Example:
Several years ago while doing research for a project, I came across a book that went into great detail about the subject I was researching. I bought the book and as I do, tore sections of a random paragraph or two out of the book and searched for them.
Bingo — the “author” of the book had lifted pages and pages of text verbatim from other books, like from “Great Expectations.” He also claimed to be involved in extensive nuclear fission for the Army in his basement.
I ran into him at an event and asked if I could ask him some questions about the book, specifically some of the paragraphs he lifted from other authors. “It’s all classified so I can’t talk about it other than what’s in the book, ya weirdo. Stop stalking me.”
The classic “it’s classified” and “Oppo, ya weirdo” and “Keep your hands off my wife’s dress” stuff. I resolved to tell a couple of other PhD black ops nuclear researchers I know to steer clear of this kook. I know I will!
I never lie…
… but you sure are very quiet, devoid of comment, when I show up in my leisure suit, in sunglasses, with a martini for intern parties.
That was you??? Wow!!!
Yeah. Only once. The porn ‘stache didn’t help.
On a recent trip to Seattle, my brother was showing us the town by driving through downtown, including the notorious CHOP area. It so happened, as it often does there, Pride Month festivities were in full swing, and many streets were blocked off so that rainbow bros and babes could stumble around from bar to bar without getting hit by cars. My brother was getting increasingly frustrated, however, because he wanted to take us to his local version of In ‘N’ Out, known as Dick’s. He couldn’t get there from where we were because of all the festivity-enforced barricades. Instead, all of the detours were leading us father and farther away from our goal. I rather dryly noted that it was extremely ironic, because Gay Pride was driving us away from Dick’s… I’ll see myself out…
Okay, the Seattle cops are going to have to seal off that joke.
Dear Penthouse Forum…
I wouldn’t have believed it if it hadn’t happened to me. So Ginger and Mary Ann were wrestling in a Jell-O pit to see who would get my affection that day, when Jeannie and Elly May showed up . . .
…, but then they all kicked me out. The giggling that I heard as I slunk away still haunts me to this day…
Vulcans never bluff.
Yet they play Fizzbin?
They ain’t getting rich doing it.
Dear IRS:
I have 182 dependents.
Always have.
Please send refund check.
— Oppo
What Natalie Wood was doing in his garage is anybody’s guess, but my uncle assured me that everything was legal and above board. So, anyway, we made a quick run to the 7-11 and loaded up on Zagnut bars and grape diet Faygo. Afterward, we ran by the high school track to see if Zeb and Darla had picked up the camper. They hadn’t, so we left a note telling them to meet us at the Joyce Kilmer Forest parking lot.
When we got back to Uncle Ralph’s house, the garage door was open and his mower was missing. It didn’t take us long to catch up to Natalie, who by this time was blowing three sheets to the wind from all the Genesee Cream Ale she’d been chugging during the horseshoe tournament earlier that evening. We got her safely loaded into the car, and I drove the mower back Uncle Ralph’s. We needed to get going to meet Zeb and Darla on time, so we high-tailed it towards Joyce Kilmer.
Wouldn’t you know it, but just when we got out onto the four-lane, we blew a tire. We were fixing it, with Natalie passed out in the front seat, or so we thought. We had just taken the tire off, when she roused up, started the car, and put it in gear. Uncle Ralph’s knee cap was crushed, we lost the lug nuts, and Natalie scraped along for about 25 yards before she went into the ditch.
Since cell phones hadn’t been invented yet, it was up to me to walk for help, or a telephone at least. Natalie, unaware of what she’d done, passed out again. This time I took the keys, told Uncle Ralph to try not to panic, that I’d be back as soon as I could, and I took off back toward town. It was only about a mile, but it seemed like an eternity.
And that’s when the UFO beamed me aboard. Next thing I remembered, it was 1976 and we were at a Bicentennial picnic.