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1998 Just Add #1 Just Add #2 Just Add #3 1999 Just Add #4 Just Add #5 Just Add #6 Just Add #7 Just Add #8 Just Add #9 Just Add #10 Just Add #11 Just Add #12 Just Add #13 Just Add #14 2000 Just Add #15 Just Add #16 Just Add #17 Just Add #18 2001 Just Add #19 Just Add #20 Just Add #21 2002 Just Add #22 Just Add #23 Just Add #24 Just Add #25 Just Add #26 Just Add #27 Just Add #28 Just Add #29 Just Add #30 Just Add #31 Just Add #32 Just Add #33 2003 Just Add #34 Just Add #35 Just Add #36 Just Add #37 Just Add #38 Just Add #39 Just Add #40 Just Add #41 2004 Just Add #42 |
 May 1999Many months of preparation had gone into this moment. He had done all his research. He knew how to account for windspeed. He knew how to mix the prerequisite chemicals. He would do a thorough job of it, and that was that. But this was the moment that the rubber hit the road. So, ready for what would befall him, our hero made his way out onto the deserted highway, off to complete his mission. Unfortunately, he forgot to look both ways, and learned how to become one with the front grille of a Mack truck. Perhaps we will never truly know why *did* the chicken cross the road. You can tell that the school year is nearly over. I actually thought that was funny, until such a point as I actually wrote it. Then I realized what I had written, and understood how unfunny it was. But I left it there. Why, you ask? Well, because I thought if I wrote something truly pathetic, it would perhaps inspire you, gentle or ungentle reader (I am not Ann Landers; I make no such assumptions about my readership. If you wish to be ungentle, that is your perogative. Who am I to demand that my readership is gentle (this, by the way, has been totally parenthetical (which means that it is by the way (or not really related to the main thread of the story)))) to your own heights of creativity. Maybe I heard one too many Paul Harvey "And that's the *rest* of the story" shpiels as a kid. Maybe I ate one too many jalapenos before writing this (be intensely thankful that the internet does not yet involve the olfactory senses), on the other hand, maybe I did not. Either way, you'll never know. Unless I tell you. And I've forgotten what I had said I was going to forget last month, which might mean that I forgot it. Or might not. I feel like the Electric Monk some days, but some days not. If you don't know what the Electric Monk is, that's another story. Which we can deal with later. It is not the same as a chip monk though (or his friend the fish friar). If you think that these are the random meanderings of someone who's a little short on sleep and is desperate to hit the draconian deadline imposed by his evil, yet loving editor, you might be right. But, then again, I might just be like this anyway. You'll never know. Or will you? Why did the chicken cross the road? If a mime falls in the forest, does it make a sound? If a chicken crosses a mime crossing a road, who is more cross? The chicken or the mime? And what about those bovines, anyway? Why did the cow cross the road? How come nobody ever asks the *really* important questions? Such as, if a university student graduates, but doesn't yet have their diploma, do they really have their degree? If not, why not? Explain. No, that's an exam question. (7 minutes left...) You see, the trick to this column is that I find 20 minutes and just start writing whatever pops into my head in the space of that 20 minutes, yet try to remain relevant. Or at least somewhat coherent. Or not. Depends really on how I feel when I write. Right now I just feel kinda silly. Which is cool, as far as that goes, but there's nobody here other than my roommate to feel silly with and my roommate is not nearly silly enough. (5 minutes left...) Which brings me back to my original point. If a chicken has the people, and has the plans, does that make it a good candidate for President? Well, no, that wasn't my original point. My original point is that string is a lot of fun to play with. There are many and various useful things that you can do with a piece of string. Okay, so that wasn't my original point either. Maybe my original point was that I didn't really have any original point. I'm quite prepared to deal with that. Actually, that sounds pretty good. And there's only 3 minutes left. tick... tick... tick... flea... newt... "She turned me into a newt! I got better..." newton... Hercules... Xena... warrior... legion... senator... Ottawa... politics... chicken... so I guess it all does tie together. Don't you dare even *try* to figure that last bit out. I haven't yet. *time* |