impressively, Lytton coined phrases that have become common parlance in our language: "the pen is mightier than the sword," "the great unwashed," and "the almighty dollar" (the latter from The Coming Race, now available from the Broadview Press)."

So let's just move on to the winners, shall we? Congratulations to the following for creating such - um - diverse and - um - different but definitely entertaining material:


THE WINNING ENTRY:

"Folks say that if you listen real close at the height of the full moon, when the wind is blowin' off Nantucket Sound from the nor' east and the dogs are howlin' for no earthly reason, you can hear the awful screams of the crew of the "Ellie May," a sturdy whaler Captained by John McTavish; for it was on just such a night when the rum was flowin' and, Davey Jones be damned, big John brought his men on deck for the first of several screaming contests."
David McKenzieFederal Way, WA

The winner of 2009 Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest is David McKenzie, a 55-year-old Quality Systems consultant and writer from Federal Way, Washington. A contest recidivist, he has formerly won the Western and Children's Literature categories.

Runner-Up:

"The wind dry-shaved the cracked earth like a dull razor--the double edge kind from the plastic bag that you shouldn't use more than twice, but you do; but Trevor Earp had to face it as he started the second morning of his hopeless search for Drover, the Irish Wolfhound he had found as a pup near death from a fight with a prairie dog and nursed back to health, stolen by a traveling circus so that the monkey would have something to ride."
Warren Blair Ashburn, VA

Grand Panjandrum's Special Award

"Fleur looked down her nose at Guilliame, something she was accomplished at, being six foot three in her stocking feet, and having one of those long French noses, not pert like Bridget Bardot's, but more like the one that Charles De Gaulle had when he was still alive and President of France and he wore that cap that was shaped like a little hatbox with a bill in the front to offset his nose, but it didn't work. "
Marguerite Ahl Prescott valley, AZ

Winner: Adventure

"How best to pluck the exquisite Toothpick of Ramses from between a pair of acrimonious vipers before the demonic Guards of Nicobar returned should have held Indy's full attention, but in the back of his mind he still wondered why all the others who had agreed to take part in his wife's holiday scavenger hunt had been assigned to find stuff like a Phillips screwdriver or blue masking tape."
Joe WyattAmarillo, Texas

Runner-Up

In a flurry of flame and fur, fangs and wicker, thus ended the world's first and only hot air baboon ride.
Tony AlfieriLos Angeles, CA

Dishonorable Mention

Karen Buffalo, sensing that her 1894 Brassic & Middon .45 calibre revolvers, mounted with mother-of-pearl grips and clasped by ivory buttons carved in the shape of elephants at play, were no match for 'Duke' Bunton's double-barreled shotgun, muttered under her breath "Darn that Parisian gunsmith in the Fourteenth Arrondisement!"
Mark A. Gray WOKINGHAM Berks., U.K.

Winner: Detective

She walked into my office on legs as long as one of those long-legged birds that you see in Florida - the pink ones, not the white ones - except that she was standing on both of them, not just one of them, like those birds, the pink ones, and she wasn't wearing pink, but I knew right away that she was trouble, which those birds usually aren't.
Eric RiceSun Prairie, WI

Runner-Up

The dame sauntered silently into Rocco's office, but she didn't need to speak; the blood-soaked gown hugging her ample curves said it all: "I am a shipping heiress whose second husband was just murdered by Albanian assassins trying to blackmail me for my rare opal collection," or maybe, "Do you know a good dry cleaner?"
Tony AlfieriLos Angeles, CA

Dishonorable Mentions

The appearance of a thin red beam of light under my office door and the sound of one, then two pair of feet meant my demise was near, that my journey from gum-shoe detective to international agent had gone horribly wrong, until I realized it was my secretary teasing her cat with a laser pointer.
Steve LynchSan Marcos, CA

After quickly scrutinizing the two dangerously buff men coming toward her in the dark and wondering whether she could take them both out, P.I. Velma Plusch mentally inventoried her arsenal-two pistols, two stiletto-clad feet, two leather-gloved hands, two each eyes, ears, lips, and breasts-and decided that she could.
Donna Kain, Ph.D. Greenville, NC

Detective Pierson mentally reviewed the group of suspects milling around the recent crime scene-two young siblings eating gingerbread, a young girl in a red hoodie, a beautiful girl with narcolepsy, and seven little people with the profession of miners-then gave his statement of "It's a grim tale" to the press. Shannon GrayWichita, KS

Darnell knew he was getting hung out to dry when the D.A. made him come clean by airing other people's dirty laundry; the plea deal was a new wrinkle and there were still issues to iron out, but he hoped it would all come out in the wash - otherwise he had folded like a cheap suit for nothing.
Lynn LamousinBaton Rouge, LA

I entered the bedroom again, looking for anything the killer might have missed in his obvious attempt to clean the crime scene, when it hit me, the victim hadn't been eating just any potato salad, it was German potato salad, the kind usually served warm, with bacon and although most people prefer the traditional American potato salad, it was clear that this victim didn't, oh no, he didn't prefer it at all.
Lisa Lindquist-PerezDaytona Beach, FL

No man is an island, so they say, although the small crustaceans and the bird which sat impassively on Dirk Manhope's chest as he floated lazily in the pool would probably disagree.
Glen RobinsBrighton, East Sussex, U.K.

It was a quarter 'til eight in the ninth precinct when I got the call of a possible two-eleven at a nearby Seven-Eleven that turned out to be just a four-fifteen--that is until my number two from the ninth discovered the one-eight-seven under the Tenth Street Bridge, some two-bit mob soldier with a blossom of five .357's right in the ten-ring.
Jeff RileyFort Worth, TX

Winner: Fantasy Fiction

A quest is not to be undertaken lightly--or at all!--pondered Hlothgar, Thrag of the Western Boglands, son of Glothar, nephew of Garthol, known far and wide as Skull Dunker, as he wielded his chesty stallion Hralgoth through the ever-darkening Thlargwood, beyond which, if he survived its horrors and if Hroglath the royal spittle reader spoke true, his destiny awaited--all this though his years numbered but fourteen.
Stuart GreenmanSeattle, WA

Runner-Up

Towards the dragon's lair the fellowship marched -- a noble human prince, a fair elf, a surly dwarf, and a disheveled copyright attorney who was frantically trying to find a way to differentiate this story from "Lord of the Rings."
Andrew ManoskeFoster City, CA

Winner: Historical Fiction

The Cunard "Carinthia" glided through the starry waters of the Bering Sea, 843 passengers aboard, including Harriet Dobbs, resignedly single for over a decade, while a nautical mile due west slunk the K-18 submarine, under the command of lonely Ukrainian Captain First Rank Nikolai Shevchenko: ships that passed in the night (although the second technically a boat).
Dr. Sarah CockramEdinburgh, U.K.

Runner-Up

On a fine summer morning during the days of the Puritans, the prison door in the small New England town of B----n opened to release a convicted adulteress, the Scarlet Letter A embroidered on her dress, along with the Scarlet Letters B through J, a veritable McGuffey's Reader of Scarlet Letters, one for each little tyke waiting for her at the gate.
Joseph AsplerKirkland, QC, Canada

Winner: Purple Prose

The gutters of Manhattan teemed with the brackish slurry indicative of a significant though not incapacitating snowstorm three days prior, making it seem that God had tripped over Hoboken and spilled his smog-flavored slurpie all over the damn place.
Eric StovekenAllentown, PA

Runner-Up

Warily-as if his hands were a green-bean casserole in a non-tempered glass dish that had just come out of the freezer, and the patient was an oven that had been preheating for a good 75 minutes at 450F-the surgeon slowly reached into the incision and groped for the bullet fragment in the pancreas, at last finding it nestled near one of the Islets of Langerhans like a small wrecked lifeboat foundered on a sandbar as it floated in the fog, adrift in the Sea of John's Innards.
Christin KeckAkron OH
Dishonorable Mentions

Mortimer froze in his tracks; the rhythmic clicking on the stones of the path (well . . . not really a clicking sound so much as a kind of clinking sound, more like the noise made by shaking a charm bracelet filled with Disney characters to a salsa beat) made him suddenly realize he had forgotten to buckle one of his galoshes.
Rick CheesemanWaconia, MN

Without warning, their darting tongues entwined, like a couple of nightcrawlers fresh from the baitshop--their moist, twisting bodies finally snapping apart, not unlike an old man's muddy galosh being yanked away from his patent leather shoe.
Matt DennisonErie, PA

She expected a beautiful morning after the previous night's hard rain but instead stepped out her door to a horrible vision of drowned earthworms covering the walkway -- their bodies curled and swirled like limp confetti after a party crashed by firefighters.
Rita HammettBoca Raton, Florida

The first time I saw her she took my breath away with her long blonde hair that flowed over her shoulders like cheese sauce on a bed of nachos, making my stomach grumble as she stepped into the room, her red knit dress locking in curves better than a Ferrari at a Grand Prix.
Harol Hoffman-MeisnerGreensboro, NC

He slowly ran his fingers through her long black hair, which wasn't really black because she used Preference by L'Oreal to color it (because "she was worth it"); her carrot-colored roots were starting to show, and it reminded him of the time he'd covered his car's check engine light with black electrical tape, but a faint orange glow still shone around the edges.
Lisa Mileusnich Willoughby, OH

Their relationship hit a bump in the road, not the low, graceful kind of bump, reminiscent of a child's choo choo train-themed roller coaster, rather the kind of tall, narrow speed-bump that, if a school bus ran over it, would cause even a fat kid to fly up and bang his head on the ceiling.
Michael ReadeDurham, NC

It was a dark and stormy night, well, not pitch dark so much a plumby, you know, that time of night where it turns into that kind of eggplant color, which I hate-- eggplant not the time of night--and it wasn't stormy so much as drizzly, like a cold that's not so bad but really annoying, where you sound a little plugged up and all your mucus just sort of hovers at the edge of your nostrils or drips down the back of your throat, it was like that.
Maisey YatesJacksonville, OR

Winner: Romance

Melinda woke up suddenly to the sound of her trailer being pounded with wind and hail, and she couldn't help thinking that if she had only put her prized hog up for adoption last May, none of this would be happening, no one would have gotten hurt, and she wouldn't be left with only nine toes, or be living in a mobile home park in Nebraska with a second-rate trapeze artist named Fred. Ada Marie FinkelBoston, MA

Runner-Up

The first time I saw her she took my breath away with her long blonde hair that flowed over her shoulders like cheese sauce on a bed of nachos, making my stomach grumble as she stepped into the room, her red knit dress locking in curves better than a Ferrari at a Grand Prix.
Harol Hoffman-MeisnerGreensboro, NC

Dishonorable Mention

As she slowly drove up the long, winding driveway, Lady Alicia peeked out the window of her shiny blue Mercedes and spied Rodrigo the new gardener standing on a grassy mound with his long black hair flowing in the wind, his brown eyes piercing into her very soul, and his white shirt open to the waist, revealing his beautifully rippling muscular chest, and she thought to herself, "I must tell that lazy idiot to trim the hedges by the gate."
Kathryn MinicozziBronx, NY

Winner: Science Fiction

The golden, starry wonders of the dark universe unfurled before the brave interstellar vessel "Argus" like a black flag of victory with a whole bunch of holes in it as the mysterious mission buoyantly commenced that would one day resolve critical questions about space, time, and the appropriate ratio of nuts to chips in a perfect chocolate chip cookie.
Robert Friedman Skillman, NJ

Runner-Up

George scratched his head in abject puzzlement as he tried to figure out where he'd parked the rocket this time in the 100-acre parking lot of Nallmart 75B, but then he remembered that a ship-boy had taken his DNA key-but which one, the kelly toned humanoid or the atmosphere-of-Rylak-hued android; scanning the horizon, he at last turned to Babs and asked "how green was my valet"?
Leigh A. SmithNew Douglas, IL

Winner: Spy Fiction

Oliver Smith, spy on Her Majesty's service - not that she knew about it, because that tended to spoil the whole secrecy thing and really, who'd want an un-secret spy, anyway? Not to mention that any spy worth his salt would kill anybody who knew his identity . . . so I wouldn't go around mentioning that I read this if I were you - looked both ways before crossing the street.
Rafaela CanettiRio de Janeiro, Brazil

Runner-Up

The serrated butter knife tossed capriciously onto the 38th Street sidewalk amid the detritus of Salem cigarette butts and a Mentos box was devoid of zero trans fat margarine, but glinted invitingly in the sunlight nonetheless, poised for the opportunity to be repurposed to cut up a Snuggie, and Vladimir took it.
Amy E. GrossFair Lawn, NJ

Winner: Vile Puns

Using her flint knife to gut the two amphibians, Kreega the Neanderthal woman created the first pair of open-toad sandals.
Greg HomerPlacerville, CA

Runner-Up

Medusa stared at the two creatures approaching her across the Piazza and, instantly recognizing them as Spanish Gorgons, attempted to stall them by greeting them in their native tongue, "Gorgons, Hola!"
Eric DaviesDunedin, New Zealand

Dishonorable Mention

Eyeing the towering stacks of food colouring that formed the secret to his billion-dollar batik textile empire, grumpy Old Man Griffington was forced to admit that dye mounds are a churl's best friend.
Janine BeachamBusselton, Western Australia

Winner: Western

He was the desert nightmare whose name no one dared breathe, this deadly gun-slinger Garth Tedder, whose face struck terror in the hearts of man and beast, its macabre, round, maroon cheeks almost exactly like the pickled beets that farmers' wives force-fed their horrified families. Brett HawkinsBurleson, TX

Runner-Up

There stood Tex Omaha, fillin' his canteen with his last bottle of Fiji water -- a case of which, oddly, he'd got off an Irishman travelin' west on the railroad -- 'cause it's good water, better than the dirt-brown stuff at the waterhole that tastes like a rusty nail, worth the two buffalo hides he traded for it, and it'll keep him cool, calm and well-hydrated while he's huntin' down that dirty, no-good Scots-English cattle rustler, Angus 'Shorthorn' Hereford.
George M. Calger Saint Paul, MN

Miscellaneous Dishonorable Mentions

"I want you to follow my husband," said my newest client, the enigmatic Mrs Yogi, estranged wife of the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi.
Steve HeckmanTaylors, SC

Automotive power and the color red proved fatal to Santino; Sophia found his body wrapped around the exposed custom pistons of his ruined Ferrari Testarossa, and remembered the morning she found a sowbug on her red anthurium, a racy flower with an exposed pistil.
Denise WeldingAmesbury, MA

As Laurel made her way through the plaza, she couldn't help but notice the gorgeous co-anchor for the morning news show, out yet again signing autographs, smiling broadly, and infusing everyone around her with happiness, and she wondered, just for a second mind you, how good it would feel to punch her right in her stupid little face.
Nikkia DanielMarietta, GA

"They clang to me like horse flies on cow dung," said angry, shivering onion farmer Jesper Lunk, whose clothes had been eaten off him by a plague of locusts except for his boxer shorts, which were a comfortable cool blend of rayon and nylon in a floral pattern with a three-button fly and a snug elastic waistband.
James Macdonald Vancouver, B.C.

From my car I took thorough stock of the loose group of illegals standing around outside the Home Depot--plasterers, roofers, painters, all for hire . . . girls, too--and fingered the FEMA money in my pocket ruminatively; my house was a mess, but so was my love life--what was my pleasure?
Jeff EllerNew Orleans, LA

As Oedipus watched his mother gracefully glide across the great hall, he felt a stirring in his loins which he immediately regretted but then quickly dismissed, for he knew if these wanton desires for his mother were wrong then someone would have named the condition by now, thus proving once again that where his emotions were concerned there was only one description for Oedipus . . . complex.
Ted BegleyLexington, KY

Rosalita came in looking, with a look of surprise not unlike that of Hedy Lamarr in the 1947 version of "Samson and Delilah" when she learns that Samson will marry the woman, portrayed by Angela Lansbury, but with less fervor than that of Joan Crawford's 1948 version of "Mildred Pierce" discovering her daughter, played by Ann Blythe, was to run away with her, (Mildred's) boyfriend, to discover that Ernesto had once again left up the toilet seat.
James BiggieMelrose MA

As Lieutenant Baker shrank his lips back to their normal size, he tried desperately to think of a situation in which his new-found power might be useful, as have I, your narrator.
Dan BlaufussGlenview, IL

She had whispered wantonly, "Come to bed, Yul," but was now staring in utter disgust because the green lava lamp was too revealingly bright as he fumbled to adjust his new Merken, a $300 pubic toupee that had looked like a steal on eBay, but now looked just like a wet Tribble that had inexplicably crawled up his crack from an old "Star Trek" episode.
Barry BozzoneAllentown, PA

Her kiss grasped his lips like an aroused sea barnacle; her breath smelled like wet feet mated with ham-marinated, salty, delicious; and the sea wailed around them like lovers in a trailer park.
Matthew BradySeattle WA,

Peter shaded his eyes from the brilliant April morning sunlight as it suddenly illuminated the Bunny Trail, contemplated his handiwork, (separating all of those pearly white chicks-to-be from their mothers) and prepared for the final task to complete his mission-yes, this was a good day to dye.
Trent Bristol Mandan, ND

There were earthquakes in this land, terrible tsunamis that swirled flooding torrents of water throughout, and constant near-blizzard conditions, and not for the first time, Horatio Jones wished he did not live inside a snow globe.
Rich Buley-NeumarAmityville, NY

Grimly aware of the rapidly approaching disaster, Spiderman leaped from rooftop to flagpole, from flagpole to fire escape, hurling himself recklessly from building to building, darting glances through every window in his desperate search for one vital room, while silently cursing the fact that the last thing he had done before donning a one-piece skintight costume, was to eat a large bowl of hot chili.
David J Button South Australia, Australia

They said that his writing was rich in metaphor . . . not the type of rich that one likens with the amassing of great wealth, but rather the richness that one might associate with a Pot Pourri pasta meal available at Spaghetti Factory, featuring a mix of Brown Butter and Mizithra Cheese, Meat, Clam, and Marinara sauces-yes, that's how rich his metaphors were! (for John Updike-RIP)
John DrewSanta Clarita, CA

Before she was Tabloid Sally, the impossibly foxy movie star who destroyed marriages like a busty ball-peen hammer, before she was Nobel Sally, the mercurial chemist who cured chronic halitosis, and before she was Pulitzer Sally, the honey-dipped scribe who brought Washington to its knees, she was just little Sally Barns from Crow's Neck, Neb., Bill and Margie's daughter, a doe-eyed pixie who loved fairy tales and onion rings.
Roger CollierOttawa, Ontario

I awoke in my sleeper on the way from Amsterdam to Rotterdam, my nightmare riven by a train of thought that abruptly stopped me in my tracks with cataclysmic, explosive, and yet equal and opposing force, like a train on its way from Rotterdam to Amsterdam; then I realized I was on the wrong train and headed for Rotterdam, instead of Amsterdam.
Joe DykesDenver, CO

From my car I took thorough stock of the loose group of illegals standing around outside the Home Depot--plasterers, roofers, painters, all for hire . . . girls, too--and fingered the FEMA money in my pocket ruminatively; my house was a mess, but so was my love life--what was my pleasure?
Jeff EllerNew Orleans, LA

The skydiver jumped out of the plane and felt his skin being pulled back like that of a dog sticking its head out of a car going 110 on the highway, owned by a driver rushing to be on time for work or else he would get fired by his boss with the curly mustache who owned a large speedboat.
John FahertyQueensbury, NY

Swain had always come out of bar fights unscathed, built as he was like a '70 Dodge pickup (with that "Adventurer" styling package), but after tangling with Big Luther tonight, he felt like he'd been in a wreck, not a five-car pileup, exactly, but a pretty bad fender bender, busted headlights, maybe a bumper knocked loose, and, for sure, his tailgate dragging.
John HardiFalls Church, VA

It was a dark and stormy night, dark like the inside of a spare tire in the trunk of a 1957 Chevy sitting up on blocks in a tumbledown barn somewhere in rural Ohio, and stormy like the romance of Pete Kimball and his girlfriend Betty Lou, who used to make out in the back seat of that Chevy when it was new and shiny and the Dell-Vikings were singing "Come Go With Me"; but this is not their story, it just starts out dark and stormy like that.
David G. La FranceBurbank, CA

Perry had come a long way in the nine years since being arrested by a park ranger in his '81 Firebird tenderly holding a spiral-cut, honey-glazed ham (with the bone removed).
Jesse KolmanGoodyear, AZ

Crickets chirped in the lawn, katydids made that annoying grating sound in the trees, a mosquito whined near the ceiling, squirrels snuggled down in wherever it is they sleep, somewhere -- probably Africa -- a lion roared, ants gathered together in their underground tunnels like so many, well, whatever, and -- in spite of the fact that it was night (dark and stormy) -- Jimmy cracked corn and no one cared.
Dorinda PartschChesterton, IN

If she wasn't the poster girl for the word voluptuous, with her not exactly "bedroom," but definitely "walking-down-that-hallway" eyes, her hair a palomino mane rather than platinum blond, lips reminding me of Marilyn Monroe not Angelina Jolie, and that slow hip-swaying walk that sweet-talks a man's thoughts into dim, smoky rooms where R & B is played, she should've been.
Sandra TrentzYakima, WA

Lady Rowena, fresh from her bath, knew she had time to be ready to meet the Prince at 6:00 o'clock even though the mantle clock was striking six, because the brass escapement lever mechanism that engages the teeth of the large gear which drives the smaller gears that send the hour and minute hands on their circular paths, was worn.
Frank J. WeidlerPlacentia, CA

On a lovely day during one of the finest Indian summers anyone could remember--a season the Germans call "old wives' summer," obviously never having had Native Americans to name things after, but plenty of old wives, and "Indian summer" in German would refer to the natives of India in any case, which would make even less sense than the current naming system--on such a day, however named, John Baxter fell in the creek and drowned.
Deanna StewartHeidelberg, Germany

Fenwick was concerned when his voices returned, but they hadn't been troubling him much until now--now that they were singing an old tune by the Shirelles, or the Crystals, or the Ronettes, or the Angels, or the Chiffons, or one of those damn girl groups he couldn't keep straight, the uncertainty making him very agitated again, although he had to admit the harmonizing was quite good, really.
Jim SeamonPunta Gorda, FL

As my darling Jean-Claude entered the salon, with a single rose bud bouquet, I felt a wave wash over me, like the full brunt of Napoleon's forces at 9:05 am on the second of December 1805 ripping through once fertile fields to the Prutzen Heights, and I knew that Paris in printemps would be to my liking.
Andrew PittParis, France

As always, that morning he awoke to the melodious sound of a stream of water cascading into a still pool, punctuated by several ominous silences-- and he could judge, by the length of the silences and the volume of the cascade, just how much of his three-year-old son's urine he would have to wade through to get to the sink.
David PellicaneHighland Park, NJ

Tinkerbell landed softly on the bedpost in a sparkle of Industrial Light & Magic, handed the packet of cigarettes to a rather stubbly 'Pete' Pan and, seeing his little green tights strewn carelessly on the floor and a still sleeping Wendy lying naked beside him, quickly realized they were now a very long way from Never Never Land.
Hugh TrethowanBath, U.K.

It could have been no more than midnight's icy incipit when Clifford, stumbling in hitherto sanguine emprise through the tombstone teeth of the raven lit Kirk-yard like some well-performed but lichen-hushed human bullet-catch, heard the manifest bactrian vociferation which betrayed with desperate flourish the inexplicably wretched fact that his camel was out there, out on the ice - and she was in mortal peril.
Mr. S. J. CrawfordRedlynch, QLD, Australia

A dark and stormy night it was; in torrents fell the rain --except at occasional intervals, when, by a violent gust of wind was it checked, as up the streets it swept, (for in London it is that lies our scene), along the housetops rattling, and the scanty flame of the lamps fiercely agitating, that against the darkness, struggled.
(The story of Paul Clifford, is Yoda, to a padawan telling)
Jay Clifton Berkeley, California

So think you can write a worse opening? Surf on over here for the contest rules:

http://www.bulwer-lytton.com/

Queen Elizabeth orders her swans counted

Given the state of the world today what with loss of employment globally, famine, homelessness, war, you have to wonder about the timing of this news.

Queen Elizabeth, she who rules England, has ordered a counting of the swans, known as the annual "Swan Upping." Perhaps some people might use these words as a means in which to express their thoughts about the activity. Seems that the counting of the swans is a British tradition that dates back to the 12th century involving the counting of the swans on the Thames River.

One wonders why somebody - especially a royal - would want to know the amount of swans on any river, actually.

So y'see, the process involves the official Swan Marker, one David Barber, rowing up the Thames for five days(!) accompanied the the Swan Warden, one Christopher Perrins of the University of Oxford, wearing the special and traditional swan counting scarlet uniforms while counting, weighing and measuring adult and cygnets.

One wonders once again, if duplication could enter into the picture. I mean, how can one be sure that swan "A" for example, won't swim down the river and be counted as another swan. But I digresss.

According to custom, Britain's sovereign owns all unmarked, mute swans in open water, but the queen now exercises the right only on stretches of the Thames and its nearby tributaries.

Oh the angst of having one's swans limited to a territory!

This year Queen Elizabeth herself will be joining her team of Swan Uppers for part of the cencus. She will follow them up the river and visit a local school project on the whole subject of swans, cygnets and the Thames.

Yes but will Queen Elizabeth actually count the swans or just smile and do a royal wave?

Here's an older photo of a Swan Upper in full uniform checking (or counting) a swan and a story:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/oxfordshire/3906385.stm

Just wondering why it's necessary for a/swan uppers to wear a uniform? British tradition one surmises.

Still, would have made a great skit for Monty Python.

Pastor advises worshippers to bring guns to church

I'm probably opening up a can of worms here but this strikes me as very wrong. I'm also aware that U.S. citizens protect their right to bear arms to the nth however...

A pastor in a church in Louisville, KY. suggested to his parishiners, to carry guns to church on June 27th. Now correct me if I'm wrong but isn't church a place to touch base with one's Higher Power? So how does this pastor justify guns in a place of worship?

"Ken Pagano asked his flock to bring their unloaded handguns - in holsters - to New Bethel Church in Louisville for a celebration of the Second Amendment of the U.S. Consitution that guarantees the right to bear arms."

The pastor called the one-day event, "Open Carry Celebration."

Thing is more than 200 people showed up carrying guns, however, they could not be loaded with bullets. This lead me to ponder as to how he could ensure that the guns were empty. Did he have somebody at the door check the guns and do a body search?Anyway, the event included a handgun raffle, patriotic music and screening of gun safety videos. Some gun owners carried old-fashioned six-shooters in leather holsters. Still others packed modern police-style firearms.

Kentucky allows residents to openly carry guns in public with some restrictions.

I dunno...

Shepherd unaware of the concept perhaps?

So this Croatian shepherd who looks after sheep, decided to follow his flock. This move in itself wouldn't be newsworthy except that he followed them into a minefield. Luckily, the shepherd, one Philimon Zandamela, 34, survived to tell the tale and was led to safety by rescue workers in Sibenik.

The shepherd who hails from Mozambique has become somewhat of celebrity after surviving some unusual events that would or should have killed him.

This is a man who takes every word literally.

For example he accidentally drank sulphuric acid and stabbed himself in the stomach after a fortune teller told him it was time to die. A desire to be in porn films was cut short after his family threatened to leave unless he quit.

In discussing his survival in the mine field, Zandamela said that he was walking along and spotted a large number of strange bumps in the ground until realizing that he was in a mine field. Having a mobile phone he was able to phone the emergency services for help.

"I am very lucky to still be in one piece."

To say the least. There is no information regarding whether the sheep survived their walk or there was chops for a barbeque.

Cutting the grass, mower or less

It's Spring, when a man's or woman's thoughts usually turn to...mowing the lawn. After a long winter's nap buried snugly under a blanket of white, nature compels grass to do what grass usually does. Grow it does and then some.

Came accross an interesting piece in a news article.

Here's something for people who kvetch about how fast their lawns grow and how difficult it is to keep up with cutting them/it/the grass.

Seems that the British are now adopting - wait for it - wallabies as pets to trim their lawns. A wallabie according to Wikipedia, is "any of about thirty species of macropod (Family Macropodidae). It is an informal designation generally used for any macropod that is smaller than a kangaroo or wallaroo that has not been given some other name."

Now you know but let's get back to this new craze that could be sweeping England.

According to the article that I found, wallabies don't come cheap at a cost of £150 for males and £650 for females. Notice that the females are considerably more expensive than the male wallabies whatever that means.

Let's say...people (in this case Brits, but their popularity could spread) really take to wallabies and slowly they replace sheep. Slowly, sheep will lose their place as the official grass nibblers of the hills, replaced by the interloping Australian marsupials. A time could arrive down the line when sheep will have to fight for a piece of land, just like the days in the old west. There will be public appearances on talk shows like Oprah and Ellen with their human spokes-people showing un-sheared sheep suffering from over-wooliness syndrome. Facebook campaigns to save-the-sheep will emerge. The craze could spread accross the ocean at our doorsteps and it won't be long before wallabies will become a public fixture on weekends cutting North American lawns.

"See you got a new lawnmower," a neighbor will say to another, setting up the scene. "Nice model. I got a new one too."

At which point the neighbor-Mr. wallabie-owner will lead out his new living model mower while the other neighbor watches in stunned silence.

It's a possibility!

Somewhere down the line there will probably be a public outcry with animal rights protesters decrying the use of wallabies for human usage as barbaric and detrimental to the wallabie's health. At that point wallabies will lose their appeal and sheep will retain their former glory.

By the way anyone looking to keep a wallaby should have enough land for them to roam, at leat a half an acre with fences at least 5ft high to ensure they can't jump for freedom.

I mean, really. What next? Trained angel fish? For the record I tried training my angel fish without any success. Stubborn breed I'm told.

Hey kids - let's have some babies! Octomom The Musical?

Why am I not surprised. Following the media circus surrounding the birth of her eight offspring, somebody is attempting to cash in on the big event. Thing is - interested persons don't even have to be pregnant to qualify.

The story of "Octomom" Nadya Suleman, will soon be a musical, "Octomom: The Musical" to be presented by a small theatre in Los Angeles in June for 10 weeks.

Why am I not surprised.

The show written by one Chris Voltaire and produced by Bang and Cabaret Voltaire, advertises itself as a comedy.

Yeah - why not. If it wasn't so tragic.

Advertisements for the show include statements like, "it must be seen to be believed. A small epic for our strange times."

Ain't that the truth.

Anywaaaay... Auditions to fill the role(s) are taking place at Bang Comedy Studio with the casting session running from 3:30 - 5:30 p.m. at 457 N. Fairfax Ave. L.A.

Unable to make the auditions due to geographical limitations? No problem-o since electronic applications are being accepted at octomusicalcasting@gmail.com

BRAIN ORCHESTRA MAKES ITS DEBUT - THOUGHT-FULLY

For music afficionados it's not unusual to attend a musical performance played by a symphony orchestra. The blending of the various instruments can make for a relaxing and pleasing experience. The Multimodal Brain Orchestra made its musical world premiere on Thursday led by an "emotional conductor" in addition to a traditional one. What makes this performance unique is that music and video change in time with the performers' brain waves and heart rate. In other words - the end result is for your brain and emotions.

The project, a creation of the Synthetic, Perceptive, Emotive and Cognitive Systems (SPECS), the orchestra's premiere performance closed the Science Beyond Fiction conference in Prague.

The piece that the orchestra performed, Xmotion, was scored, giving it an underlying structure, however it's the performers controlling variations of visuals, sounds, frequencies, and volumes in the overall piece.

According to Anna Mura, a biologist and producer of the project, "everything is built to fulfil the circumplex model, which was worked out by psychologists that study emotions. How we feel and what we feel fits into a circle cut into four quadrants, labelled by 'arousal' and 'valence', that is, how much you're excited and how badly or positively you're excited."

Got that? I didn't but then I'm a gotta-hear-it regular-but-simple type-music lover. Anywaaaaay...

Four performers were fitted with caps littered with electrodes that take a real-time electroencephalograph - an image of the brain's electrical activity. Furthermore and according to Dr. Mura, there's a first, second violin and so on, except that instead of the real violins playing, it is a brain performance.

The graphs of those brain waves are projected onto one of two large screens above the orchestra. The performers launch sounds or affect their frequencies and modulations based on two well-characterised effects seen in EEGs: the steady-state visually evoked potential (SSVEP), and the so-called P300 signal.

"People believe that to understand how we feel will help us to understand what consciousness is all about. This is the technology that is going in that direction; we cannot explain consciousness with this but we are at least exploring the surface of it."

Read more about this "artistic interpretation of the biometric technology" here:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/science/nature/8016869.stm
and here: http://www.redorbit.com/news/technology/1676899/brain_orchestra_performs_at_conference_in_prague/index.html
Personally, I'll opt for a down-to-earth, hear-the-inststruments-in-person concert but then that's just me.

Pet Airways - paws-itively a great idea

Many pet owners when planning a trip, worry about what to do with their four-pawed friends. Pet sitting and pet boarding facilities are available but a new type of service is entering the market place. Would you believe - an airline that flies pets exclusively?

The new airline company, Pet Airways working out of Delray Beach, Florida, is aimed exclusively at pet travel. Like their human counterparts, pets get to travel in the main cabin and their owners aren't permitted to join them. What's more, the airline claims to be the first of its kind designed specifically for the safe and comfortable transportation of pets.

Seats normally for human pasengers will be removed to make room for pet carriers. The first departure for cats and dogs is scheduled for July 14 and the carrier will serve 5 U.S. cities including New York, Washington DC, Chicago, Denver and Los Angeles.

There is no mention of expansion plans to include other species/pets like gerbils, mice, birds, snakes, etc. etc.

The pawsengers, as the new airline calls them, can be booked in online and are checked in to a Pet Lounge at the airport. Does this mean that there will be catering services that offer bones or a steak before departure? Do you see another $$ lucrative$$ market here?

The pawsengers will get a "potty break" before departure and will be monitored during the flight. Presumably, this will be in the hands of the pet attendant who is on standby to cater to the travellers.

Owners or Pet Parents can follow their travel progress using an online "pet tracker".

The flights will be made in 19-seat turbo-prop planes operated by Suburban Air Freight, which have their seats removed to make space for the pet carriers.

Celine Dion to sing for hockey fans?

Quebec's (and the world depending on your view of her) very own chantoozy, Celine Dion, wants to own the Montreal Canadiens hockey club. To be more precise, Celine and her hubby, Rene Angelil.

Actually, Celine is one of a few group of interested/potential buyers but somehow her interest and possible ownership strikes me as funny. Then again, there are a lot of things strike me as funny... If she does acquire the team, does this mean hockey fans will be cursed.. that should read, treated to a selection of Dion songs during half-time?

Given her show-biz background and should she be successful, perhaps the Bell Centre, the Canadiens home arena, will be converted into a Vegas-style venue. Or they'll re-name it "The Celine Dion Hockey Arena for the Performing Arts or something like that.

The possibilities are endless...

Another addition to the family for Brad and Angelina

As part of their hourly commitment to each other, Brad Pitt and Angelina Joli have adopted celebrity, Paris Hilton.

"We've always felt that she needed guidance," Brad explained to Access Hollywood host, Nancy O'Dell. "Who better than us?"

The pair, through a mutually-acceptable representative, approached Hilton a month ago about the possibility of adoption. Although unreceptive initially, she relented last week and moved in after assurances that a house would be built specifically to accommodate her wardrobe.

"We love children and Paris is just a big, old overgrown kid," Pitt said. "Part of our house rules are that she has to text us which clubs she's at."

"Whatever he says," Angelina added, staring romantically in Brad's eyes. "I love it when he's so masterful!"

"We'll always have Paris," Brad said stroking Angelina's head.


HAPPY APRIL FOOLS DAY!

Mediums acquire grant to talk to the dead

I'm definitely in the wrong business. Yet once again a government has given a grant of questionable merit - at least IMHO.

Two people who should have psychic powers, recently received a grant to teach people how to communicate with the dead. Here I thought that this could be achieved by drinking too much coffee according to another report but I digress...

The psychics, Paul and Deborah Rees received £4,500 from the Welsh government's Want2Work job creation program. The recipients will be using the money to help people contact friends and relatives "on the other side." To be expected critics and presumably ordinary people are shocked and the Department of work and Pensions bureaucrats and Welsh Assembly has launched an investigation.

For their part the mediums claim the "mere £4,500" of public money will be put to good use at their centre the Accolade Academy of Psychic and Mediumistic Studies. Accolade? Weird choice of words and according to an Internet dictionary source, the meaning is "any award, honor, or laudatory notice." Given the negative reaction generally, perhaps they should drop the "accolade" in the name of their academy.

"Our job is to provide substantial evidence to bring ease to people's grieving - and that's what I would say to people who query the award" commented Paul Rees, a former upholsterer.

"It is an utter disgrace that taxpayers' money is being wasted and given to an organisation that believes it can teach people how to communicate with the dead" said Tory Welsh Assembly member, Jonathan Morgan.

There is no information as to if the psychic couple will be charging for their services and neither is there anything available regarding their curriculum. Perhaps Ohmmmmmm101 and related courses.

They're (could be) heeeere - according to British UFO files

Remember those crop circles that were in the news a while back, allegedly created by - insert Twilight Zone music - aliens? A British woman walking her dog in a field claims to have actually met up with a blond, Scandinavian-looking alien with a Scandinavian-like accent, who admitted to her that crop circles were created by some of his extra-terrestrial pals.

This was one of many stories part of the third UFO file documents to be released by the British Ministry of Defence covering the years from 1987 - 1993.

Back to the woman-and-her-dog encounter... Even though he - the alien - was told not to have an earthly contact, he felt that it was important to speak to one of our kind. Understandably, she ran home but upon hearing a loud buzzing noise, she turned to see a large, spherical object, glowing orange-white, rise steadily moving out of sight.

Then there are reports with a logical explanation like the report filed in 1992 of a
a bright cigar-shaped object seen flying silently over central London at night. It was later identified "almost certainly" as an illuminated airship advertising the Ford Mondeo car.

There is no information as to whether or not the woman and her pet had visited the local pub for a few pints prior to the encounter, which could be an explanation for the blond Scandinavian connection. I mean, why would the alien choose a Scandinavian accent given that he/she was in England? Maybe the alien miscalculated the coordinates of the landing and ended up in England instead of Scandinavia. Perhaps - just perhaps - there was another landing in Scandinavia with the alien having a British accent! It's a good an explanation as any. One can only speculate.

"The vast majority of reports are ordinary things seen in extraordinary situations," says UFO expert, Dr. David Clarke.

The files, which can be downloaded from the National Archives website, are being released as part of a three-year project.

There's a hand-drawn picture for those interested in a "crescent-shaped moon object, shaped like a banana. Maybe blue in colour. Arm and leg shapes hanging from lower end" taken from a 1989 report here:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/7954001.stm

Too bad Muldaur and Scully aren't around to solve the mystery.

God responds to phone messages left on His voice mail

Whereupon, artist, Johan Van der Dong, has provided a hotline, whereby people can connect to/with God via phone, and G-d returns His voice mail.


Hello, Hans? This is G-d returning your phone call."

"Who?"

"G-d? The Big Guy? The All Powerful and Mighty?"

"Ohhhhhhh...yeah. Sorry. I didn't recognize your voice for a minute. You're such a jerk! I mean - c'mon!"

"Pardon? Perhaps you're thinking of someone else? My personna has always been a source of speculation and strife - the two big "S's" - among religions."

"Stop fooling around, Phil. I know it's you!"

"Listen - I have a lot of return phone calls to make. Gazillions, even...all over the planet, earth. Then I have to look in on the wars and the dying people... So what can I do for you?"

"Yeah -surrrrre. Okay. Let's see... Today is Wednesday and you're working at Mario's, right? I'll take one all-dressed pizza and one vegetarian. This time make sure it's hot or no tip for you!"

"Seriously, I'm not Philip. I'm really...G-d!"

"You always did have a big ego, Phil! Now you're calling yourself G-d? You're pushing your luck, Phil!"

"Why do I bother? So many calls to make and so little time and somebody wants a pizza delivery."

"So...like...don't you want my new address? I moved last week!"

"Trust me - I know. Now if there's nothing else..."

"Now that you mention it, there is one more thing. Can you send along an order of onion rings?"

"Hello God? Guess who?"

Given the busy schedules of people these days, finding time to connect to a "Higher Power" isn't always possible. However a dutch artist, Johan Van der Dong, appears to have taken this into account and has provided a hotline, whereby people can connect to/with God via phone.

The purpose of God's Hotline as it has become known is to focus attention on the means in which Dutch people perceive religion. To this end the artist selected a mobile phone number to underline that God was available anywhere and anytime.

Actually, it's part of Van der Dong's art installation in the town of Groningen and anyone calling will receive the message:

"This is the voice of God, I am not able to speak to you at the moment, but please leave a message."

To date 1,000 messages have been recorded and the messages are confidential and not part of the art project.

"I'm not a pastor, I'm an artist and I won't listen to the messages. It's a secret between the Lord and the people who are calling."

Hmmmm... I wonder if and what the "real" Supreme Being feels about this concept. Mind you, you hav'ta give the artist credit for ingenuity and a means to attract attention to himself and his work. More interesting is what type of message God would leave on our answering machines.

"Hello John Smith. This is God responding to your message left on my answering machine, yesterday..."

The phone number for anyone interested in leaving a message is:

The telephone number is 06-4424-4901 for callers in the Netherlands and +316-4424-4901 for those from other countries.

I'm twitter-ing and I'm not a bird!

Can't exactly recall the reason behind my decision but the other day I decided to Twitter. It's especially puzzling since I'm also a Facebook-er or should that be Facebook-ee? Seems that Twitter is the place to be now according to the people in the know i.e. friends, cyber aquaintances, media types.

Comparatively-speaking, there is no distinguishable differences in my eyes other than Twitter is relegated to a one sentence statement: "What Are You Doing?" That's it! Nothing else! On the other hand Facebook asks the same question of members but recognized "friends" can join and allowing for comments. For example:

"Eleanor is feeling blechy today."

Sympathetic accepted "friends" could, if they felt like it, jump in with co-commiserations like, "hope you feel better soon!" or "tough!" and then a dialogue could be initiated until the subject is exhausted.

According to Twitter's raison d'etre, "Twitter asks one question, "What are you doing?" Answers must be under 140 characters in length and can be sent via mobile texting, instant message, or the web."

A word limitation of 140 characters is really asking a lot of a writer since we love to embrace words besides which, how could one properly express oneself in 140 characters? Then again there's the issue of how many people really want to know what anyone is doing at any given moment?

"I'm now loading the dishwasher," I could communicate to anyone who cares. Or "sitting in the dentist's office reading five year old magazines and waiting to have my yearly examination and my teeth cleaned." Wait a minute - is that more than 140 characters? See what I mean?

Somehow I now have John Mayer on my Twitter home page. Not that I'm objecting or anything because John is very easy on the eyes and I absolutely love his song, "Waiting On the World to Change." In addition I'm also subscribed to Wil Wheaton - remember him as Ensign Crusher on Star Trek: The Next Generation, which I still love btw - and George Stephanopoulos of ABC News. Still, it is curious how these three were selected for me.

Be that as it may, I'm listed somewhere in the Twitter directory if you happen to seek me out. However, darned if I can come up with anybody who would want to know what I'm doing within 140 characters and therefore have not approached or listed any friends.

Yet.

However, I'm atwitter if anyone asks.

Out of Viagra? Try rotten eggs instead

Keeping a dozen outdated and rotten eggs on hand in the refrigerator could come in handy during those special intimate occasions. According to researchers, the odor emitted by rotten eggs could be an alternative to Viagra. Seems that hydrogen sulphide prompts arousal in men with key nerve cells that release minute amounts of gas when a male becomes sexually aroused, causing blood vessels to relax and fill with blood. This is the process that sustains an erection.

University of Naples researcher, Professor Cirino is suggesting that it could be possible to develop drugs which will either deliver hydrogen sulphide or control hydrogen sulphide production.

"Of course, the hydrogen sulphide pathway represents a new therapeutic target for erectile dysfunction. These observations may lead to the development of therapeutic approaches in the treatment of erectile dysfunction."

The results, published in the journal Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, are particularly significant since approximately one-third of men with erectile dysfunction do not respond to Viagra. It's believed that half of all men aged between 40 and 70 suffer from the problem at some stage.

Taking this to the extreme, if science and pharmaceutical companies do discover a way to bottle hydrogen sulphide in pill form, how could one distinguish whether males are passing gas or horny? Just wondering...

I say - cricket origins might not be British

Exciting news regarding a report with new academic research claiming that cricket isn't English (gasp!) but imported from northern Belgium.

The basis for this conclusion was a poem thought to have been penned in 1533, suggesting that its humble beginnings were in Flanders. The word attributed to one John Skelton, Flemish weavers are labelled "kings of crekettes" challenging the assumption that the sport evolved from English children's games, according to Paul Campbell of the Australian National University.

King of crekettes? Perhaps - just perhaps - the term didn't refer to cricket but - wait for it - croquettes, the food! I mean, the Belgians are known for their waffles. Somehow, maybe there was a cross or mixup...

Anywaaaaay...to get back to this surprising discovery... The first references to cricket turned up in England in the 1600's when fines were given out for people who opted to play cricket and missed church. A game played by a lot of Englishmen ended up in public schools and the universities of Oxford and Cambridge in the following century. Furthermore, the first cricket club was formed in Hambledon in the 1760s and the Marylebone Cricket Club (MCC) was founded in 1787.

So now we all know the British origin of cricket. However...

German academic Heiner Gillmeister and an Australian colleague, claim the discovery proves the quintessential English pastime is anything but English.

In an apparent reference to cricket in the 16th Century work, The Image of Ipocrisie, attributed to the English poet John Skelton, refers to Flemish weavers who settled in southern and eastern England described as "kings of crekettes."

Again? Perhaps these Flemish weavers enjoyed croquettes for lunch, but does that make the game Flemish?

The assumption is that the weavers brought the game to England and played it close to where they looked after their sheep, using shepherd's crooks as bats.

Or perhaps they used over-cooked croquettes as balls or something... Go know!

Research conducted by one Mr. Campell, was based on earlier investigations by German academic, Gillmeister, a linguist from the University of Bonn, who believes that cricket couldn't have originated in England.

"There is no way to relate the term to any existing English word," he told the BBC.
"I was brought up with Flemish children and I know the language well. I immediately thought of the Flemish phrase 'met de krik ketsen' which means to 'chase a ball with a curved stick'."
In response, cricket historian David Frith said, "It is hard to deny that this is a breakthrough. This discovery points to an addition to the great history of cricket. It's exciting we haven't yet written the final word on it."

I don't know if this news falls in the "exciting" category but it's thought-provoking. Cricket...croquettes...makes one think, yes?

Whoopee! The sounds of flatulence

I've frequently questioned some members of the scientific community in as far as their knack to acquire funding for - um - unusual experiments or studies. This one stinks - really!

An acoustics professor from the University of Salford is asking the public to rate the funniness of whoopee cushion sounds in order to advance human understanding of faux flatulence - and raise money for Comic Relief.

The professor, Trevor Cox, designed a website that features twenty whoopee cushion sounds. Each visitor hears six of these sounds, and is asked to grade them accord to the extent they make them laugh.

Okaaaaaay... Personally, I don't find flatulence amusing but then perhaps I'm in the minority.
I mean - c'mon - gimme a break! Like - who cares and more to the point, how much did the good professor receive for his study.

Here is the site the professor set up to listen to the sounds first-hand and if you feel so moved, vote: http://www.salford.ac.uk/news/details/831

Why anyone would be interested in studying this subject is also a good question.

Female commuter flips out after missing plane - all on YouTube

These days a person really has to be careful what one does in public. Given the common usage of cell phones that can double as TV cameras, even an innocent action for example, like scratching an itch in a private part of the body or cleaning one's nose in public can become fodder for the world to see.


Take the case of a woman at the HongKong airport who "lost it" after missing her plane, now a big hit on YouTube with a registered 465,000 hits.

The video begins with the female passenger heading for the airport departure gate and pushing a female security guard in a frazzled attempt to make her flight. Upon the realization that she won't, the female begins banging on the desk, collapses on the floor, writhing and moaning in a high-pitched voice.


The woman was travelling on a Cathay Pacific flight to San Francisco on February 4, a Cathay spokeswoman said. In the end she took a later flight to Los Angeles.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xbVw7entkxg

Snow joke - grandfather trucks snow to grandkids

At this point in the winter, most people living in the snow belt I'm sure, would gladly help out and make personal donations to help this man.

An Indiana man filled his pickup truck with snow and drove more than 700 miles to metro Atlanta just so his grandchildren could make a snowman.

Randi Dyer of Lawrenceville, Georgia, said her father loaded up his Chevy long-bed pickup with the white stuff and made the nine-hour trip to surprise his two granddaughters. But it wasn’t just the kids who got a kick out of seeing snow.

“I’ve been complaining all winter about not having snow,” said Dyer. She said her daughters, Bradleigh and Rileigh Graham, spent all morning building a snowman.

“My neighbors have been stopping to take pictures and wondering how we got snow in our yard,” said Dyer.

Initially, Dyer said her father, who was headed to Florida on a business trip, thought about filling up a cooler with snow.

“But Dad decided to take the truck and fill it completely with snow,” said Dyer. “Still, there’s nothing better than Indiana snow,” she said.

As a Canadian, may I state for the record that our snow is quality stuff, which unfortunately is available five months of the year. Perhaps this would be an interesting alternative or at least an addition to clearing the snow: offering residents living in the south the opportunity to come fill their trucks or whatever with snow. Free!

No mention of which state(s) he passed through but it's amazing that the snow didn't melt along the way.

Overdue library book an arresting experience

There are books that capture our imagination, which we read and re-read over and over. On occasion a library book can be stored away and forgotten about. Perhaps - pure speculation here - this was the case with Iowa resident, Shelly Koontz, who was arrested on a fifth-degree theft charge because she allegedly failed to return a collection of essays focusing on the struggles of inner-city Long Beach, California high school students. The book, "The Freedom Writers Diary" has a retail value of $13.95.

You read it right: arrested as in legal proceedings against her.

The president of the Jesup library board, Tom McGlaughlin, expressed the view that pursuing criminal charges against a user for an overdue library book is unusual, but there were also unusual circumstances that were out of the ordinary.

"There is more to this issue than is coming to light at the present time," McGlaughlin said.

Seems that library staff phoned Koontz four times requesting the book be returned plus library officials sent her three letters and a certified letter that Koontz refused to accept. Furthermore, a police office actually visited her home in the fall and told Koontz daughter that the book had to be returned or pay the price of the book.

In Iowa, a fifth-degree theft charge, a misdemeanor offense, carries a maximum penalty of 30 days in jail and up to a $500 fine. In Des Moines, which has the largest library system in the state, an overdue library book carries a fine of 25 cents per day with a maximum of $6 in fines. After 30 days, the book is considered lost and the offending patron is billed for the cost the book, said Sally Wisdom, Des Moines Public Library deputy director.

In some cases, unpaid fines and missing book losses are turned over to a collection agency that specializes in recouping library losses, but Koontz's book would not have been turned over because it cost less than $25.

The missing/mislaid book would not have required the services of a collection agency given its cost of less than twenty-five dollars, yet she was arrested ? Makes a personal wonder and scratch one's head!

The Jesup library has a fine system, but it does not have a collection agency because "it's just not needed," McGlaughlin said. Statistics on monthly overdue books at the Jesup library were unavailable, but McGlaughlin, who has been on the library board for 11 years, could recall no instance where an arrest was made for an overdue book.

Meanwhile, Koontz is free upon posting a $250 bond.

Although Koontz is at least morally responsible for forgetting to return the library book, allowing legal proceedings against her is a bit much. It will be interesting to learn about the circumstances of the case.

Coffee drinking a possible link to the dearly departed

Is there no end to all the new scientific data and findings that is supposed to improve but ultimately affect our every-day lives?

If you're a big-time coffee drinker, have you hallucinated lately or been visited by the dearly departed? According to a report, you might.

Seems that scientists at Durham University have linked too much coffee and caffeine in particular, to - well - seeing dead people. Seriously.

Actually- and why am I not surprised - the initial findings were discovered by UK researchers who seem to have access to funds for "interesting" projects. According to the research and of course it's not conclusive but enough to make coffee drinkers a little edgy, people who drink too much coffee could - notice the word could - start seeing ghosts or hearing strange voices.

People who drank more than seven cups of instant coffee a day were three times more likely to hallucinate or hear people speak when nobody was around, compared to low caffeine users, defined as drinking less than the equivalent of one cup of java per day. However, academics say the findings do not prove a "causal link".

Among the experiences reported were seeing things that were not there, hearing voices, and sensing the presence of dead people. Instead of gazing into a crystal ball or joining hands in a seance, perhaps participants should consider drinking a lot of coffee instead. Much simpler.

Presumably sensing there could be a sudden decrease in coffee sales, a Dr. Euan Paul of the British Coffee Association stressed that the study focused strictly on people with a very high caffeine intake. For the record herbal tea drinkers were not included but most likely, there will be yet more statistics that herbal tea causes visions of Elvis.

Finger length an omen of future earning success

One has to ponder how much money was allotted to the group conducting this study. More to the point it strikes me that British researchers seem to have access to a cache of funds for - how shall we say - unusual studies.

In this case scientists at Cambridge University, presumably through close-up studies, have deduced that a man's fingers could predict his future success. The researchers who studied the forefingers of financial traders, concluded that those whose ring fingers are longer than their index fingers make the most money.

Say what?

The link could be down to testosterone exposure in the womb, Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences says.

This exposure may improve rapid decision-making skills and has been linked with aggression.
The same ring-to-index finger ratio, which is determined in the womb, has previously been
associated with success in competitive sports.

Researcher John Coates and his team reported last year that testosterone seemed to boost short term success at finance after they found City traders with higher levels of the male hormone in the morning were more likely to make an unusually big profit that day.

He said studies suggested similar associations with finger length are also seen in women.

The article on http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/health/7825890.stm states that "when the researchers looked only at the experienced traders, those with longer ring fingers earned far more than those with shorter ring fingers - £838,000 compared to £154,000 on average, respectively."

Seems that Belgian researchers, not to be outdone by the Brits, have discovered that "men with longer ring fingers become less "socially minded" - less willing to give money to a fellow participant - after watching aggressive movies."

Who cares? Gimme a break!

I dunno. Given the current state of the economy around the world with people starving, becoming homeless and the loss of employment, why on earth would someone waste/conduct a study that focuses on fingers and their potential for whatever?

UFO experts claim further proof that "we" are not alone

Strange lights and sightings of unusual objects in the sky by local residents have a lot of people excited including UFO experts, convinced that we, as in humble earthlings, are not alone. At least that's the conclusion that some citizens of Conishiolme, north east Lincolnshire in England have decided. Shades of X-Files!

The ultimate proof according to believers, is an ear-piercing boom in the early morning hours with visual "proof" focusing on one of 60 foot blades from a 200 foot high wind turbine, which was ripped off and another left twisted and useless. One of the witnesses described the craft as "a 'massive ball of light' with 'tentacles going right down to the ground' over the wind farm..."

Tentacles? A leftover special effect from the "War of the Worlds" film, perhaps? Where's Tom Cruise when you need him?

The Ministry of Defence said it was not looking into the incident as there was no evidence of a threat to UK airspace. Where's Muldaur and Scully when you need them?

Photos of the damaged blades along with images of the lights in the sky and more details of the sightings can be found here:
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1108973/UFO-experts-believe-mystery-wrecked-wind-turbine-final-proof-alone.html


Update on UFO story: January 9. the government's explanation

The UFO allegedly responsible for wrecking a wind turbine could have been a secret unmanned stealth bomber on test flights.

Yeah-yeah-yeah... Yudda-yudda-yudda.

Where have we heard that story before? If it's so secret, how come so many people spotted it?

The claim came from Ministry of Defence insiders who reportedly said that a black delta-wing craft called Taranis was making test runs on the coastal bombing ranges at Donna Nook and North Coates in Lincolnshire, near to the site of the damaged turbine.

One assumes that we earthlings are expected to believe that the test craft was flown by rookie pilots who flew too low and accidentally sheared off the blade. The next explanation will be weather balloons.

The Taranis, named after the Celtic god of thunder, is about the same size as a Hawk jet and is equipped with stealth equipment and an 'autonomous' artificial intelligence system.

Celtic god of thunder? Yet another explanation for the "boom" heard by local residents? Thunder = boom?

The plane is being developed by BAE Systems and has been designed to deliver weapons to battlefields in other continents.

Another rumor has frozen urine dropped from the sky as the culprit. The UFO explanation is definitely preferable.

(source: Daily Mail, http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1108973/Unmanned-stealth-bomber-UFO-responsible-destroying-wind-turbine.html)

Naughty words...beavers...popcorn perp

It's barely 2009 and already there's the realization that we live in a wacky yet interesting world.

"Could you perhaps share the reason for writing this statement?" someone reading this may feel compelled to ask.

Of course. That's the reason for keeping a blog!


Example #1

A male who took pen in hand to write abusive comments on buses and toilets about females he disliked, was recently banned from carrying felt tip pens and spray paint. Not that it makes a difference but the pen-perp who happens to live in Kent, England, is also banned from writing nasty or socially unacceptable comments and images (one can only imagine the images he drew) in public.

There was a method in his madness in that he wrote the bad words and/or artistic renderings and then drew it to the attention of the object of his dis-affection. Obviously, the victims were not amused.

Kent police reported that there was no rhyme or reason for his selection of victim other than spotting them on a bus or they had the misfortune of living or working nearby.


#2 Can't trust those beavers!

An escaped beaver that has been on the run since October, along with two of his beaver buds that have since been captured, is now to object of a hunt by conservationists. since he's been doing what beavers are prone to do and that is felling trees.

The owner of the farm where the beavers called home, actually keeps 24 beavers who are under the license from government agency, Natural England, as part of a wild life photography business. Meanwhile, the beaver is said to be responsible for gnawing down trees up to 20 miles away.

Actually - thinking further, it would be difficult if not impossible to place the blame on the escaped beaver unless of course, teeth impressions were taken. But I digress...

Furthermore, the owner plans to catch the escapee by using a number of "honey traps", boxes that have the scent of a female beaver.

"We've got traps being made up at the moment. Using the scent from one of the female beavers, we'll be able to catch the male beaver fairly quickly."

How cute. "Honey traps"...to lure unsuspecting beavers.

Hopefully, the beaver won't end up as a pair of sleeves.


#3 Butter or plain?

For Hansel and Gretel, it was a trail of bread crumbs but it was a trail popcorn that helped Sacramento police find a man wanted on a warrant.

The 21-year old man was taken into custody for a theft and suspicion of possession of stolen property.

Police officers found a trail of popcorn from the business that led them to an apartment located behind the store and followed the popcorn trail inside of one of the units.

See what I mean? Wacky world we live in...

A new and not-so-nice use for Jello

I dunno... We live in a very bizarre world these days.

A researcher at Montana State University says Jell-O, ultrasound, microwaves and electroshocking are among possible solutions to eliminate lake trout in Yellowstone National Park. Lake trout were introduced illegally into the park and threaten native cutthroat trout in Yellowstone Lake.

I'm wondering and let me state for the record that I'm not a fisher-person, why the two types of trout can't co-exist? Once again through human intervention and most likely because some people with a taste for lake trout thought it would be a good idea to introduce another specie here, we have a situation that should not have been created.

Also, I wonder how Jello feels about the negative image that its product could be used to eliminate a living specie.

Read the whole piece here: http://ca.news.yahoo.com/s/capress/081225/koddities/oddity_lake_trout_jell_o

Doggone shoplifter gets the bone

It's the holiday story that is making everyone smile.

There are your run-of-the-mill stories about people shoplifting items of supermarket shelves but this one can definitely be categorized as "different" or "daring" or even dog-gone nervy!

So a dog casually enters the Smith's Food and Drug supermarket in Murray, Utah. The dog, who appears to be a german shepherd, waits for the store's doors to open, strolls in with a determined gait and appears to know exactly where she/he wants to go. The object of this canine theft is the pet supply aisle 16 and a surveillance video caught the entire heist of a rawhide bone worth $2.79.

When confronted by store manager, Roger Adamson and ordered to "drop it!" the perp didn't bat an eyelash and made a quick exit out of the front door. The entire heist was caught on YouTube. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=anDvU530g2o

This begs the question as to why the perp... that is to say canine thief, chose this particular supermarket and whether he had cased the store earlier. More interesting, will the furry thief return for some dog toys and move up to bags of kibbles?

There is no information provided as to whether the thief has a record and nobody has phoned in any tips to help apprehend the perp...canine.

Talking turkey and it ain't a pretty picture

This could have been his last Christmas but due to the fickle finger of fate and what people perceived to be physicial imperfections, a turkey has escaped being the center piece on a holiday table.

The turkey, Wilbur, is missing tail feathers, has a misshapen body and if that's not bad enough, he walks with a limp. To make matters worse he lives on a "pick-your-own-turkey" farm in Totnes, Devon, England and is the only turkey left.

Leading a life of turkey can be so sad - and short.

The farm owner, Peter Hayford, explained that it was his - Wilbur's - first Christmas and under normal circumstances most likely it would have been his last, however, a lucky quirk of fate (that's what I call it) made him - Wilbur - unappealing to potential customers.

It was something about Wilbur's sad and bedraggled personna that made people turn away.

Some - most -a lot of people -would say that human rejection saved his life. Actually...thinking further, does it really make a difference in the scheme of things whether a turkey has a limp, or has feathers missing when it comes to flavor? But I digress...

The farm owner, Peter Hayford, said that "Wilbur will become one of the family. He might be an ugly old thing but we think he's lovely."

Sure it's easy for Hayford to say that now given his rejection by turkey selectors! Meanwhile, Wilbur has become somewhat of a celebrity and will live out his life, roast-free.


See a photo of Wilbur here: http://www.ananova.com/news/story/sm_3132598.html?menu=

(J)elvis lives in a New York Chanukah show

According to the promos, it's going to be a hunka, hunka Chanukah show. He'll shake, he'll rattle and may have some people rolling in laughter in a fun Chanukah music performance to be held on December 25th.

We're talking here about Jelvis, the Jewish Elvis.

The event to take place on the fifth day of Chanukah, is part of the Sephardic Music Festival Light Up the Holidays on Xmas Day at the Highline Ballroom in New York City.

Jelvis, also known as "the King of Lox'n'Roll" will for this night, will put on his blue suede yarmulke (skull cap) and get the audience up and singing with such well known favorites as "Shul House Rock", "Are You Hungry Tonight" and of course, the very popular-ish, "Oy Vey, My Way."

Given that it's also the holiday season for everyone, he will be joined by his back-up group, the
Merry Meshugganah Maccabees and Guitar Hero, Hiro Keitora, belly dancer, Bahita and sword swallower, Adam First Readl Man. There was also be a special appearance by the puppet, Elfis.

A portion of the proceeds will go go Mazon: a Jewish Response to Hunger www.mazon.org

Meanwhile, if you can't make it, you can see the master in action here on YouTube:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VtbMA6ABb1M

Uh-huh...

Christmas is alive and well...but not in Lapland, England

Once again a story focusing on a negative Christmas-related incident that took place in Lapland New Forest theme park on the Dorset Hampshire border, England. Twenty-five staff members were told by their hiring agency to quit Lapland New Forest, while a gate worker fled after being assaulted.

Why were they assaulted, you're probably asking yourself.

Perhaps the assault-ees were somewhat justified given that the entrance was £30 or approximately $44, which offered participants and revelers... Actually not too much again according to those that were there.

One father was so mad - how mad was he? He was so angry having to line up for 4 hours that he - well - physically demonstrated his anger towards Santa. Oh my... As if that wasn't bad enough, three security guards were also attacked and a snowman was so upset with the verbal abuse he received that he just took off.

That's not all.

According to staff members two fathers went at each other in the Gingerbread House over - wait for it - the last 2 spoonfuls of icing sugar! Not sweet, guys! The worst, at least for some children, was catching Santa with his beard off smoking a cigarette. Still more, Santa refused to let children sit on his knee unless they coughed up some extra money.

Not nice!

A total of 1,475 people have joined groups slamming the attraction on social networking website Facebook.

Meanwhile, the RSPCA launched an investigation after dozens of complaints about the treatment of husky dogs, reindeers and donkeys on the site.

Santa - the real one - would not be pleased!

See the photo of Lapland entrance here: http://www.ananova.com/news/story/sm_3107561.html

Bah humbug - Brownies banned from singing Christmas carols for pensioners

Some people just don't seem to get the concept of having the Christmas spirit. You reach out and do something nice for people and in turn it makes a person feel good. That's the way it's supposed to work.

The administrators who run the Marlowes Centre in Hemel Hempstead, Hertfordshire in (not so) jolly, old England could use a dose of holiday esprit. For nearly 20 years, Brownies and Girl Guides put on a carol concert for pensioners and the disabled at a shopping centre, however their joyous voices will be heard no more since the powers-that-be have deemed they were/are a safety risk. The risk in this case was the area around a 25 foot Christmas tree where the Guides used to sing. The approximately 100 girls were were/are considered a health and safety risk because they could obstruct fire escape routes.

See...lots of people - happy people and shoppers - used to stop and listen to the girls causing what they believe could be a bottleneck.

Bosses at the centre say a Christmas tree positioned outside New Look and new mobile trade stalls have limited the number of performers the centre can host at one time.

Marketing manager Eileen Gannon said, "with changes made to the centre's Christmas decorations and trade units there simply isn't space for a huge number of performers."

"We're disappointed, but our priority has to be the safety of people inside the centre."

The carolling has been taking place for 20 years and now suddenly they've become a risk?

She said the new rules were open to change in the future, as decisions made on decorations in the centre are different each year.

Another centre worker said: 'There were a lot of Brownies last year and they caused absolute chaos.'

What a wonderful example of holiday spirit they have set for the young Brownies! Maybe shoppers could consider showing their holiday spirit in ways that will make their feelings felt - $$$$$.

Experts study the line up...as in queuing

There are all types of queuing or lining up but it's doubtful that people would assess it as enjoyable...or interesting. For many of us having to wait in a line, for example, at the supermarket or buying fast food, is not a pleasurable experience especially when interlopers attempt to squeeze in front. But I digress.

Unbeknownst to most of us, lining up is now a subject of a study by experts in the field of queuing psychology.

Say what? Yup. Actually, one wonders what type of background would be required to be a line-up-psychologist.

A study is currently being done focusing on the psychology of the reaction of your ordinary people to lining up...and waiting for whatever.

The director of the Center for Engineering Systems Fundamentals at MIT, Richard Larson, believes that their findings may not always reduce wait times, but they can cut frustration and make people feel better . He should know having researched queuing psychology for more than twenty years.

Eliminating empty time, for example, makes waits seem shorter, Larson found in his research.

Visitors lining up for attractions at theme parks see this principle at work with queues that often use clever design and technology to make the line itself entertaining.

Read more about Larson's findings and theories here: http://www.cnn.com/2008/TECH/science/11/20/queuing.psychology/index.html

Personally, "line-jumpers" are the worst offenders but here's some basic queuing pschology 101:

- Occupied time feels shorter than unoccupied time

- People want to get started

- Anxiety makes waits seem longer

- Uncertain waits are longer than known, finite waits

Unexplained waits are longer than explained waits

- Unfair waits are longer than equitable waits

- The more valuable the service, the longer the customer will wait
- Solo waits feel longer than group waits

(Source: David H. Maister, "The Psychology of Waiting Lines")

Go figure that waiting in line is now considered a science!

There are liars...and then there are liars...

Some people call them fibs depending on the extent and depth of a made-up story. A fib is considered a small, trival lie but a lie is your grand daddy of a fib as in your new and never-met Nigerian friend left you a lot of money because of the spelling of your name.

It could be said that some people make an art of lying and this is the case with competitors who recently participated in the World's Biggest Liar Contest held at the Bridge Inn located in the English Lake District.

The origin of this contest dates back to the 19th century with one Will Ritson who lived and owned a pub in Wasdale Valley and had a reputation for telling stories about the heritage of the area. Some people believed his stories while others thought they were merely tall tales. Over the years Will's tales expanded to the point where it grew into "The World's Biggest Liar" competition held every November.

On November 20, liars from all over the globe gathered together at the Bridge Inn and when all the lies had been told, John "Johnny Liar" Graham took home the honors, again, for the 7th time.

Seven times... Those are some lies he must have told! Thinking further about this, one wonders if politicians are aware of this competition... I mean, it seems like a natural but I digress.

A local farmer, he clinched the title impressing 8 judges with a story/lie detailing the experience of a trip to Scotland in a wheelie bin (definition: A wheelie bin is a type of waste container and is made in several different types-Wikipedia) that went under the sea.

By the way did I mention there's a fortune waiting for everyone if your name contains the letters a, e, i, o, u and sometimes, y. Really...

Watch the liar in action in a video clip here: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/7741037.stm

Zoo claims poo is gold

For most pet owners, pet feces more commonly known as pet poo, is a by-product of sharing their lives with non-humans. They poop. You scoop and then it's into the trash can, however, the Toronto Zoo has devised a plan whereby they are turning animal feces into fuel.

Talk about recycling.

The zoo currently shares its premises with 5,000 residents and it is proposing to erect a plant to convert animal and food waste into biogas using bacteria.

According to Wikipedia, Biogas typically refers to a gas produced by the biological breakdown of organic matter in the absence of oxygen. Biogas originates from biogenic material and is a type of biofuel. Now you know.

"These bacteria are going to have a feast on this stuff, this feces that would have gone to waste and put the methane straight up into the air, and they're going to produce more methane quickly that we can use to shove through a generator and produce electricity," said zoo curator David Ireland. "This stuff is gold."

Read the rest of the story here: http://ca.news.yahoo.com/s/cbc/081115/canada/toronto_zoo_poo_1

What's more the the zoo believes it could produce enough fuel to cover its own needs as well as those of a few thousand homes. They estimate the cost of building a facility to convert the poo into fuel would be $13 million to building, it could (always that darn word!) make money back in 5 years selling the end result being electricity.

Energy produced from cow manure at an Ottawa Valley dairy farm won a $50,000 innovation award from the Ontario government last year.

So far there have been no news reports of studies concerning the conversion of cat or dog poo being converted into fuel. Now that would be innovative!

Just how old is the dead parrot sketch?

A customer enters a pet shop.
Mr. Praline: 'Ello, I wish to register a complaint.
(The owner does not respond.)
Mr. Praline: 'Ello, Miss?
Owner: What do you mean "miss"?
Mr. Praline: I'm sorry, I have a cold. I wish to make a complaint!
Owner: We're closin' for lunch.
Mr. Praline: Never mind that, my lad. I wish to complain about this parrot what I purchased not half an hour ago from this very boutique.
Owner: Oh yes, the, uh, the Norwegian Blue...What's,uh...What's wrong with it?
Mr. Praline: I'll tell you what's wrong with it, my lad. 'E's dead, that's what's wrong with it!
Owner: No, no, 'e's uh,...he's resting.
Mr. Praline: Look, matey, I know a dead parrot when I see one, and I'm looking at one right now.

Monty Python fans will recognize the above ramblings as part of the "Dead Parrot" sketch and now an ancestor of the famous comedy sketch has been discovered in a joke book that dates back to 4th century Greece.

Go figure but then again, not surprising given the range of subjects on the series.

Philogelos: The Laugh Addict, which has been translated from Greek manuscripts, contains a joke where a man complains that a slave he was sold had died.

"When he was with me, he never did any such thing!" is the reply.

In the Python sketch, written 1,600 years later, the shopkeeper claims the dead parrot is "pining for the fjords".

The 265 jokes in Philogelos are attributed to Hierocles and Philagrius, about whom very little is known.

Interesting item, actually, on how old (very) jokes and themes travel throughout the ages.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/7725079.stm

The rest of the Dead Parrot Sketch for Python-ites can be found here:

http://www.mtholyoke.edu/~ebarnes/python/dead-parrot.htm

Other jokes in the book include:

- Someone needled a well-known wit: "I had your wife, without paying a penny". He replied: "It's my duty as a husband to couple with such a monstrosity. What made you do it?"

- An Abderite sees a eunuch talking with a woman and asks him if she's his wife. The man responds that a eunuch is unable to have a wife.
"Ah, so she's your daughter? "

- A misogynist is attending to the burial of his wife, who has just died, when someone asks: "Who is it who rests in peace here?".
He answers: "Me, now that I'm rid of her!"

I guess you had to be there at the time...

And for people interested in finding out about the contents of the allegedly World's Oldest Joke Book, Philogelos: The Laugh Addict, try here: http://publishing.yudu.com/Library/Au7bv/PhilogelosTheLaughAd/resources/index.htm?referrerUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fbeta.yudu.com%2Flibrary%2Fitem_details%2F19544%2FPhilogelos--The-Laugh-Addict---The-World-s-Oldest-Joke-Book

Keep in mind that humor is subjective.

Why not a first family cat for the Obamas?

Just wondering as I'm sure it does many others who have far too much time on their hands, why the pet of choice for first families is a pooch. Don't get me wrong - I'm a dog lover from way back - but it strikes me that there should be equality when it comes to choosing a pet.

According to news reports, President-elect, Obama, will be adding to the family with the selection of a new puppy. See what I mean?

When it comes to the actual selection, Obama said there were two priorities: to have a "hypoallergenic" breed that sheds less hair, because daughter Malia has allergies, and to have a rescue dog.

Nice to note that the first family is setting an example by choosing a rescue dog. Be that as it may, it would be nice I think, to perhaps consider also adopting a pet cat. After all, cats are easy to care for in that they are an independent lot. For example, a cat can be left on its own with food and water and really they're quite content, being independent by nature.

Taking it a step further, why not a pet bird? Parrots are very intelligent and talented birds. There's a lot of entertainment value when visiting heads of state come to call. Think of the impact of a dancing parrot like Snowball:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1j_fxs8mUcQ

Meanwhile, everybody is weighing in as to what type of dog the first family will choose and what name will they select.

Read the story here: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/us_elections_2008/7714480.stm

The article includes background information about former White House pets - but no cats. Or parrots...or rats...hamsters...snakes...

Meanwhile, the Humane Society of the U.S. has some wonderful cats waiting to be adopted should there be a "first cat" in the White House: http://www.hsus.org/pets/pet_adoption_information/choosing_the_right_cat.html

They also have a very informative article focusing on how to select the right cat and/or dog here:
http://www.hsus.org/pets/pet_adoption_information/selecting_the_right_pet_for_you_pure_or_mixed_breed.html

Sarah Palin speaks to - um - Nicholas Sarkozy...in a way

So y'see...Governor Sarah Palin received a phone call from whom she believed to be French President Nicholas Sarkozy and they chatted about - let's see now... their common interest in hunting and geography with Sarkozy informing her that he can see Belgium from his home. You know - important political stuff like that.

After about 5 minutes of this fascinating exchange of information, Palin was subsequently informed that she was pranked by well-known Montreal radio pair, Marc-Antoine Audette and Sebastien Trudel who known as the Masked Avengers, who also pranked Mick Jagger among other celebrities in the past.

See photos of the pranksters here: http://network.nationalpost.com/np/blogs/posted/archive/2008/11/01/204813.aspx

Meanwhile, enjoy the phone coversation here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D_5V_-_aUZo

I did.

Angelfish receives life saving operation

As many fish owners/raisers/whoever will attest, sharing one's life with angelfish is...somewhat interesting. Visually, angelfish are attractive and their means of moving around the fish tank is graceful to watch. However...in the end, they are merely fish.

A couple of years ago - maybe more...one can never tell with fish - two angelfish, Frik and Frak shared a well-appointed tank in our den. Can't say that I played the role of "mom" to them as is the case with other non-watery species but they knew which way their fish food fell. I really liked those fish as much as one can like fish given their entertainment value, but this news item is really over the top. For the record, angelfish cost under $20.

I wonder about some Brits. Seems that an angelfish named Carla, underwent a £500 - five-hundred British pounds - life-saving operation to - wait for it - cure a hernia.

Go figure that a fish is even capable of having a hernia, never mind fixing it.

Anyway, Carla was anaesthetised before veterenarian Sue Thornton used a scalpel, needle and forceps to repair the hole.

I'm no fisher-person but doesn't one use a fish hook, which could be considered a needle-type device that tears a hole in... Well you get what I'm alluding to, here.

To return to the operation water was pumped through her (Carla, the fish) body and over her gills so she could breathe during the 30-minute procedure. She has now fully recovered.

Now I mean - c'mon! Life saving surgery to save a fish, even if it's a pretty angelfish? And a hernia operation to boot? What's next? Lung or gill transplant? Tail re-section?

James Oliver of London Aquarium, where Carla has lived for 10 years, said: "I guess it's a bit extreme to operate on a small tropical fish, but she's almost family."

Ms Thornton, who had two helpers, was called in after organs started to squeeze out Carla's side. She said: "I'm thrilled she survived."

I don't want to come accross petty or cynical here but given the cost of this operation/proceedure, a Carla II would have been a cheaper alternative.

See a photo of Carla under the knife in the true sense of the word, here: http://www.thesun.co.uk/sol/homepage/news/article1868442.ece

Basil the cockerel is living on borrowed time

It's not always an easy life for the aviary set, hence the expression, "for the birds." It's particularly applicable for a cockerel named, Basil, who has been given his walking - make that flying - orders by residents living in the neighborhood where the bird does his thing.

Seems that Basil, who arrived uncerimoniously in a garden six months ago and currently lives on a Gateshead, UK, housing estate, did what any healthy cockerel would do when the sun comes up, and welcome the day with some loud crowing. Really loud crowing. This didn't go over well with neighbors and complaints were registered with the Gateshead Housing Company and he was subsequently given his flying orders. Most of the residents according to reports, love him but he's got his detractors.

Thing is...Basil is considered livestock and under tenancy agreements, he must leave. Go tell that to the bird!

A spokesperson from the Gateshead Housing Company said: "Gateshead Council's tenancy agreement clearly states that tenants 'must not keep livestock, such as horses, donkeys, goats, pigs, cattle, ducks, geese and chickens at the property'.

"Also, 'animals must not cause a nuisance, annoyance or concern to anyone in the local area including any employee or agent of the council or the Gateshead Housing Company'.

However, Basil has received/is receiving help of the divine type from a group of local nuns who
live in a convent in Gosforth, Newcastle. Sister Mary, a nun at a convent in Gosforth in Newcastle, told her family that prayers had been offered.

There is even a Facebook page set up for Basil that you can join here:

http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=35567441405

Also, fans of Basil have written to Buckingham Palace requesting the Queen back their campaign.
The cockerel has until October 21st to vacate the area but how do you explain this in cockerel-ese?

See the bird in living color here:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/tyne/7675829.stm

Hello? Anybody out there in space?

One wonders what aliens or non-human species living far (far) away in other galaxies (humming "Star Wars" theme) think about we humanoids of planet earth. Obviously, if they have the ability to study us from great distances, it would indicate a superior intelligence or at the very least they are far more advanced scientifically and technologically-speaking. Why they would be interested in us in the first place is another question worth pondering.

Being the curious earthlings that we are, we'd like to know who, if anybody, is "out there." To this end, messages were recently sent to a planet twenty light years from Earth in the hope that they will reach intelligent alien life. A giant radio-telescope in Ukraine transmitted 501 photos, drawings and text messages that usually track asteroids. The target is any planet deemed capable of supporting life.

Replies, which were compiled by Bebo, a social networking website, invited the network's 12 million users in the form of a competition, to send messages they would like extra-terrestrials to receive. Perhaps somebody - pure speculation on my part - sent the message: 'ET - phone home." Then again, maybe they didn't...

According to reports topics included the environment, politics, world peace, family relationships, Oprah (just kidding) and other stuff.

After being launched at 0600 GMT Bebo's mission commander Oli Madgett said the message "passed the Moon in 1.7 seconds, Mars in just four minutes and will leave our Solar System before breakfast tomorrow".

The beamed messages will be sent 120 trillion miles into space. Organisers hope the hi-tech package will reach its target - the planet Gliese 581C - in early 2029.

Rumor - strictly an unsubstantiated one - has it that when informed about the project, Sarah Palin said she can see Gliese 581C from her home in Alaska.

Read the entire story here: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/science/nature/7660449.stm

If you want to send your own message via Bebo, here is the coordinates:
http://www.bebo.com/Search2.jsp?SearchTerm=a%20message%20from%20earth

No iffs or butts - filtering out the bad smells of life with Subtle Butt

We've all had those embarrassing moments after eating something gaseous like raw onions, chili, garlic, etc., which have causes - how shall we say - some smelly moments. No matter how hard we try to repress the odor with various physicial contortions, chances are somebody will get the drift. What's a person supposed to do?

Enter Subtle Butt, a garment filter that one places inside one's underwear or wherever (different strokes for different folks!) and worry now more, so claims the manufacturer.

According to the blurb, each 3.25" square filter is made of a soft fabric with an antimicrobial treatment on the side that touches the skin. The fibre is impregnated with activated carbon, which faces the underwear or the pants and has a large surface in which bad odors will get neutralized.

What's more, the people behind the product (excuse the bad pun) have taken to YouTube to promote their product with a video, replete with sound effects. Watch it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dcXp53Dk48Y

However, the noises remain. Oh well...

Some writers make BIG, big money - ask JK Rowling

As writers many of us dream about success and the subsequent riches that we hope - mainly dream - it will bring us. For most of us... Okay. A large portion of us, it remains in the dream stage. Then there's JK Rowling.

You know...she of Harry Potter fame? Would you believe that she makes £5 every second. Think of what this means! Every second the talented writer makes money even if she doesn't make or write one word! As a freelance writer it sometimes takes days to produce one decent piece of writing, not to mention having to shop it around in the hope of receiving compensation. She can, you know... if the mood hits her, write the letter "A" and the pounds roll in.

"What time is it?" she could ask somebody, during a casual conversation or sharing recipes. "Oh my - I just made five pounds... No - make that ten pounds. No - make that fifteen pounds..." You get the idea.

Impressive writer is an under-statement. Collectively, she has sold more than 400 million copies of her books world-wide making her the world's highest-earning author according to Forbes magazine. She made a total of $300 million last year alone.


Here's a list of the Top 10 Best-Paid Authors:

1. JK Rowling - $300m
2. James Patterson - $50m
3. Stephen King - $45m)
4. Tom Clancy - $35m
5. Danielle Steel - $30m
6. John Grisham - $25m
6. Dean Koontz - $25m
8. Ken Follett - $20m
9. Janet Evanovich - $17m
10. Nicholas Sparks - $16m

Source: Forbes magazine

By the way my name is NOT among them. Obviously it's an error (wink-wink).

Read an article on how Rowlings got where she is today here:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/politics/7626896.stm