- 30 July 2002
- No. 5,502 (cartoon)
- Im disappointed.
Disappointment is what you sought, no?
Of course. Thats why Im disappointed.
- 31 July 2002
- Spotting a Pregnancy
- Stephanie is in a rancid mood. Rancid, rancid, rancid.
Steph took a week off from work, and now three of her coworkers have asked her if shes pregnant. The three ignorami are, of course, men.
Steph doesnt look close to being pregnant, but that didnt stop the three unwise men from asking whether or not she was expecting a child. What stupidity!
Although I may not be too smart, even I know never to ask a woman whether shes pregnant unless I can clearly observe a child emerging.
Pregnant woman are like Texans: if they are, theyll say so.
- 1 August 2002
- Roxy Sans Music
- Yesterday Dr. Alston introduced me to her new car, Roxy.
I cant hear the word Roxy without thinking of Roxy Music, I said.
Are you talking about the Radio City Rockettes? she asked.
No, the musical ensemble, I replied. You know, Brian Eno, Phil Manzanera, Bryan Ferry, and the other lads.
Ive never heard of them, Dr. Alston admitted. Who are they?
I took a few moments to compose a relevant response.
They are accomplished musicians who achieved popular recognition before you were conceived, I replied.
My answer surprised both of us.
- 2 August 2002
- Conceptual Crumbs
- Amanda had a bad day, and decided to take it out on the pigeons and seagulls we saw on our walk to a burrito parlour.
What are you doing in the city?! she yelled. Youve got wings, get out while you can!
David, she asked after a pause, why do birds stay in the middle of the city when they could fly away?
And thats when I had my epiphany.
Crumbs, I answered.
Crumbs? she replied.
We live in a fat, wasteful society, I explained. The birds are here for the literal crumbs; Im here for the conceptual crumbs. Who wants to work?
Amanda stopped shouting at my fellow gleaners.
- 3 August 2002
- Dr. Technos Remarkable Guarantee
- Its Saturday in San Francisco. That means I have more opportunities than time. I like that unambiguous ratio; thats one of the many reasons I spend so much of my time here.
For a while, I considered going to The Technomania Circus Early Bird Turkey Feed. I wasnt particularly attracted to the culinary angle; Im not interested in joining lots of predators feeding off the same carcass (unless were on the Serengeti). The interesting part of the invitation was, Dr. Technos remarkable guarantee.
You will enjoy the show, the impresario promised, or I will personally clean your house.
I dont have a house, so I instead decided to go to the party with magnums (magni?) of champagne.
- 4 August 2002
- Why Scots Wear Kilts
- After many liters of champagne at last nights party, the conversation turned to reincarnation. I asked why everyone who claimed to have lived a previous life was always a wise ruler, a brave warrior, a philosopher, a musician, et cetera. What happened to all the peasants, serfs, and people who never amounted to anything?
I used to be a sheep in a past life, volunteered Amy.
Really? I asked.
Really, she replied.
If thats true, I said, then tell me why Scots wear kilts.
Have you ever tried to chase sheep with your pants around your ankles? Amy queried.
I know better than to answer rhetorical questions, so I didnt.
- 5 August 2002
- Breathing My Own Fumes
- Im in trouble. Im breathing my own fumes. This cant be good. I need some fresh air.
- 6 August 2002
- An Intriguing Offer, Declined
- Edith sent me classified advertisement, with a brief cover note, Sounds like your kind of adventure.
Wanted! Somebody to go back in time with me!
THIS IS NOT A JOKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
You will get paid after we get back. Must bring your own weapons! Extensive computer skills are required.
Saefty [sic] is not guaranteed. I have only done this TWICE before. Last guy who answered did not return home with me.
ONLY SERIOUS RESPONSES PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Plan to leave in a few weeks.
- I agreed with Edith; it was an intriguing offer. On the other hand, Ive learned not to trust people who abuse capitalization and punctuation.
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©2002 David Glenn Rinehart