remmers
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The Garden
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Oct 3 01:48 UTC 1994 |
"Anyway," says I, "even if you *do* remember to scrub the begonias,
chances are some weasel is going to kick dirt on them in the middle
of the night."
"I don't understand what you're talking about," says he.
"I'm talking about the futility of laundering your garden," says I.
Quite aside from the side effects of detergent on the poor
shrubberies, the dirt-laden character of the environment is in-
conducive to maintenance of a cleanly state. Forget the weasels.
A good strong wind will do as much harm."
"Now I understand what you're talking about, but I think you're
nuts," says he.
Confound the insolence, thought I. Anger made me speechless. An-
ticipating that space aliens would momentarily burst through the
kitchen door and take us captive, rendering this exchange moot,
I held my peace. A long moment passed, but no aliens appeared.
Luckily, a mighty earthquake struck, the ground split in two un-
derneath the very house, and we were swallowed up into oblivion,
thus saving the day.
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janc
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response 3 of 6:
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Oct 24 03:31 UTC 1995 |
"Not since I was about four years old," I said, peering at her over my
glasses. "And I do believe I'd like to leave it at that."
"You're always the same," she said.
"Only since I was about four years old," I pointed out, with reason on
my side. "I believe in maintaining perfect unanimity with all my past
selves, with the possible exception of the one who once asked Doris
Chilpepper to join me in a congo line. Ensuing events proved
conclusively that there is no percentage in ever doing anything
different."
"What happened?"
I rolled my eyes and jabbed my thumb over my shoulder, pointing at the
hide of a giant pink teddy bear which was pinned to the wall behind me
with a large number of nails of various sizes.
"I see," she said. "And will you have french fries with that?"
"Not since I was about four years old," I said, peering at her over my
glasses. "And I do believe I'd like to leave it at that."
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