Fighting Global Terrorism One Little Debbie Cake at a Time

Another HIYLH Animation:

Little Debbie v. Jihad

It's Time We Had a Conversation About Cloning (It's Time We Had a Conversation About Cloning)

We've come a long way from the nascency of cloning, wherein we witnessed crude and rudimentary experimentation progress to ever more complex and sophisticated forms, id est,  from Sylvester Stallone's Rocky movies, to single-cell organisms, to sheep. Now, standing on the shoulders of giants, we find ourselves on the mountaintop, at the cusp of a new era. Arrayed before us, as far as the eye can see, is the fertile crescent of human endeavor we call "Possiblity." Fortunate, indeed, are we who now can see that which before we could not see: our future, nay our very destiny. And this, too, we call "Possibility," because, having exhausted our supply of cliches and hackneyed phrases, we cannot think of what else to call it. And so we conclude that our future and our destiny both share the same name, which, (the reader will recall from the previous sentence), we have dubbed, "Possibility." Could they be related -- the future and our destiny?  They sure look alike.  They have the same nose. Which brings us, mercilessly, to  the next paragraph. 

Now that cloning has become mere child's play, should we let our children play with it? What about the rest of us who are not our children? Will we be able to resist the compulsion to clone ourselves? Confronted at every turn with the choice to clone or not, will we be able to foresee each and every...what?...ramification? No!  Our old friend, "Possibility!"  If we choose to clone ourselves repeatedly, how will we treat the opportunity to be present but not paying attention in multiple venues simultaneously?

 More importantly, will each one of our cloned selves be taxed, and if so, at the same rate? Can we claim the dependent deductions for our clones? Or can we be a cloned person filing jointly? As with all things having to do with Internal Revenue, the answer is "It depends." 

If taxation is not your bailiwick (if it is, please do not clone yourself; we'll pay you), you may wish to consider a few additional scenarios (a/k/a "Possibilities") which you have not, heretofore, considered.  For example, will you be allowed to clone enough of yourself(ves) to outvote the other shareholders, perhaps even take over the board of directors one fine day?  What about place holding while waiting on line at the Registry of Motor Vehicles or seat saving at the movies? Ethical?  Or un? Who can say?  Ordinarily, Time would tell, but in this case, Time aint talkin', at least not without a big, fat incentive.

And what about the following? If we are already unlucky in the uncloned state, will our clones just carry on the tradition, like all of us having to sit through unremittingly boring lectures constantly, or always bumping our head(s) absent-mindedly on the same low-hanging branches distributed unevenly throughout the town? And what if we never have anything good to wear -- exponentially? It's enough to make you dizzy and a little nauseous.  Eat a piece of raw ginger.  You'll feel better.

Speaking of eating, better be prepared to just have to buy groceries nonstop, because youse will always be eating yourself(ves) out of house and home. See how quickly "Possibility" has changed its name to "Frahnkunshteen?" Hate to say it, but someone had to say it, and Time, as you know, refuses to say it. Don't shoot the messenger, OK?  You can slap the messenger around a little bit for show, but that's it. No shooting.

Maybe we should climb back down off the mountaintop and re-think this whole cloning thing. Possibility will just have to wait for something else. And, anyway, we're afraid of heights.

   

THINK WE CAN'T HYPNOTIZE YOU? WE JUST DID.

Warning

     Never consent to be hypnotized by anyone claiming that you cannot be hypnotized into falling in love with them or giving them a mortgage on your home while under hypnosis.  This is utter nonsense of the highest magnitude, and such persons are charlatans. Never consent to be hypnotized absent a quid pro quo. A song from the era of the crooners (Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Jerry Lewis...OK, not Jerry Lewis -- sorry, France) instructed:  "The Best Things in Life Are Free."  This, too, is a croc.  The best things in life cost plenty, and top-notch hypnosis is no exception.  Anyone who tells you that they will hypnotize you and expect nothing in return is a fraud or a fool or a frool. Never trust any hypnotist who claims that they have only your best interest at heart and would never, ever take advantage of you or humiliate you while you were under their spell (e.g., asking you to disrobe and reveal all of your secret passcodes and the like while they filmed the whole sordid affair).  Ha ha!  What a joke! Anyone who feeds you this line is surely not a certified hypnotist, and may, in fact, be dangerous, and should be reported to the authorities, or, at the very least, to Oprah Winfrey. Anyone who claims that you will feel "refreshed" or "at peace" or "safe" upon your re-ascent to the conscious world, instead of, say, violated in some vague and ambiguous way that you can't quite put your finger on (because you were under hypnosis when it occurred, but you have a nagging feeling that it, in fact, occurred) is a bald-faced liar and a shanda to the profession, to boot. Never sign any contract agreeing to release the hypnotist from all liability in connection with the procedure until after you are in a hypnotic state.  In fact, never sign any contract with the hypnotist at all until after you are in the hypnotic state. Disregard all assertions that you cannot be hypnotized on-line. Poppycock, if we may be permitted to say so. Do not confuse us real hypnotists for politicians (though you may surely see several similarities) or bond traders, or diet gurus or just plain old gurus. A real hypnotist will not guarantee preposterous results such as (South Africa). Indeed, you will see no results whatsoever, and until and unless you begin to sense that you have been ripped off or otherwise taken for the grandest of rides arising from your interaction with the hypnotist, you can be assured that the process has been a monumental failure. If you have been dedicated to a pre-conceived notion, or any notion, so conceived and so dedicated, that you will profit in even the most imperceptible of ways from the exercise in which you are about to engage, allow us to disabuse you of that notion anon.   Do not thank us for our brutal sincerity.  Your gratitude is of no moment, and besides, we cannot take it to the bank. But cry not for us (Argentina).  We shall have our just desserts at the after-party. 

Acknowledgement  

      I acknowledge that, at best, I skimmed the above-referenced WARNING, and likely, did not read it at all, but even if I did read it, did not understand the half of it, because I am lazy and impulsive, and want instant gratification just like everyone else, and have pretty much come to the conclusion that You are judgment-proof, anyway, so what difference does it make.

Definitions

     Wherever the term "You" appears, it shall refer to a jug of wine and a loaf of bread.  Wherever the term "We" appears in shall be understood in the royal sense where the context so requires.  Wherever the singular form appears, it shall be construed and understood to incorporate the plural and vice versa. Likewise, when it is good and ready and not before, the masculine form will get to the "to do list" so meticulously prepared by the feminine form, and memorialized on little paper notes affixed, ingeniously, to the masculine form's garments hanging innocently in the closet and also stuffed, furtively, in the pockets of the aforesaid. 

Terms of Use

     After many hours of careful and dedicated study, "We" have determined that the Terms of Use of the "Girls Gone Wild" franchise are hereby adopted and incorporated herein by reference. The Girls are, likewise, adopted.   By agreeing to be hypnotized by "We," "You" hereby consent to do that which we suggest, no matter to what degree your disbelief must be suspended, willingly or otherwise.  If you are 18 or younger, Mazel Tov.

Miscellaneous

     Odds and ends, chotchkes, as it were.

     Mumbo Jumbo

     Doubtlessyoufeelthat"You"aresmarterthan"We"areandareincapableofbeinghypnotizedbutpointoffactyouhavebeeninahypnoticstatesincethedayyouwerebornandareassusceptibletomanipulationasanyonenomatterhowmuchyouresistsostopwastingourtimeand goaheadandsignonthedottedlineandsureweacceptEurosasaformofpayment"You"love"We"because"We"areirresistablesendusallyourmoneydoitnowdoitnowdoitnowyouaregettingsleepyaren'tyou?When youawakeyouwillfeelrefreshedbutalsovaguelyrippedoffdon'tworryit'snatural.

You Can Take the Driving Test as Many Times as You Want But You Never Get a Second Chance to Say "You Never Get a Second Chance" For the First Time After You Already Said It.

How long has it been since you last took a driver's test?  5 years? 10 years? 100 years? 100,000 years? Holy Moses!  Just how old are you, Methuselah?  Mind if we call you Methuselah? We were going to call you "Meth" for short, but some people (the stupid ones) would take that the wrong way, so we'll stick with the full name.

Well, now, Methuselah, you may think you are a great driver and know all the rules of the road.    Care to have a friendly wager?   Take our little practice test (based on an actual practice test) and we'll see how much of a menace you are. For every question you get right, score 5 points. For every question we get right, send us a dollar.

Click on the link below to watch a quick demonstration.

www.http//thisboguslinkdoesnotworkbecauseGeorgeSorossabotageditinyetanotherexampleofhowGlennBeckwasrightabouthimhereallyistryingtocontroltheeconomytogetherwithhissmarmyHolocaustsurvivingfriends

Link above not working?

___________________________________

Actual Practice Questions

(Read each question below out loud [in a an exaggerated fake British accent] while waiting on line to purchase tickets to see Al Pacino in Merchant of Venice at the Broadhurst on Broadway, and click on the answer that you think best exemplifies the following statement: "The shortest distance between 2 points is not having to change planes in Newark."

Number 1

When planning to make a left turn across an intersection while waiting for the traffic to clear, your front tires should be turned:


A.  Out

B.  They should definitely be turned out.

C.   Yes, yes. They are all turned out.  They look nice.

Link above still not working?

Number 2

When you see a "Roadwork Ahead" sign you should:

A. Shout out the window: "My tax dollars are paying for this!  Look sharp there, you!"


B. They should definitely be turned out.

C. Have known there's not really anybody working out here, and we all slowed down for nothing.


How we doin' so far?  Care to play double or nothin'?


Numbuh 3

You should drive on the shoulder to pass a car only:

A. if Anwar al-Awlaki is lying on the shoulder.* 

B. when you see the whites of their eyes.

C. Only what?  What is it you're trying to say, Methuselah?


Noomber 4 

When you see a flashing yellow light at an intersection you should:


A.  Yes, you should.

B.  Everybody does it.
C.  Slow down!  Slow down!  I can't understand a word you're saying! She called you a what?

Nahmbah 5

Scanning the road ahead for hazards helps drivers:


A.  Forget about the hazards on the road behind.

B.  Save the hazards to a file to be downloaded at a later time.

C.  Both A and B are correct.

Now We Are Six

When you are driving on the freeway and the vehicle in front of you is a large truck, you should drive:

A.  What is a freeway?

B.   Where we live, we have to pay tolls so that the government can afford to erect signs that say: "Roadwork Ahead."

C.   We pay through the nose, actually.

Are you asleep, Methuselah? Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! We're almost done.  It doesn't look good you dozing off behind the wheel like that. What would Anwar al-Awlaki, say? Hey, do you suppose he uses an alias for takeout orders?  "Hi, I'm picking up the large 3-cheese pizza for al.' "  Maybe you should get an alias for takeout orders, Methuselah. "I'm picking up the schwarma sandwich for 'Meth.' " Oh, right, we tried that already. Never mind. I know! If you want to see a hysterical video of a cat scratching Anwar al-Awlaki on the butt, click the link below:


www.http//Anwaral-Awakisctratchedonthebutthystericalvideo
[1 billion views]

 
Number 7
To stop in an emergency situation when your car does not have ABS brakes, you should:

A.  Get some ABS brakes.

B.  Buy some ABS brakes.

C.  Purchase some ABS brakes.
Score:
 
George Soros - 6 million
 
Glenn Beck - 0
.......................................
 
Well, how did you do?
 
That's not good at all.
 
Hand over the keys, Meth.
 
And send us some money.
 
 
*Any similarity to Anwar al-Awlaki is strictly coincidental.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Link above still not working?

O Brave New World, That Has Such One-Dimensional Characters In It!




"This is the last time I order the kishke," he thought.

 

For a Second There, Liechtenstein Thought it Was Getting a Huge Windfall from an Auction House, But No, It was Roy.

Pop artist Roy Lichtenstein's painting "Ohhh . . . Alright . . ." sold at auction in New York at Christie's  for a record $42.6 million. The cartoon-style painting, featuring a close-up of a young woman holding a telephone, with her response in a speech bubble, went to an anonymous phone bidder.
 
Andy Warhol, the presumptuous little soup can painter, one of whose cans also sold for millions at the auction, but not as many millions as Lichtenstein's painting, had no comment.
 
The Principality of Liechtenstein also had no comment.
 
Some people have speculated that Liechtenstein was the anonymous phone bidder for the Lichtenstein, but Liechtenstein had no comment.
 
The anonymous phone bidder also had no comment.
 
The only one talking was the money.
 
And the art listened.

Oh For Pete's Sake! Not Another Country & Western Song About the Municipal Building Program During the Administration of Krishnadeva Raya, Ruler of the Medieval Hindu Vijaynagara Empire!

Nice Hat Noseys

The 536 Socks* You Meet in Heaven ...................................................................................................................................(*that you thought had been lost in a lifetime of dryer loads)

HIYLH is down for maintenance and will be back up shortly.

FALSE!
HIYLH IS ON STRIKE!

FALSE!
HIYLH HAS BEEN INFILTRATED AND HACKED!

We would apologize for the inconvenience except that, here at HIYLH, we really don't go in for that sort of thing.

I HAD LUNCH WITH THE ECONOMY AND GOT STUCK WITH THE CHECK!

The Economy walked into La Maison de la Food, looking, I thought, a jot sluggish, and made a bee-line for the table in the back in the corner in the dark where the proprietor, Flipjack Wilson, had thoughtfully reserved a niche for anonymous conversation, and possibly some hanky-panky. As the Economy slid unnoticed into the seat opposite, I didn't bother to get up because my shoes had become stuck to a syrupy film on the floor recently appliqued, no doubt, by a youngster not yet schooled in the fine art of pancake adornment.

"You're looking a jot sluggish," I said, peering over the top of my plastic menu, to which my nose had also just become affixed owing to the handiwork of the self-same junior patron whose sojourn at this very chair clutching this very menu had, doubtless, immediately preceded mine.

"What can I tell you?" retorted the Economy signaling the barmaid with a salacious wink. "Everywhere I go it's the same old story: Kvetch, kvetch, kvetch. That's all I hear night and day. "

"But, Night and Day, you are the one," I replied.  "Only you beneath the Moon or under the Sun, that's all people talk about these days."

"Well, it's enough to drive you batty," sighed the Economy. "One moment I feel so up, the next moment, not so much. I need a drink."

The buxom, young waitress now stood before us wide-eyed and bushy-tailed hanging onto our every word, possibly using some kind of invisible crampon, but I couldn't be certain.

"I'll have anything with tonic," snapped the Economy. "What I need is a good tonic. Bring that and some humble pie, and a heaping portion of sour grapes." The waitress dutifully recorded this instruction on a little pad of paper that she produced ingeniously somewhere from the depths of her pocket, although, I suppose, it could have been her soul.  "He'll have whatever he's having," the Economy continued cynically, gesturing towards me without so much as a glance in my direction.

"Bring me some varnish and a clean cloth," I uttered laboriously, my speech slurred by my bottom lip which now, too, had become melded to the part of the menu advertising (somewhat ironically) a Tongue Sandwich Special with a Half-Sour and a Dr. Brown's.

Behind the wall, just feet away from where we sat, we could hear the sounds of shattering glass and plates crashing to the floor, followed by a great wail and cry in a language that was at once strange and familiar using words also strange and familiar, but also unprintable. Every time the swinging doors to the kitchen were flung open revealing the inner-workings of the  operation, we were eyewitnesses to the unfolding sturm und drang. Dishwashers ran around like headless chickens waiving mops and brooms frantically, and sous chefs knelt over the fallen victuals, selecting choice portions for re-plating. Meanwhile the maitre d'   stood on a counter belting out a soulful theme from Flight of the Valkyries. In the way back, through the haze, we could see some actual headless chickens hanging around, smoking with the sax player and an unidentified groupie.

I was rather plussed by this startling tableau.  But the Economy seemed non.

"Look, I'm not trying to make excuses," the Economy piped up.  "It's like Roosevelt said: 'The only thing we have is fear.' "

"I don't think that was the precise quote," I corrected.

"Don't be a wiseguy, boychick," said the Economy.  Remember what Kennedy (Sorensen) said: 'Ask not what your country can do for you; ask: what have you done for me lately?' "

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that wasn't the line, either," I said.  

But the Economy was having none of it. For just at that moment, a runaway train came careening around the corner, and the Economy leaped up, ran outside, and hopped aboard.

"Where are you going?" I cried to the Economy through a hole I poked in the menu with my nose.  "I don't want your damn sour grapes!"

"Then try the Humble Pie," the Economy called back as the runaway train pulled away.  "It's good for you!"

The server arrived with our order and the bill on which she had written: "Thanx! Have a Nice day! Melanie."  Next to a picture of a smiley face.   

"Screwed by the Economy, again" I thought, measuring out the varnish carefully by pouring it all over myself. Melanie disappeared in search of a doggy bag and some mints.

ROTARY CALLERS, PLEASE STAY ON THE LINE. AND WHILE YOU'RE ON THE LINE, PONDER THIS: WHAT IS A "ROTARY CALLER" AND WHY ARE YOU ONE? DO YOU TURN A CRANK TO START UP YOUR CAR? DO YOU EVEN OWN A CAR? WHAT KIND OF A CAR DO YOU OWN? IS IT AN EDSEL? DOES IT HAVE CUP HOLDERS? YOU KNOW THAT IT DOESN'T! WHY DO YOU PRETEND THAT IT DOES? WHEN YOU DRIVE UP TO THE TOLLBOOTH, DO YOU SAY TO THE TOLLTAKER (BECAUSE WE KNOW YOU DON'T HAVE ONE OF THOSE TRANSPONDER GADGETS VELCROED TO YOUR WINDSHIELD, OH, YES, WE KNOW!) DO YOU EVER SAY: "CAST YOUR EYES AWAY FROM MY EDSEL; IT IS TOO HIDEOUS, AS IT HAS NO CUPHOLDERS"? OR DO YOU JUST KEEP TO THE BACK ROADS TO SAVE A BUCK TWENTY-FIVE (MORE IF YOUR EDSEL HAS AN EXTRA AXEL) AND AVOID THE EMASCULATION? DO YOU DRIVE AROUND AND AROUND THROUGH THE FORESTS AT NIGHT LOOKING VAINLY FOR THE PATH OF BREADCRUMBS YOU DROPPED BEHIND YOU SO AS NOT TO GET LOST ON THE RETURN TRIP, ONLY TO GROW TIRED, SLOUCHING IN THE BACK SEAT OF YOUR EDSEL, WHISPERING A PATHETIC KIND OF FALSETTO INTO THE MOUTHPIECE OF YOUR ROTARY PHONE, "OPERATOR I THINK MAYBE I JUST HEARD A BEAR," BUT REALLY, IT WAS JUST A CHIPMUNK (THE ONE, BTW, WHO ATE YOUR PUNY, LITTLE BREADCRUMBS), WELL, DO YOU? IF YOU REARRANGE THE LETTERS THAT SPELL "CHIPMUNK" AND GET RID OF SOME OF THE BULKY ONES, YOU END UP WITH "CHUMP." FITTING, WOULDN'T YOU SAY? AND WHAT ABOUT SOMETIMES YOU TRY TO DIAL THE NUMBER WITH A PENCIL, BUT IT SLIPS OUT OF YOUR HAND BEFORE IT REACHES THE INTENDED NUMBER, AND THE DIAL GOES CAREENING BACK TO ITS HOME BASE AND YOU HAVE TO HANG UP AND START ALL OVER AGAIN? IS IT ENOUGH TO MAKE YOU SAY: "TO HECK WITH THE DARN THING?"

NEWS ALERT: WITH ONE HALF OF ONE PER CENT OF PRECINCTS REPORTING, HONK IF YOU LIKE HONKING CAN NOW PROJECT THAT KIM JONG-IL WILL APPOINT HIS SON TO BE THE NEXT DICTATOR OF NORTH KOREA.

TONIGHT'S OTHER BIG WINNERS:

Robert Mugabe, Zimbabwe

Omar al-Bashir, Sudan (unopposed)

Than Shwe, Burma (unopposed)

King Abdullah, Saudi Arabia (unopposed)

Hu Jintao, China (unopposed)

Sayyid Ali Khamenei, Iran (unopposed)

Isayas Afewerki, Eritrea (unopposed)

G. Berdymuhammedov, Turkmenistan (write-in candidate)*

Muammar al-Qaddafi, Libya (unopposed)

Islam Karimov, Uzbekistan (unopposed)

Bashar al-Assad, Syria (unopposed)

Raúl Castro, Cuba (unopposed)**

Teodoro Obiang Nguema, Equatorial Guinea (unopposed)

Aleksandr Lukashenka, Belarus (unopposed)

Meles Zenawi, Ethiopia (unopposed)

Idriss Déby, Chad (unopposed)

King Mswati III, Swaziland (unopposed)

Paul Biya, Cameroon (unopposed)

Hosni Mubarak, Egypt (unopposed)

* Write-in rules required that the candidate's name be spelled correctly on the ballot. The candidate benefited, apparently, from the fact that his name is "G.," which is relatively easy to spell.

** Candidate will fill out the term-for-life of his predecessor.

A ballot initiative to make it a capital offense to respond to an interrogative phrase with the word "so" was defeated handily.

More news as it happens.

OBJECTS IN MIRROR ARE CLOSER THAN THEY APPEAR