“I believe in an America where millions of Americans believe in an America that’s the America millions of Americans believe in. That’s the America I love.” — Mitt Romney. “I think all right-thinking people in this country are sick and tired of being told that ordinary, decent people are fed up in this country with being sick and tired. I’m certainly not! And I’m sick and tired of being told that I am.
One thing that always gets me about Monty Python’s movies is their historical accuracy. No, really. Yes, they are comedy, and yes there are ridiculous situations. But the Python team always played their comedy straight, and part of that was placing everything in a context full of accurate detail. For example, consider medieval combat. The Hollywood version has people running around, leaping onto horses, swords clashing at high speed, and so on.
A local pet store has a sign up that says Parakeets will make your dreams come true! This may be a justified claim, under certain circumstances. For instance, if you’ve ever had a dream about giant Marshmallow Peeps coming to life and pecking you in revenge, a parakeet can certainly make that dream come true. More appealingly, though, if you’ve ever wanted to be like Saint Francis of Assisi, that’s a dream parakeets have the power to help you with.
Every time a web site asks me to list hobbies, I get the urge to put “golf, strangling small animals, and masturbation”. Unfortunately, there are far too many people who wouldn’t recognize the reference.
OK, this is the most obsessive e-mail I’ve received in a long, long time: I read your HUMAN_DNA.H from GNU humor pages, and I like it very much. However, I don’t get it why you name Penis variable *jt, and Vagina *p? Does jt and p stand for anything? (Any complaints about the humorous quality of the joke should, of course, be addressed to British Airways, Ingrams Drive, Redditch.) I must confess that there is an extra layer of joke hidden there.
We went to the British Council Library to take back some library books XQ had borrowed. On the way we passed the American Cultural Center (sic). It wasn’t what I was expecting; it was a quiet, featureless white building. It wasn’t covered in neon, and it didn’t have any giant paintings of Mickey Mouse on the side. It didn’t even have a flag. The British Council Library had a selection of video cassettes for hire.