Christoph Reuss wrote:
Well, after all, all Prodigal Son ever wanted was to get
daddy's blessing for 'pooning Moby Dick ("we" caught Saddam
The-man-who-at-one-time-tried-to-kill-my-dad Hussein).
And after he "got him", he still stays commander-in-fief !?
Why can't he be content with reading My Pet Goat and crunching pretzels?
"He" probably would be -- if Dick and Rummy et al. didn't keep
hitting him in the head with a 2-by-4 (so to speak) to
keep him attentive to his surround (what could Jacob
von Uexkull(sp?) have learned from studying Dubya?).... As for reading
"My Pet Goat", blame that on "My wife used to be an
intellectual [school librarian] before I married her"....
I did a Google search
a few days ago, and found that some persons have noticed
before I did the resemblance to Alfred E Newman
Now, all you neurolinguists, once again, where do words go to die?
\brad mccormick
Chris
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--
Let your light so shine before men,
that they may see your good works.... (Matt 5:16)
Prove all things; hold fast that which is good. (1 Thes 5:21)
<![%THINK;[SGML+APL]]> Brad McCormick, Ed.D. / [EMAIL PROTECTED]
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