Ivan the Stakhanovets wrote:I'll bet he uses the oldest excuse in the book...
"I was cleaning my knife and didn't know it was loaded six times..."
Ahahahahahah! Very Good Comrade Stakhanovets!
I almost put coffee through my blowhole... For some reason this reminded me of lazing in bath in plastic lined room at friends' apartment in Ramat Gan in Jan '91... think it was the 17th... anyway, was lazing in bath, with gas mask and nerve gas pen at the ready when one of only a handful of scuds to actually land in Jewish occupied Palestinian lands otherwise known as suburb of Tel Aviv... AKA: Ramat Gan... blowed up real good about four blocks away... They forgot to load nerve gas on it, silly Iraqis, but someone died of a heart attack, I think... Iraqi's really were so poorly trained it was painful sometimes, and they could have blown up so much really old shit - thus eliminating any proof that Canaanites, Israelites, Jews, Babylonians, and Christians, etc. lived there before a space ship dropped those two really huge mosques on top of the temple mount in Jerusalem - with all those scuds, not to mention that super huge rail gun (will leave jokes about unnecessarily large rail guns to others)...
Why does blowing shit up never cease to be entertaining? Probably something to do with one of the laws of thermodynamics. One day I expect to blow something up and have it materialize into... I dunno... a room full of 100 monkeys at typewriters or something equally cat-in-a-sealed-and-booby-trapped-box-ish.. (It's times like this that I really miss Papa Theo). Anyway, I think if I blow enough shit up enough times, the law of averages dictates that something ordered but entirely useless will arise out of the chaos... If not monkeys, then maybe a room full of meerkats working on a jigsaw puzzle... That would be cute, and might trend for about 15 minutes on Twitter, before someone reports that someone's ass has gotten bigger/smaller/flatter/rounder/blown up...
In any case, was very well put.... Will have to remember it in case I need good excuse in the near future. Or maybe if I'm bored tomorrow, I will stab someone with a firearm, just so I can use it. I'll let you know how it goes...
Cheers!
Sis
Comrade Minitrue wrote:Comrade ghost, good work with your rehabilitation!If you ever doubt your sanity again do the following test.
In the picture below, the state assures you, there are 5 fingers in the air.
4 fingers.jpg
If you see only 4 fingers, you have a mental condition: please report to my office in the ministry for further education.
For Shame Comrade Minitrue! For Shame!
I believe you must repeat your Official Cube Sensitivity Training, as there are clearly many finger-challenged Cubists! I have often commented to our Glorious Incarnadine Trapezoid... Well... Whispered in his ear as he sleeps, really, so that he wonders why upon awakening he has had such ridiculous thoughts, that the Cube is at risk of becoming overrun by hairless finger-monkeys. Nevertheless, he has instituted re-education for just those finger-monkeys who give not a thought to those of their brothers and sisters who are phalangically-challenged... Alternately, I would be willing to drop the whole thing if you would just drop by Housekeeping and scratch this spot just behind my dorsal fin... It's been driving me nuts and I just can't get to it... That's how it works, isn't it? "You scratch my back. I don't have you thrown in a deep dark hole and forgotten."... I have learned so very much during my time among humans.