Tag Archives: humor

Man-Eaters

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I finally finished this illustration for the novel Stardusters and Space Lizards.   So I know that many of you are now thinking, “What the @#$%&! is that?”  But I must confess that one of the characters in that science-fictiony humor thingy about planetary environmental Armageddon is actually a man-eating plant with three heads.  But it needs to be pointed out, that though he/she/it seems to be menacing Brekka, Telleron girl space explorer, and at one point in the novel actually eats her, he/she/it does not like the taste of Tellerons, and befriends them later in the story.  So, he/she/it eats earth humans and lizard people, but not frog-like Tellerons.  This is probably only an important distinction to nutty sci-fi nerds like me, and you should feel completely free to ignore it.

It is important, though, for me to finish this humorous but didactic tale in a more timely fashion.  If I don’t finish it soon, we are going to have a man-eating carrot-man-thing that likes to eat girls as our next president who will deregulate all polluting industries and cause the heat-death of the planet Earth.  And then my novel will not only be unfinished, but also completely irrelevant.  These are the worries that keep me up late at night.

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Filed under humor, Paffooney, science fiction

Tricks With Lazy Goals in Mind

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As a writer, my goal is to create wisdom and new ideas and stuff that makes a reader feel happy, or sad, or angry, or even slightly insane.  But thinking is hard when your head hurts and your body aches and your sixtieth birthday is just around the corner.  (Yes, this Mickey is nearly 60, but can you believe that that Mickey is going to be 88 on the day after I turn 60?)  Sometimes you just want to say, “Never mind that I wanted to post every single day for the past two years.  Just curl up in a ball and go to sleep.”  But there are ways to get something done even if your mind is full of the Sandman’s leavings and old, rotted dreams.

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You can always get by with posting somebody else’s wisdom… somebody else’s thinking.  You don’t have to work too hard to paste things together.  After all, why else did you have to look at so many cut-and-paste essays over the years in middle school and high school?

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And you can rely on the work you have already done collecting computer files full of colorful crap and stuff you like enough to steal to complete your cut-and-paste scrapbook post.  You don’t have to feel like you erred and are about to have your head cut off by an angry Groo.

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And you know you can get a lot of cheap likes on Facebook with some of the stuff you have available to put in this post.  You have been working at the “Be funny!” thing for a long time, and have gotten almost good enough at it to be funny on the fly.  And when you’ve gotten more than halfway to the goal, you can rest a bit.  Take a nap.  Regenerate the crazy things in your head so you can do this all again another day.

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And if you can have a laugh before you are finished, even if no one else in the world gets the joke… well, at least you will feel a little bit better yourself.

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Filed under battling depression, blog posting, empathy, feeling sorry for myself, healing, humor, illness, self pity, strange and wonderful ideas about life, surrealism

Reading Twain for a Lifetime

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I wish to leave no doubt unturned like a stone that might have treasure hidden under it.  I love the works of Samuel L. Clemens, better known as Mark Twain.

I have read and studied his writing for a lifetime, starting with The Adventures of Tom Sawyer which I read for myself in the seventh grade, after seeing the musical movie Tom Sawyer starring Johnny Whittaker as Tom.  I caught a severe passion, more serious than a head-cold, for the wit and wisdom with which Twain crafted a story.  It took me a while to acquire and read more… but I most definitely did.  I took an American Literature course in college that featured Twain, and I read and analyzed The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.  I also bought a copy of Pudd’nhead Wilson which I would later devour in the same thoroughly literate and pretentious manner as I had Huck Finn.  Copies of A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court and The Mysterious Stranger were purchased at the same time, though I didn’t read them cover to cover until later during my years as a middle school English teacher.  I should point out, however, that I read and re-read both of those, Connecticut Yankee winning out by being read three times.  As a teacher, I taught Tom Sawyer as an in-class novel assignment in the time when other teachers thought I was more-or-less crazy for trying to teach a 100-year-old book to mostly Hispanic non-readers.  While the lunatic-inspired experiment was not a total success, it was not a total failure either.  Some kids actually liked having me read parts of it aloud to them, and some borrowed copies of the book to reread it for themselves after we finished as a class.

marktwaindvd2006During my middle-school teaching years I also bought and read copies of The Prince and the Pauper, Roughing It, and Life on the Mississippi.  I would later use a selection from Roughing It as part of a thematic unit on Mark Twain where I used Will Vinton’s glorious clay-mation movie, The Adventures of Mark Twain as a way to painlessly introduce my kids to the notion that Mark Twain was funny and complex and wise.

I have also read and used some of Twain’s most famous short fictions.  “The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County” and “The Man Who Corrupted Hadleyburg” are both masterpieces of Twain’s keen insight into the human psyche and the goofy and comic corruptions he finds there.

And now, retired old me is reading Tom Sawyer Abroad.  And, though it is not one of his finest works, I still love it and am enthralled.  I will review it and share it with you when I am finished.  But I will never be through with Mark Twain.  Not only is there more of him to read, but he has truly been a life-long friend .

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Stardusters… Canto 18

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Canto Eighteen – On an Over-Large Fireball Falling Out of Orbit

The orbital station was really no longer able to be classified as orbital.  Flames licked up all around the perimeter of the vehicle, and looking out any porthole or window let you see instantly that they were all minutes away from burning up.

“What is the next step, Sizzahl?” asked Davalon with a hint of panic in his voice.

“You have the two coils in place?  One inside the other?”

“Yes.”

“Turn it on.  The coils should then spiral in opposite directions.  That is what will provide the antigravity field, the inner and outer coils pulsing with opposing electro-magnetic energies.  It should begin almost immediately to interact with the planet’s magnetic field and slow you to a stop.”

Davalon nodded to George Jetson, and the somewhat cocky Telleron boy instantly flipped the power switch.  The light show that started made a prickly sensation run up and down the spines of everyone on board.

“It’s working.  I think you have saved us, Sizzahl.”

“To be honest, I didn’t do it to save you.  I really needed the plants on board that station.  And I was really lucky that you had Earthers on your ship when you crashed.  I need some of their genes, too.”

“You didn’t mean to save us?” asked Davalon.  “So… are you going to eat us after all?”

“I would if I were anyone else from Galtorr Prime.  We are a carnivorous race, you know.  But you lucked out.  I am probably the only vegetarian Galtorrian in existence… even before the wars wiped out ninety per cent of the population.”

“Are there other Galtorrians with you?” asked George Jetson nervously.

“No, I… I’m all alone here.  I have been since the armies of Senator Tedhkruhz overran our facility and… and… killed my parents.”

“Sizzahl?” said Davalon.  “Are you crying?”

“Yeah… I mean, no!” she sniffed loudly.  “What makes you think that?  Galtorrians are too mean to cry.”

“I know our intelligence reports on your planet suggest Galtorrians are much less sentimental than Tellerons, and Tellerons are so bad that they ate their own children until recently… when the Earthers taught us to love each other.”

“Tellerons are just too stupid to know better.  Every intelligent species tries to preserve themselves, especially through family units.”

George and Davalon were the only tadpoles hearing this from Sizzahl.  Davalon made a promise to himself that he would discuss it with Alden and Gracie Morrell later.  Perhaps Galtorrians could become better people in the same way that Tellerons had through exposure to Earth humans.

“How did you get this technology?” asked George Jetson while studying the spiraling coils.  This is tech level twelve at least.  We thought Galtorr Prime was just like Earth, only at tech level nine.”

“Ha!  That shows how uninformed you superior-minded idiots really are.  Alien races from advanced worlds have been visiting and living on both Galtorr Prime and Earth for millennia.  Probably even longer.”

“Alien races?” said Davalon, “like who?”

“You know about the Utopians, right?” said Sizzahl.

“The who?”

“The Utopians from the Zeta Reticuli systems.  The Earthers call them the Grays.”

“That’s creepy,” said Davalon.  “That double-star system is well within the borders of the Telleron Empire.  How is it that we don’t know about what they are up to?”

“Are they a part of your so-called empire?”

“No.” admitted Davalon.  “We have never really conquered any star-faring races who tried to resist us.”

“Yeah,” said George Jetson, “we are better at conquering little fuzzy critters and bug-people.”

“Are you referring to Kriitians?”

“Um, yeah.  Why?” asked George.

“We have some of them here on Galtorr as well.  I’ll bet the Utopians took a few of them to Earth as well.  Much the same way that Galtorrians were established in underground bases on Earth.”

“How can all of this happen without Telleron knowledge of it?” asked Davalon.

“Simple.  You guys are really pretty stupid.”

Sizzahl’s lack of respect and constant insults were beginning to grind at Davalon’s gizzard.  Of course, Tellerons didn’t have gizzards… hopefully.  That was just an Earth expression from some old western movies Davalon had seen.  But it fit.  His gizzard, whatever that truly was, was feeling very, very ground down.

*****

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FrightFest in the West

One of the results of the loss of the patriarch of my wife’s family is that all the sisters in this country got together to mourn, and all bought season passes for their families to Six Flags Over Texas, the poor man’s Disney World.  I, being of sound mind and decrepit body, didn’t get a vote, as I wasn’t there when they bought tickets on this extended-family plan.  In fact, marching around a theme park on my arthritic legs and cane trying to breathe Texas air full of all the pollen and pollutants that have been killing me, didn’t seem like such a good thing.  Yesterday I finally got talked into going and activating my already-purchased season pass.

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My wife and daughter at the burger restaurant

“We will just go to use our food pass,” my wife said.  “We can have dinner there at the park and get some use out of all that money I paid.”

That seemed almost reasonable.

“And if we can’t help but get on a ride or two, you can sit on a bench and watch all the weird and stupid people go by.”

Well, that sold it.  So we went.  We did notice, however, that the line for food was long and getting longer.  Some of the people waiting seemed to have been waiting a very long time.

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We finally got to the front of the line and got to pick gourmet cheeseburgers and chili fries because I don’t already have enough heart-clogging cholesterol in my system and needed a lot of greasy saturated fat for a high price.  Ah, the joys of eating at a theme park.  Long lines, rude people, bad food, and everybody’s patient and happy for the most part because they paid big bucks to get there.

And then, after we had our meal, we soon discovered why the theme park was full of skeletons and being pumped full of noxious chemical artificial fog.

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Yes, the Snickers Bars were bigger and scarier than ever.

Now, FrightFest and other celebrations of Halloween probably aren’t the best thing for people who have been associated with Jehovah’s Witnesses for twenty years, but it definitely provided a ton of stuff to see as we fled through the Old West section of the park to avoid zombie jump scares and other holiday nonsense.

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Giant spiders were everywhere, just like skeletons.

The toxic artificial smog with spooky lighting made it difficult to get a picture of the giant spiders who seemed to be hanging from every tree and possibly explaining the multitude of skeletons.  I didn’t get any pictures of zombies who were actually very young-looking employees in red and gray greasepaint.  We were too busy avoiding getting a “gotcha!” which seemed to be the sole purpose of the zombies.

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But it was still a theme park.  We wound our way through the crowd and made our way out.  It was a terrible mistake.  But we had fun.

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Filed under autobiography, family, horror movie, humor, photo paffoonies

Making Portraits

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My biggest regret as a cartoonist and waster of art supplies is the fact that I am not the world’s best portrait artist.  I can only rarely make a work of art look like a real person.  Usually the subject has to to be a person I love or care deeply about.  This 1983 picture of Ruben looks very like him to me, though he probably wouldn’t recognize himself here as the 8th grader who told me in the fall of 1981 that I was his favorite teacher.  That admission on his part kept me from quitting and failing as a first year teacher overwhelmed by the challenges of a poor school district in deep South Texas.

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My Great Grandma Hinckley was really great.

My great grandmother on my mother’s side passed away as the 1970’s came to an end.  I tried to immortalize her with a work of art.  I drew the sketch above to make a painting of her.  All my relatives were amazed at the picture.  They loved it immensely.  I gave the painting to my Grandma Aldrich, her second eldest daughter.  And it got put away in a closet at the farmhouse.  It made my grandma too sad to look at every day.  So the actual painting is still in a closet in Iowa.

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There were, of course, numerous students that made my life a living heck, especially during my early years as a teacher.  But I was one of those unusual teachers (possibly insane teachers) who learned to love the bad kids.  Love/hate relationships tend to endure in your memory almost as long as the loving ones.  I was always able to pull the good out of certain kids… at least in portraits of them.

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When kids pose for pictures, they are not usually patient enough to sit for a portrait artist.  I learned early on to work from photographs, though it has the disadvantage of being only two-dimensional.  Sometimes you have to cartoonify the subject to get the real essence of the person you are capturing in artiness.

But I can’t get to the point of this essay without acknowledging the fact that any artist who tries to make a portrait, is not a camera.  The artist has to put down on paper or canvas what he sees in his own head.  That means the work of art is filtered through the artist’s goofy brain and is transformed by all his quirks and abnormalities.  Therefore any work of art, including a portrait that looks like its subject, is really a picture of the artist himself.  So, I guess I owe you some self portraits to compare.

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Yeah, that’s me at 10… so what?

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Filed under art criticism, artwork, autobiography, humor, kids, Paffooney, self portrait, strange and wonderful ideas about life

Spokes-Dog

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At breakfast I cooked smokies, small-sized fried sausages.  Jade, our family dog got up to the table with the rest of us.

“I can eat twenty of those!” Jade said.

“No you can’t,” I said.  “You are a dog and eat from a bowl on the floor.  I didn’t even set a plate on the table for you.  This is not dog food.”

“Dad?  Did you see these coupons for Taco Bell on the table?” said the Princess.

“Oh, you mean, the Taco Bueno ads?  Remember what the last trip to that other place gave us?”

“Oh, yeah.  That was a horrible day spent in the bathroom,” she answered.

“The next time you go to Taco Bell, take me! ” said the dog.  “I loved the taco meat I found on the table last time you made the mistake of leaving some there.”

“Well, I do know that Taco Bell is universally loved by dogs.”

“How do you know that?” asked the Princess.

“Don’t you remember the Taco Bell dog?  Or were you too young when he was popular?”

“I think I was too young.”

“Look him up on the internet.”

“Oh, yeah!  I kinda remember that.  He was a talking dog, just like Jade.”

“Yes, but I think he mostly spoke Spanish.”

“He’s handsome!” said Jade.  “But look, he’s on television with very short fur… he’s naked!  That would be very embarrassing.”

“Yeah, when it comes to TV spokes-dogs, you’d probably prefer Spuds Mackenzie.  He had more style.”

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“I never heard of him,” said the Princess.

“Well, he was before you were born.  He was the Budweiser spokes-dog.”

“Did he talk too?”

“Just party language.  He was always chilling by the pool with beautiful human girls.”

“Let me see more of him!” demanded Jade.

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“Wow!” said Jade.  “A dog who drinks beer and plays guitar!  I think I’m in love!”

“That was so long ago, though,” I said.  “He is probably dead by now.  The average life span of a dog is only about ten years at the most.”

“Oh, now I am depressed,” said Jade.  “And you know the only cure for that is to give me some of the breakfast sausages!”

So, as I gave a dog a sausage, I was deeply regretting the whole talking dog thing.

 

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Filed under family, family dog, goofiness, humor, strange and wonderful ideas about life

The Gallery of Goofiness

Looking for stuff to organize into a post today led me to realize that I currently exist swimming in a tidal wave of goofy images that I myself have created.

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So, lazy and goofy old me will now show you some of these things.

I don’t even remember why I drew some of these things.

Some of it, is obviously because I was a teacher.

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But some of it is merely wacky.

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Though some might be considered inspirational.

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While some of it is just meant to be appealing.

But all of it provides me with an easy post that you can read fast, but still get plenty to think about from.  It is even good for a re-post if I add something newer.

 

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Filed under artwork, blog posting, colored pencil, goofiness, humor, illustrations, imagination, insight, old art, Paffooney

Stardusters… Canto 17

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Canto Seventeen – In the Lizardman’s Stronghold

Biznap, Farbick, and Starbright all had their hands resting against the helmet crests that contained their Telleron head-fins.   It was not easy to hold your hands above your head while wearing the heavy environment suits, but the large, nasty-looking slug-thrower the little lizardman held in his hands gave them extra encouragement.  Farbick was fairly sure the weapon worked like an Earther machine gun and could fire a steady stream of hot metal projectiles.

“You are the most pukingly repugnant set of miscreants ever produced by your inferior amphibianoid race,” said the huge, obese lizardman sitting on the throne, the one, it turned out, that had the girly voice.  The reptile wore only loose-fitting robes over his elephantine body, and his small, atrophied legs made it obvious the prodigious bulk could not even walk by himself.

“Will you eat one of them now, master?” asked the little lizardman with deep, dangerous-sounding voice.   He was tiny compared to the Tellerons, and microscopic compared to his master, but Farbick could tell by his scowl and his cold yellow snake eyes that he was by far the most dangerous creature in the room.

“The female looks delicious,” squeaked the fat one, “but they killed Grakknarh.  We can’t afford to eat them while they are still useful to our plans.”

“Grakknarh was the lizardman who attacked us outside?” Farbick asked.

“Yes.  And he was the one keeping the scabbies out of this facility.”

“What are scabbies?” Starbright asked.

The little lizardman grimaced as he spoke.  “Survivors of Tedhkruhz’s bacteria weapon are mindless monsters now.  They are covered in scabs from the disease, and they attack and eat anyone they see.”

“Don’t give them too much information, Stabharh,” warned the fat one.  “They are our prisoners now, but they have superior technology that we want.”

“Yes, Bahbahr, I yield to your wisdom.”

“What technology?” asked Farbick.

“The space ship you came in on, for one,” squealed Bahbahr greedily.  “We need it to get to another base where we can continue to try to fight off Overlord Rekhpahree, and evil Senator Tedhkruhz.  They have been trying to force my business empire out of business and killed most of my employees.”

“Giving a space ship to Galtorrians is totally out of the question,” said Biznap.  “We have no intention of unleashing your reptilian hordes on the galaxy.”

“What hordes?” asked Stabharh.  “Most of the population of Galtorr Prime is now dead or diseased.  There are barely any uninfected males left alive, and no females that we know of.”

“Too much information!” shouted Bahbahr.  “You need to leave some things for them to figure out on their own.”

“But you told me they were stupid,” said Stabharh.

“Yes, but you are telling them everything!”

“Oh.  Yeah.  Sorry, Bahbahr.”

“Commander Biznap is right in saying that we would rather die than give you the space ship,” said Starbright.

“Whoa, now… I didn’t actually say that.”  Biznap took his hands off his head fin.  “You don’t know how to fly a starship, do you?”

“No,” admitted Stabharh, “but we can learn.”

“Stabharh!”

“Oh, sorry again.”

“We would be willing to transport the two of you to this new base you wish to move to.  After we deliver you, you will let us fly back to our people.”

“We let one of you go.  And we keep the other two, along with all of the weapons you used to slay Grakknarh.”

“You can keep one of us, and the weapons,” countered Biznap.  “You will need someone to show you how to use the weapons properly.  By the way, do you have mirrors on your world?”

“Of course we have mirrors,” said Bahbahr in disgust.  “How else can I admire my beautiful figure and emerald scales?”

“Good,” said Biznap.  “I know a special trick with our weapons and a nice mirror.”

“We will think about your deal on the way to Galtorr Nine.”

“We will need a decision first,” said Biznap.

“We could eat you all now and figure the weapons out for ourselves…”

Biznap nodded meekly.  Farbick wondered if it might not have been better to get the devouring over with.

*****

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Filed under aliens, humor, novel, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney, science fiction

The Irony of Regular Blogging

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This is an old artwork I have never shared before.

There are many things that I have noticed about being a blogger that are the opposite of what you might expect.  Let me list a few…

  • Listing stuff makes a daily post easier.
  • I have posted something on WordPress as a blogger ever day for twenty two and a half months.  I will soon hit two years without missing a day.
  • Writing every day makes the ideas flow more easily rather than running out of ideas.  The well refills faster than I can drink its waters.
  • My most popular post is Be Naked More , which gets views practically every day, but including artistic nudes randomly in a post does not increase its views and popularity even when I put “naked” and “nude” in the tags.

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  • Reproducing artwork on a blog is difficult when you draw things too big for your little scanner/printer.  No matter how good the camera and how bright the lighting, white becomes gray and the sparkle and luster of good colored pencil color is lost.
  • Good writing becomes more about writing less.  But it also has to be more carefully crafted.  The more I brew prose in my black cauldron of a blog, the more it seems to boil down to poetry.
  • Readers don’t seem to object to metaphors and purple paisley prose as much as editors and book reviewers do.
  • I like writing purple paisley prose (over-complicated grammatical structures with alliteration, metaphor, and asides that interrupt the flow like this one… taken to the extreme for humorous effect).

  • Art pieces can be manipulated and re-used or re-combined to make something new out of something old.  Computers make art-editing infinitely easier.
  • Most people don’t actually read your blog all the way through.  Some just like it for the pictures.  If you actually read this far, you can let me know with a smiley face in the comments.
  • There are many, many good writers on WordPress… as I am sure there are on other blog sites as well.  I despair of being able to find and read them all.  If you are reading this bullet point, you are probably one of the ones I have found and read and liked.  Blogging becomes a mirror that shows you your own self more naked than naked… not just what is under your clothes, but what you look like to yourself in your own head.  And the more you walk around WordPress naked like that, the more you want to show it all off.  (How’s that for an idea that will pull in the readers from the lonely parts of Siberia?)

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Filed under blog posting, foolishness, goofy thoughts, humor, insight, irony, Paffooney