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Best of Internet Oracularities #576-600

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576-600, 578-01, 582-08, 598-08, 581-07, 582-10, 598-03


Best of Usenet Oracularities #576-600    (4.0 mean)
Compiled-By: Steve Kinzler <kinzler@cs.indiana.edu>
Date: Sat, 20 Nov 1993 11:24:56 -0500

Oracularities are the distilled wisdom and sagacity of the Usenet
Oracle, as incarnated in its many anonymous e-mail participants.  This
collection has been compiled from the regular Oracularities postings #576
through #600 and contains the Oracularities rated by its readers as
among the funniest.

To find out more about the Usenet Oracle, send mail to
oracle@cs.indiana.edu with the word "help" in the subject line to
receive the Oracle helpfile.

The regular Oracularities postings can be found in the Usenet newsgroup
rec.humor.oracle.  Open discussion about the Usenet Oracle occurs in the
newsgroup rec.humor.oracle.d.  If your site doesn't carry these
newsgroups, contact your news administrator about starting them, or see
the Oracle helpfile about subscribing to the Oracularities e-mail
distribution list.


578-01    (25aep dist, 4.0 mean)
Selected-By: David Bremner <bremner@cs.sfu.ca>

The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was:

> Why ask why?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} The Oracle has considered your surprisingly good, almost adequate,
} philosophical question and is reminded of the parable of the drunk fish
} of Arabia.
}
} One day in a desert land many miles away many centuries ago there was
} an unhappy traveller. This man had worked honestly and hard since he
} was young, and verily all he had to show for it were a few gold pieces
} and the clothes on his back. "Oh verily, what is the point?" he was
} heard to moan, and he decided to get well and truly drunk.
}
} Using his last gold pieces he bought a goatskin of wine. But upon
} tasting the wine, he exclaimed "ptooi ptooi, this wine tastes sour" and
} verily he did not drink it, and lo! he did not get drunk.
}
} Many miles across the desert later, he came across a fish lying in the
} sand. "Hey! can you give me a hand" gasped the fish, "I'm gonna croak
} if I don't get some water soon."
}
} The unhappy traveller was extremely taken aback by a fish lying in the
} sand who talketh, and exclaimed "Why? O fish, why are you in the
} desert? and why can you talketh?"
}
} And lo! the fish answered "If you don't mind, we'll leave the 'why'
} questions until later and get me to some water or the 'why' of it all
} will become a bit academic."
}
} The unhappy traveller said "The only water I have is this extremely bad
} wine in this goatskin."
}
} "Any port in a storm" punned the fish badly. The unhappy traveller then
} put the fish into the goatskin, threw the goatskin over his shoulder
} and continued on his unhappy way.
}
} And lo! within minutes there was the sound of a great fishy merrymaking
} from the goatskin, and there was much fishy laughing and joking and
} singing of 'Knees up Mother Brown'. The villagers around marvelled at
} this man who carried such fishy sounds of joy wherever he went, and
} though the traveller's heart was heavy, he bought happiness to everyone
} he met. And there was much rejoicing and standing him of drinks and
} meals and roofs above his head, and lo! did his fame spread across the
} land and his heart begin to lighten.
}
} Eventually the traveller reached a distant kingdom ruled by a rather
} meek king and a rather aggressive queen who was in an advanced state of
} pregnancy. "Get me some oxtail soup and vinegared dried prunes"
} commanded the queen, and her servants rushed around in a futile manner
} until the queen got bored and had them all beheaded.
}
} "Why oxtail soup and vinegared dried prunes?" asked the king, but he
} was silenced when the queen gaveth him an extraordinarily filthy look.
}
} Later the queen asked "who is it that causes such merrymaking outside
} while I feel under the weather?" Upon learning of the traveller with
} the riotous goatskin, she asked for him to be bought to the throneroom.
} "Ow" she proclaimed when the heir apparent inside her kicked.
}
} When the traveller arrived, the queen had already decided that she
} didn't want to know the secret of the goatskin any more. This was of
} great relief to the traveller, as the merrymaking had ceased, the fish
} having died of advanced alcohol poisoning.
}
} Suddenly glaring at all present, the queen exclaimed "I want some
} Sushi."
}
} "Why?" pleaded her servants, "the country known as Japan hasn't even
} been discovered yet, why do you ask for Sushi? And we're hundreds of
} miles inland, how can you expect us to get some fresh fish and prepare
} it in time?"
}
} And the queen cried pitifully "it's so hard to get good help these
} days. Will anyone give me some Sushi? I will grant any wish for one
} plate of Sushi."
}
} And lo! the traveller said "I have some fresh fish, deeply marinaded in
} a vinegared wine. If it would please your majesty, perhaps you would
} like to sample my wares."
}
} The queen sampled the Sushi, and proclaimed it good, and there was much
} relief in the palace. "Until-recently-unhappy Traveller" she said, "you
} may have your wish. What do you want?"
}
} "I only want to be able to stay in your kingdom, treated in the same
} way I was when I had a drunk fish in my goatskin."
}
} "It shall be done" said the queen, "and what's more I give you a
} marvelous house with servants, and you shall have half my husband's
} harem."
}
} "Hey, hold on a minute" said the king, but another glance from his wife
} silenced him.
}
} And so, the now very happy traveller stayed in the kingdom, realising
} that had he insisted on asking the fish "Why?" in the desert, the fish
} would have croaketh and his present happiness would never have
} happened.
}
} And lo! his happiness continued until he died two years later of
} terminal curiosity.
}
} As payment the Oracle demands a prawn, peanut butter, and chocolate
} syrup sandwich.


582-08    (24egq dist, 4.0 mean)
Selected-By: asbestos@nwu.edu (Michael A. Atkinson)

The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was:

>     So Orrie old chum, what this "Bcc" business in the headers of my
> document.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} "Bcc" stands for Blind Carbon Copy.  But that doesn't tell you much.
} Sit back and learn a bit of Net lore.
}
} Back in the ancient, cloudy, misty days of the ancestors of the
} Internet, back around 1979, an old, worn-out blues musician used to
} warm his tired bones in the sun on Sproul Plaza at the University of
} California, Berkeley, from time to time putting his old harmonica to
} his mouth and playing a riff or two, and now and then saying "God
} bless you" to some kind soul who had thrown a coin in his battered old
} derby.
}
} Come December it grew cold, even in California, and the venerable
} blues man began looking for a building he could doze in without being
} thrown out.  Eventually he discovered the Computer Center, an ideal
} place because in those glorious days the only people using it were
} True Hackers who worked at night and slept during the day, mostly face
} down alongside their keyboards.  Once our protagonist had rescued an
} old Cal sweatshirt from a trash can and begun wearing it while he
} napped at a terminal station, no one questioned his right to be there.
}
} This old blues man, of course, was none other than Blind Carbon Copy.
}
} He had picked up the majority of his nickname back in the '20s, when
} as a boy he would sneak into the honky-tonks and listen to the sweet
} Delta blues he heard there, then sneak back home and practice what
} he'd learned.  One night when a young Al Jolson was performing, Bcc
} was so caught up in the music that he forgot to wait until he was home
} to practice, and when Al and the boys came out the stage door they
} found a young boy in the alley singing his heart out in a perfect
} imitation of the Master.  "Al, that boy just a carbon copy of you,"
} the bass man said, and the name stuck.
}
} Now Blind Carbon Copy wasn't blind, but did you ever hear of a Delta
} blues man who wasn't nicknamed Blind something?
}
} --Well, after a few days of napping in the Berkeley lab Bcc got
} curious about what all those red-eyed young-'uns was doing there, and
} he started moving from monitor to monitor and reading over people's
} shoulders.  He couldn't make much out of FORTRAN or C code, but every
} now and then he'd come upon someone reading his e-mail, and he'd read
} the message, and make a song out of it if he could, walking off into
} the center of the room and softly accompanying himself on his blues
} harp:
}
}     I've got a na-aasty bug, an' I'm feelin' mighty blue
}     <WaaAHHH-yaaa-yaaa, ya-aaa-aaa-WAAAA-aah-ahh>
}     I said mah code's got a big bug, makes me feel so goddam blue
}     <WaaAHHH-yaaa-yaaa, ya-aaa-aaa-WAAAA-aah-ahh>
}     Mah core's gone an' dumped me, said mah programmin' days was
}     through! <Bumpety-bumpety-bumpety bump bump BUMP.>
}
} His lyrics eventually worked their way into the bleary consciousnesses
} of the Berkeley hackers.  Dumbfounded at first, they quickly warmed to
} the idea of improvisational blues e-mail, and pretty soon got in the
} habit of calling Blind Carbon Copy over--when he was awake, of
} course--when they had received a particularly promising message that
} they wanted him to render.  Some of the more musical of the group got
} Bcc to teach them how to sing the blues too, and began doing their own
} riffs when Bcc was asleep or away.
}
} Well, the Berkeley group split up, as all things will; Bcc went back
} to Louisiana to live with his daughter's family, the hackers
} graduated, or got jobs, or became bums.  But whenever one of them sent
} e-mail to someone working with one of the old crowd, they'd attach a
} header reading, let's say, "Blind Carbon Copy: William Joy", to
} indicate that the recipient should call Bill Joy over to do the blues
} on the message.
}
} Before long the header was shortened to the standard "Bcc" in Berkeley
} sendmail.  But the tradition lives on.  Mostly nowadays the Bcc
} heading is just a ritual gesture, and few are the companies and
} schools where people know enough Net history to call for one of their
} colleagues to come sing their e-mail when they have a Bcc line.  But
} now you know, and you know what to do, and remember, above all, that
} even if you get funny looks when someone's reading over your shoulder
} and laying down that e-mail wail, there's an old Delta blues man,
} lying in a bed in an old-folks home in Baton Rouge now, who hears and
} is blessed every time you sing them.
}
} Blind Carbon Copy--part of your Internet heritage!
}
} (This Oracularity sponsored by the Internet Cultural Task Force, the
} Corporation for Public Broadcasting, and the Louisiana Office of
} Tourism.)


598-08    (049pi dist, 4.0 mean)
Selected-By: David Sewell <dsew@lion.ccit.arizona.edu>

The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was:

> Oh great one
> Does writing to you mean that I've become a computer Geek?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Not in and of itself, no.  Here, take this handy test:
}
} 1) I have moss growing
}    A) In my garden
}    B) In my bathroom
}    C) In my kitchen
}    D) On my teeth
}
} 2) When I open my mouth at parties, people
}    A) Listen
}    B) Ease away slowly
}    C) Stuff a live weasel down my throat
}
} 3) I think computers are
}    A) Uninteresting
}    B) Interesting
}    C) Too damn small for the stuff I want to do
}
} 4) I think sheep are
}    A) Uninteresting
}    B) Interesting
}    C) Annoyingly far away from where I live
}
} 5) The Usenet Oracle is
}    A) A pack of weenies who think about "Lisa" way too much
}    B) Interesting
}    C) Not appreciative of the great answers I write; the Priesthood is
}       out to get me
}
} 6) The gender I desire to have sexual relations with is
}    A) Difficult to understand
}    B) Impossible to understand
}    C) Clearly from a different planet
}    D) How should I know?  I've only seen pictures
}
} 7) Bill Gates is
}    A) Bill who?
}    B) Very wealthy
}    C) Head of Microsoft, which produces some widely used products
}    D) The Antichrist
}
} 8) In general, people
}    A) Like me
}    B) Don't like me
}    C) People?  What people?
}
} 9) My friends are
}    A) Diverse
}    B) People I know from work or school
}    C) Wearing the same clothing I am
}
} 10) My dream vacation is
}    A) Tibet
}    B) Europe
}    C) California
}    D) In a room with lots of fluorescent lights and an unlimited supply
}       of coffee
}
} 11) My job prospects are
}    A) Abysmal
}    B) Adequate
}    C) I'll never be out of work, you hear me?  Never!
}    D) They pay people to do this?
}
} Score 0 for each A, 1 for each B, 2 for each C, and 3 for each D.
}
} 19 or more : Yep.  You're a computer geek, all right.
}    13 - 18 : You're a geek of some stripe or another.
}     7 - 12 : Probably not a geek, but watch it...
}      0 - 6 : If you're female, could you leave a note for me in the
}              personals column?  Please?  Hello?


581-07    (338dj dist, 3.9 mean)
Selected-By: John.McCartney@EBay.Sun.COM ( The Lion of Symmetry )

The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was:

> So, how can you tell if a clam is happy, as in, "happy as a clam"?
> Help, help I have to know?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} I was sitting in Ray's Oyster Bar kelping to myself.  I was watching
} this starfish do her act.  What an angelfish!  She moved like an eel,
} skating across the sandy stage.  Every cod in the place wanted to
} grouper.  I shore did.  My scales tingled with thoughts of fileting
} her red snaper.  A cockletail waitress swam by.  I sank my hurricane,
} then gave her a few clams to get me another.  This time a torpedo.
}
} After a minnow or two, a whale of a fish swam in.  This was no small
} fry.  He was a shark.  He had two hammerheaded guys with him.  Mussel.
} They came to the table by me and sat down.  They were here for the
} show.
}
} After her dance, the starfish swam over to the man.  She was
} floundering. The big fish slapped her across urchin.  He was eating her
} alive.  Holy mackeral, I thought.  That blowfish can't do that to the
} catfish I love.  I had to help her.  I jumped up.  I gave the squid
} nearest me, a hook.  One of those rusty hooks with a real sharp barb.
} I got him.  The other slug took the bait.  I could see his porpoise.
} He launched at me, but I ducked behind a sandbar.  He piked his head
} around to sea me.  The opening was there.  I gave him a sucker punch an
} octopus would be proud of.  He went down.
}
} Meanwhile the shark looked more like a puffer.  His mussel had been
} eaten. It was his turn to be scaled, battered, and fried.  Deep fat
} fried. I swam toward him.  The little starfish gazed wide eyed.  "Let
} the angel go, Dogfish", I said.  He did.  The little starfish took my
} fin. "Lets get outta this aquarium", she said.  Just as we started to
} leave, the slippery eel tried to strikee.  What kind of prawn did he
} take me for? His face was perched.  I knocked the carp out of him.
}
} Off we went -- me and the starfish.
}
} I was happy as a clam.


582-10    (396hr dist, 3.9 mean)
Selected-By: Mark McCafferty <markm@gslmail.mincom.oz.au>

The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was:

> Oracle Most Wise, whose triangles always sum to *at least* 180 degrees,
> please answer my humble query:
>
> Which version of Euclid's fifth proposition is your favourite?
>
> Sincerely,
>
> A. M. Junkie

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} I'm rather partial to the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle version of
} Euclid's 5th postulate:
}
}  Given a line and a point not on a line, the odds are pretty good you
}  won't know the momentum of the point real well, so you may or may not
}  be able to run another line through the point (oh great; now you don't
}  know the momentum of the point AT ALL) that is parallel to the first
}  line (but then you don't know its momentum either; what a mess!), at
}  least not to within Planck's constant.
}
} Then there's the version based on Ian Malcolm's non-explanation of
} chaos theory in Jurassic Park:
}
}  Given a line and -- are you following me so far? -- a point -- you
}  know what a point is, right?  How about a strange attractor?  A
}  fractal dimension?  Want some more buzz words that sound intelligent?
}  -- not on a line, well, give me your hand.  Soft.  Very good.  Anyway,
}  we have this line, see, and a point that -- now here's the tricky part
}  the point is not on the line, not at all; not even all that close,
}  really, but I'm sure someone as attractive as you knows all about that
}  -- sorry for the pun -- my point is -- sorry about that pun, too -- my
}  point is that mathematics is chaotic so mankind shouldn't be messing
}  around with it unless you can get at least a best seller and a movie
}  version with a $200 million gross out of it.  See what I mean?
}
} Of course, some people enjoy the Pythonesque version:
}
}  Now look, my good man, I took this line and this point, like you so
}  callously recommended, and I passed another line through the point,
}  -- not on the first line, and now that line is dead!  It's deceased!
}  It's defunct!  It's met its Maker!  It's shuffled off it's mortal coil
}  and joined the choir invisible!  This is an ex-line!
}
} How about the Star Trek version?
}
}  Kirk: Spock, what do your sensors tell you about this region of space?
}  Have we entered (insert overly dramatic gesture here) a *parallel*
}  universe?
}
}  Spock: Captain, by definition, that is impossible.  Parallel
}  universes, like parallel lines, cannot intersect.
}
}  Bones: Why you inhuman, pointy-eared, green blooded Vulcan!  This is
}  television!  Parallel universes intersect all the time in television!
}
}  Worf:  That's true.  Remember when the Enterprise C came through that
}  rift in space ...
}
}  Kirk:  A Klingon!  Phasers on Once_Over_Lightly!  Fire!
}
}  Spock: Klingon, your appearance here is illogical.
}
}  Q:  Especially since he wasn't even in the "Yesterday's Enterprise"
}  episode.  But you poor, pathetic humans wouldn't know about that,
}  would you?
}
}  Kirk: (puffs up his chest in a manly fashion)  Hey, what are you doing
}  on my ship?
}
}  Q: I'm waiting for someone to make an actual statement, so I can show
}  how omnipotent I am by violating it.  I should have known you would
}  all be so boring in the meantime.
}
}  Kirk:  Scotty, get us out of here!
}
}  Scotty: But Captain, I canna change the laws of physics!  I've got to
}  have thirty minutes, minus commercials!
}
}  Kirk:  Scotty--
}
}  Uhura:  Captain, I'm not frightened, but if I don't act scared I don't
}  get any lines.
}
}  Oracle: (materializes on the bridge) All right, everybody out!  I've
}  had more than enough of this.  This answer has gotten entirely too
}  silly.  You're all cancelled.  Now get out!
}
}  (various grumbles are heard as the actors leave the set)
}
} Well, supplicant, there's your answer, sort of.  Anyway, you owe the
} Oracle pictures of Euclid, Gauss, Bolyai, and Lobachevsky, all
} spinning in their graves.


598-03    (627kl dist, 3.9 mean)
Selected-By: Mark McCafferty <markm@gslmail.mincom.oz.au>

The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was:

> I saw an ad for a Satisfaxion modem.
> I'm going to get one, so I can get my rocks off remotely.
> What's Madonna's number?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} [Oracle, wrapped in a chamois bathroom, a fine snifter of
} Burgundian brandy warming in his righthand, dutifully types
} a five fingered message to the inquirant.  It is late.  The
} tourists have left The Halls of Supernal Bologna, and all of
} the students of The Oracle's Real Mid-Western Bible School and
} University of Cable Piracy are sequestered, each in his own cell,
} pencilling draft versions of future sermons and scams. All the
} moniters are dark save this single screen upon which the ORACLE
} types.  He works quickly, sometimes savoring a choice phrase,
} sometimes sipping the warmed liquor.  He seems impatient to
} finish this final message and return, for the night, to the bedroom
} (just upstage left) where, the door ajar, one can see the slow
} flicker of candle light and hear, softly and in tune, a woman
} softly humming tunes from _Das Gilgamesch-epos_.]
}
} Hrumph!  Don't you think the least little bit of abasement
} is called for?  Kids!  Why I remember when I was your age,
} how *I* would grovel.  But, oh _no_!, grovelling is too
} demeaning for you kids.  You get a new bit of hardware and
} it's "let's jot a note to the Oracle and ask for some favors"
} without so much as a how d'ya do, a genuflect, or nod!
} Oh, but we don't care, do we?  The Oracle will always answer
} back, the Oracle...
}
} [The Sage Respondant waxes so wroth that he accidentally
} knocks over a pile of code he had set for beta-testing
} tomorrow. From the inner chamber all humming ceases, and
} the woman comes into the room.]
}
} --Oricky, hunny.  Come to bed.  The wax is hot.
}
} --Okay, 'Donny.  I've got to answer this message first.
}
} --If it's Sean, tell him I'm not here.  You can do what
} you want with him on your own time.  But I swore no more
} threesomes with him. He's too selfish, and whiny, and...
}
} --Small?
}
} --Oricky!  You know I don't care about _that_!  But,
} since you brought it up...
}
} --No, no.  This isn't Sean.  Some guy just got a new
} hook-up and wants to ftp you, or hook into an on-line
} session.
}
} --Another one!  Honestly, the way I suffer for my public...
}
} --Well, I was just typing out the standard refusal.
}
} --No, no.  It's all those dweeky millions without any dates
} that made me what I am.  Patch me in.
}
} --But 'Donny, you're not recovered from the European tour yet.
}
} --You wouldn't understand.  An artist _must_ suffer.
} Okay.  Lights! Cameras!  Let's do this on one take!
}
}  [A crew of camera men and chorus boys appear.  Madonna
}   slips on her Monroe wig as the boys in the band take
}   up the beat...]
}
}  SOME MAY TIFF AND SOME MAY GIFF
}  AND TRY TO F-T-P,
}  THOUGH THEY ASPIRE THEY JUST AIN'T WIRED
}  TO GET INSIDE OF ME.
}
}  CALLOW BOYS WITH CABLE TOYS
}  GET HARDER EVERY NIGHT
}  DREAMING TO GET ACCESS TO
}  SOME SEXY REMOTE SITE
}
}  'CAUSE WE'RE LIVING IN A VIRTU-REAL WORLD
}  AND I AM A VIRTU-REAL GIRL (OH,OH)
}  YES WE'RE LIVING IN A VIRTU-REAL WORLD
}  AND I AM A VIRTU-REAL GIRL.
}
}  GOT NO REST, MY IMAGES NESTS
}  IN RANDOM MEMORY.
}  BOYISH TROOPS IN ENDLESS LOOPS
}  TRY TO CONNECT TO ME.
}
}  I FIDGET ALL MY DIGITALS
}  AND SPREAD MY SWEET SOFTWARE,
}  BUT THEY DON'T COME WITH RAM OR ROM
}  WITH RANGE FOR WHAT THEY DARE.
}
}  'CAUSE WE'RE LIVING IN A VIRTU-REAL WORLD
}  AND I AM A VIRTU-REAL GIRL (EH,EH)
}  YES WE'RE ALL LIVING IN A VIRTU-REAL WORLD
}  AND I AM A VIRTUAL GIRL.
}
}  SO I WAIT FOR SOME HOT CRAY
}  TO ITERATE MY GLEE.
}  A SWIVLE ROD WITH BACKBONE-BAUD
}  COULD GIVE ME PARITY.
}
}  SO SEND ENROUTE A SUPER BRUTE
}  WITH EVERY MOVE ROUTINE,
}  WHO'S KERMIT NULL'S NOT TERMINAL.
}  NOT CRIMINAL, BUT MEAN!
}
}  'CAUSE WE'RE LIVING IN A VIRTU-REAL WORLD
}  AND I AM A VIRTU-REAL GIRL. (OH, OH)
}  I SAID WE'RE LIVING IN A VIRTU-REAL WORLD
}  AND I AM A VIRTU-REAL GIRL.
}
}  A COLOR FAX OF GOOD HOT WAX,
}  A SCAN OF WHIPS AND CHAINS,
}  THE STEAMY SEX OF HYPERTEXT
}  CAN'T SATISFY MY PAINS.
}
}  SO HACK FOR ME A MACRO KEY,
}  A HARDWARE SETUP BOX,
}  AND I'LL PLAY SPORTS THROUGH ALL MY PORTS:
}  COM1 AND 2 AND AUX.
}
}  'CAUSE WE'RE LIVING IN A VIRTU-REAL WORLD
}  AND I AM A VIRTU-REAL GIRL (YEAH, YEAH)
}  LIVING IN A VIRTU-REAL WORLD
}  AND I AM A VIRTU-REAL GIRL....
}
}     (A VIRTU-REAL... A VIRTU-REAL... A VIRTU-REAL...)
}
}  [Fade out, full Dolby.]
}
} --Okay boys, that's a wrap.  See ya all tomorrow.  Come on
}   Oricky, that candle's not gonna wait all night. It'll be
}   too dark to read soon.
}
} --Okay, 'Donny.  What are we reading tonight?
}
} --Oh, I'm tired of Herodotus.  Why don't we just relax
}   tonight and do Juvenal? I'm not in a very serious mood.
}   And you know what your hexameters do to me..
}
} --Wha hoopla!  Here I come.  If your fans only knew.
}
} --They don't listen to me for my brains.  What my
}   fans don't know won't thrill them.  Come on, hunny,
}   the water bed's warm.
}
} --Wait, just got to type in one last thing:
}     "You owe the Oracle a complete set of Donny Osmond records.
}      We had to hock most of ours for the sex change operation...
}      Where did you think "Madonna" so suddenly appeared from,
}      eh?"


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