============================================================================ ********* *** *** ****** ********* *** *** *** * *** *** *** *** ** *** ********* ******* *** *** *** *** ** *** *** *** *** ** *** he *** *** umus *** ** eport THE Electronic Fun Zone dedicated to fertilizing Mother Earth in the finest possible tradition. Serving Mother since the 1950s. Issue 008, Vol I August 1988 copyright (c) 1988 caren park chief bottle washer, owner, publisher, editor, other stuff all rights reserved, and all that legal rigamarole ============================================================================ A very few words::: If those among you would kindly send in junk that you have no other use for, stuff that you read and find humorous, filth that no one else will take, stories absurd or preposterous, news that isn't fit to line litterboxes anywhere, if you would send those gems to us here at The Humus Report, we'd appreciate it. Our address will be given to you near the end of our report. We will cull from the post office box all death threats and denunciations, and print what we can of whatever is left. The rest is up to you... We would appreciate it if: (1) the sending of copyrighted material for publication was sent ONLY if you also send along a legal release for us to use that material; (2) if you should see non-attributed copyrighted material in our stuff, please let us know ASAP so we can take appropriate actions; (3) if you like what we do here, please donate whatever you feel appropriate, so that we can continue to bring you this stuff month after month... I also have a program called CKP-MSG.ARC which contains virtually everything you will see here and then some. For a nominal cost per year, I will provide the latest copy of the ibm/compat program AND the latest updates of the datafile to you... address inquiries about this program and/or the datafile to the address near the end of our report... We can thank Don Marquis, of Archy and Mehitabel fame, for our Purple Horse, horse manure, prime numbers, some Idaho Police, Gay Bob and Straight Steve, and many more for their contributions to this month's fertilizings... So, without further adieu, on with the show... ============================================================================ "Abandon hope, all ye who enter here..." ============================================================================ August is a wonderful month for humus breedings, it appears... so many different categories of humusites that it's hard to know where to begin... Well, I guess the beginning is as good a place as any: Elisha Graves Otis (August 3rd, 1811) gave us the elevator; Nicholas-Jacque Conte (4th, 1755), the modern pencil; John Heathcoat (7th, 1783), lace-making machinery (which, if I remember my history eventually led to computers as we know them today); Rudi Gernreich (8th, 1922), a man definitely head of his time, with the 1st women's topless swimsuits and the miniskirt; and the 16th of August, 1884, saw the birth of Hugo Gernsback, one of the men chiefly responsible for turning science fiction into an almost-respectable literary art form... Neil Armstrong began his long step toward astronautic immortality (5th, 1930) only four days before Betty Boop, that curvaceous lady of the black and white movie set... Cecil B DeMille, director of God AND Charleton Heston, was born on the 12th in 1881... Lucy Stone (13th, 1818), one of the original pioneers in Women's Rights... Napoleon Bonaparte (1769) and Julia Child (1912) share the 15th, if only separated by a few years... Mae West, the "...come up and see me sometime" vixen of the silver screen, born the 17th in 1892... Ray Bradbury (22nd, 1920), a man who sees things differently than the average human... Althea Gibson (25th, 1927), definitely a lady before her times, was the first black tennis player to win a major event (the US Open, I believe)... and, last, but not least, the REAL creator of the Frankenstein monster, Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, born on the 30th in 1797... If you are interested in horror, look her up... The first of August has always been a busy day, historically: the first US Census (1790); the Whisky Rebellion (1794); burials were prohibited within the San Francisco city limits on this day in 1901); California (if you believe this, I've some prime mountain-top view swamp land for sale) introduced its sales tax for Education (1953); and, First Class postage went up to 4 cents (1958)... Columbus left Europe in search of spices and silks on the 3rd (1492)... wonder what he would think of his "discovery" were he around today? And we think that Wrong Way Corrigan got up on the wrong side of his vehicle? Dom Perignon invents something fizzy for Maurice Chevalier to talk about (champagne, on the 4th in 1693)... The US levies its first income tax (3% of income over $800... can we wish for a touch of the old days returning?) on the 5th in 1861... The Atomic Era truly begins with the slagging of Hiroshima and Nagasaki (6th and 9th, 1945)... The only national holiday to be celebrated in August occurs on the 8th... it's the anniversary of the resignation from the presidency by Richard Milhous Nixon... I set off fireworks and have a hellacious barbeque with as many friends as I can cram into my abode... Voyager II has a busy month: on the 20th (1977), it gets launched without too much difficulty... on the 25th (1981), it flies past Saturn (and what an awesome sight it was)... it is scheduled to fly past Neptune on the 24th of August, 1989, and barring anything unforeseen happening, it should do just that... Lessee, what else? International Left-Handers Day is on the 13th... Woodstock, >THE< music festival, began in New York on the 16th (1969)... Hawaii became a state on the 21st in 1959, and on the 22nd began to have doubts as to continuation of statehood... Pompeii was on the wrong end of a rather large lava flow on the 24th (0079) and the waffle iron was invented 1790 years later (1869)... coincidence? Krakatoa, WEST of Java, was a few days' late (27th, 1883), but more than made up for it, making Etna look like a child's science project... THEN, I hear about the first recorded occurrence of a comet hitting the sun, releasing energy in the neighborhood of one million hydrogen bombs worth of fireworks (what will happen next? I'm afraid I don't want to be around to find out), making Krakatoa look like a flint piker (30th, 1979)... you'll have to go a long way to get me to believe this is coincidence... :) Oh, yeah... mark this one down, anniversary buffs: 27 August 1928 is the date that Kellogg-Briand Pact was signed... You might remember this one as being the international treaty that 60 nations signed, agreeing to outlaw war... Real Soon Now... My, the things you can learn by reading The Humus Report... Boggles the mind... ----- Hanson's Treatment of Time: There are never enough hours in a day, but always too many days before Saturday ============================================================================ THE PURPLE HORSE Christopher Smegley was a stable boy for the Rappaport family. He was a good stable boy. He kept the horses brushed and exercised and watered and fed. He kept the stalls clean. And he always noticed when the oats were running low or a saddle needed repair. But most of all he noticed Betty Rappaport. Whenever Betty Rappaport was near the stable, Christopher would stop what he was doing and watch Betty. He was always helpful and friendly to Betty Rappaport. "Hello, Miss Rappaport," Christopher would say. And Betty would look away without answering. "I brushed your horse today, Miss Rappaport." "Beautiful day today, Miss Rappaport." But seldom did Christopher receive a smile, a nod, or any sign that she knew he had spoken. Christopher Smegley, stable boy, simply did not exist for Betty Rappaport. Christopher knew that he was only temporarily a stable boy, that behind his simple outward appearance stood the real Christopher Smegley: suave, cool, sophisticated, sexy. He knew that if Betty would only notice him, she would recognize all his fine qualities and would fall helplessly in love with him. His only problem was to make her notice him. He knew that he would have to do something unusual, something spectacular, to win the attention and finally the love of Betty Rappaport. He decided to do something so spectacular that Betty could not ignore it and would have to come to him for help. But what could he do? Day after day he worried about this problem. Each day that he watched Betty Rappaport come to the stables he worried more about what to do. Finally he developed a plan: He would paint Betty's horse purple! What a perfect plan, he decided. Of course! That is the answer. He will come to the stable very early on a day that he knows Betty will be coming, and he will paint the horse purple from nose to tail and from hoof to mane. He might even paint the horse's hoofs red. Perhaps he will braid the tail, paint it yellow, weave daisies into it. Then, Christopher thought, he will sit on the fence with great dignity, with utmost confidence, and with just the right degree of cool, and will await the arrival of lovely Miss Betty Rappaport. Betty will arrive, as she always does, looking sweet and pretty as she walks past him on the fence. He will greet her, as he always does, and she will ignore him, of course. Betty will go into the stable to see her horse. She will discover that her beautiful brown horse is now a peculiar passionate-purple horse with red hoofs and a braided yellow tail with daisies. She will scream and she will run to the very same Christopher Smegley whom she has ignored for so long--for, after all, he is the stable boy--and she will cry, "Oh, help! Help! My horse is purple!" Christopher, suave and sophisticated stable boy that he is, will soothe her, he thought. She will be confused and angry, but he will assure her that everything is all right, that all will turn out for the best, and that eventually she will be glad her horse is purple. She will complain that he had no right to tamper with her horse. But Christopher, being at heart a very cool, sexy and suave fellow, will draw upon all his long suppressed powers of coolness, sexiness and suaveness and will soothe her. She will slowly succumb to his charm, but she will still be upset, so Christopher will suggest that they saddle her purple horse while he saddles a plain brown horse, and that they ride together so that she can see how truly wonderful it is to have a purple horse with red hoofs and a yellow braided tail with daisies. She will protest at first, of course, but eventually she will agree to ride with him. Soon they will come to a cluster of trees surrounding a deep pool of spring water where they will stop to drink. Christopher will suggest that they swim. Betty will protest at first, of course, as she won't have a swimming suit. But Christopher will promise to look away until she is in the water and he will be so charming that eventually she will agree to swim. Once in the water, Christopher thought, he will be put to his greatest test. He must remain cool, suave, sophisticated, and the perfect gentleman. He must inspire confidence, trust, and even love. So, maintaining his great cool and his perfect suaveness, he will swim with her. Then he will suggest that they rest together on a blanket under a nearby tree. She will protest at first, of course, but ultimately she will agree, and together they will spread a blanket under the tree. With their arms around one another on the blanket by the tree near the pool of spring water with the brown horse and the purple horse nearby, Betty Rappaport will be utterly overcome and all of Christopher's dream will come true. As Christopher thought about his plan, he knew that it would work. It was a perfect plan. It was so cleverly contrived and would be so masterfully executed that it had to work. How perfectly brilliant of her, he thought, to devise such a plan. Yes, he decided, he would do it. So Christopher bought some thick purple paint, some small cans of red and yellow paint, and some paint brushes. He waited for a day that he knew Betty Rappaport would be coming to the stable. He picked some white and yellow daisies. Then he painted Betty's horse purple with red hoofs and yellow tail, and he braided daisies into the tail. Perfect, he told himself with satisfaction. How absolutely perfect, he kept telling himself as he sat on the fence waiting for Betty Rappaport. He was almost bursting with anticipation as, finally, he saw Betty walking up the winding path toward the stable. "Good morning, Miss Rappaport," he said. Betty ignored him, of course. Christopher was almost beside himself as he watched her enter the stable. She must be approaching the stall now, he thought. His heart raced. He felt lightheaded as he knew Betty must, right now, be standing beside her purple and red and yellow horse. He could hardly contain himself as he knew she must, any moment, come to him for help in what must be the first of a marvelous series of events which will finally culminate in love and even marriage with this lovely girl whom he has worshipped for so long. He heard her scream. "Stable boy! Oh, stable boy!" His heart bounding, Christopher stepped cooly from the fence. "I must maintain my cool," he told himself. "I must remain suave, sophisticated, debonaire, sexy." With total suaveness he waited. So sweet, he thought. So pretty. Helpless. Lovely. "Today she will become mine," he thought as he watched her run toward him. "Stable boy! Stable boy! Oh, Stable boy, my horse is purple!" "I know," he said. "Let's fuck" - Don Marquis - ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- A young city girl was vacationing in the country and became friendly with a farmer boy. One evening as they were strolling across a pasture, they saw a cow and calf rubbing noses in the accepted bovine fashion. "Ah," said the farmer boy, "that sight makes me want to do the same." "Well, go ahead," said the girl, "it's your cow" ============================================================================ When one reviewer gets ahold of a package with preconceived notions, it's likely that almost anything can happen... As is evident in the next piece for your perusal... ----- Everyone has heard of it. A lot of people swear by it. It's used in the office and in the home. It's packaged with Kaypro computers and by next summer may even be included with Cabbage Patch Dolls. Like it or not, Wordstar holds a special place within the software industry. I never used Wordstar until I started this review and, frankly, I was shocked at the program's shortcomings. For a program that has been on the market so long, it is unacceptably lacking. It has always had the reputation of being hard to learn, but this is simply ridiculous. To put it bluntly, as far as I'm concerned: WORDSTAR IS THE WORST SPREADSHEET PROGRAM ON THE MARKET. The program doesn't even look like a spreadsheet. The familiar row numbers and column letters running across the left and top of the screen are not present at all. Rather, the user is presented with one huge column that fills the entire width of the screen. A column's width is adjusted by a pair of commands known as Set Left Margin <^OL> and Set Right Margin <^OR>. The default width of a cell is 80 decimal places, but they can be widened to accommodate numbers as long as 256 decimal places. The program even has a "wrap around" feature that will continue a number onto the next line if it goes beyond 80 characters. Although this is a neat feature, I doubt if many businesses deal with numbers larger than 80 decimals in the first place. Once I accepted the radical appearance of the spreadsheet, I turned to the user manual to learn how to set up a worksheet. This is where is the program REALLY fails. THE MANUAL IS SO BAD THAT MOST SPREADSHEET FUNCTIONS ARE NOT EVEN DISCUSSED! Such common functions as Future Value, Net Present Value, and Cumulative Total are nowhere to be found. In fact, just about the only section in the manual that even remotely relates to spreadsheets is a chapter devoted to decimal tabs. The section shows how to line up rows of numbers underneath each other, but the directions end there. I never did find out how to total the columns. The only strong point of the program is its flexibility to type text into the cells as headings and comments. Indeed, the manual seems to deal almost exclusively with this part of the worksheet building process. In my opinion, Micropro went way overboard in this area. Few other spreadsheet companies allow such nice frills as Boldface <^PB> and Superscript <^PT> headings. But Wordstar will let you even add footnotes! Footnotes in a spreadsheet! Talk about silly frills... You think THAT'S silly frill? By using the "Read File" Block command <^KR>, the program will add row and column titles already stored on disk into new worksheets thereby saving the time it would take to retype them. Micropro even sells an optional add-on module called Spellstar to check the spelling of your header names. Neat ideas but, seriously now, who needs them? After spending a week trying (and failing) to get Wordstar to do even the simplest spreadsheet work, I have given up. All the talk of the program being hard to learn is an understatement; it is nearly impossible since the manuals are useless in their present form. Micropro should have concentrated less on frills and more on spreadsheet basics. I'm sure the program works well once you learn how to use it (after all, it's still selling well), but it all seems too confusing and not worth the trial and error. At this time I cannot recommend Wordstar for serious spreadsheet use. In its current version, it should never have been released [editor's sidebar: Wordstar (Micropro Corporation) and Kaypro (Kaypro Corporation) are both registered trademarks. I'm sure that Cabbage Patch is, also, but I haven't the foggiest who to credit or shriek at, so...] ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Yellow Subroutine "In the town where I was born, Lived a man, who played with 'C'. And he coded his whole life On a stack of Function Keys. So we traced to his data schemes, Til we found a 'C' routine.. And we lived beneath the SAVES, In our yellow Sub-Routine... Chorus: WE ALL live in A YELLOW SUB-ROUTINE, YELLOW SUB-ROUTINE, YELLOW SUB-ROUTINE .... (ETC) When our friends are on the boards, Many MODEMS RETURN NEXT:FOR Then the BAUD RATE goes astray... (B-B-BEEP, BEEP BEEP B-B-BEEP..) Chorus (IF YOU CAN STAND IT!) As we live in Memories Every one of us Returns Linefeeds... CPU and 'C' Routine, In our yellow SUB-Routine... Chorus: (AD INFINITUM, AD NAUSEUM!) ============================================================================ Once upon a time, when I was training to be a mathematician, a group of us bright young students taking number theory discovered the names of the smaller prime numbers. 2: The Odd Prime --- It's the only even prime, therefore is odd. QED 3: The True Prime --- Lewis Carroll: "If I tell you 3 times, it's true" 31: The Arbitrary Prime --- Determined by unanimous unvote. We needed an arbitrary prime in case the prof asked for one, and so had an election. 91 received the most votes (well, it *looks* prime) and 3+4i the next most. However, 31 was the only candidate to receive none at all. Since the composite numbers are formed from primes, their qualities are derived from those primes. So, for instance, the number 6 is "odd but true", while the powers of 2 are all extremely odd numbers ============================================================================ Well, another presidential election year is upon us and I'm not very excited about it. All you have to do is look at the qualifications of the clowns and feebs who are running and you can understand my lack of enthusiasm. We need an exciting candidate, a man who will inspire us and boldly lead us into the 1990s. We need a man with courage and integrity. We need a bold and decisive leader. We need Popeye the Sailor. Consider his qualifications: . 1. He is a veteran. Popeye served honorably in World War II, as did John F Kennedy . 2. He is an entertainer with many films to his credit, like Ronald Reagan . 3. He is a loving family man. His son Swee' Pea is adopted . 4. He is a man of the people like Jimmy Carter . 5. He is a nutritionist and a vegetarian . 6. He is unpretentious. "I yam what I yam" is his motto . 7. Like John Wayne, Popeye believes in a strong America and will not be bullied . 8. He has a distinct speaking voice . 9. He has strong arms .10. Wimpy will make an ideal running mate. We have had wimpy vice-presidents for decades Here is a man of whom nothing bad can be said. Popeye is the living embodiment of all of America`s virtues. Popeye the Sailor is the IDEAL CANDIDATE to boldly lead us into the TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY. SUPPORT POPEYE THE SAILOR FOR PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. America needs Popeye NOW! With your support, Popeye the Sailor can win the 1988 presidential election. Perhaps in January 1989 spinach will replace Ronald Reagan as the national vegetable ============================================================================ The news... such an integral part of our life, and yet we tend to ignore it so blindly... If it weren't for news, we wouldn't be able to bring you such well-written items as these you have before you... Behold... ----- Several Nez Perce County deputies apparently were moonstruck the other morning when they turned in a call that a fire-like glow filled the sky about 15 miles east of Lewiston, near Lapwai. Deputies said the glow came from areas that previously had burned. They reported that the closer they got, the bigger the glow. After a few minutes of silence, a radio dispatcher asked the deputies more about the fire. It was a false alarm, the deputies radioed back. They had seen the moon on the horizon - 02 August 1978 Lewiston Idaho AP - ----- According to Tulsa World Newspaper writer Paul Cleary, a woman fishing Fort Gibson in northern Oklahoma cast her line into the water and, while working out a snarl, placed part of the line between her teeth to hold it in place --- whereupon a fish struck her bait and yanked a set of $700 dentures out of her mouth and into the lake - 05 August 1979 SF Chronicle - ----- Forget Barbie and Ken. Gay Bob has come out of the closet. What's billed as the world's first gay doll stands 13 inches tall, wears one earring, a custom-made flannel cowboy shirt, denim jeans and cowboy boots and costs $15. He sports a blond crewcut and, according to his inventor, Harvey Rosenberg, "looks like a cross between Paul Newman and Robert Redford." A former NYC advertising executive, the 37-year-old Rosenberg developed Gay Bob last September. To date, he has made 10,000 of the dolls, which he has sold through mail-order ads in magazines aimed at the homosexual community. But Gay Bob is beginning to catch on in respectable, Middle American retail stores. "It doesn't matter if you're gay or not," says Rosenberg. "Gay Bob can help you come out of the closet." Gay Bob (who is anatomically "correct") comes packaged in a closet. He also has a wardrobe, clothes catalogue, songbook and book about his life. "Hello, boys and girls," the narrative reads. "Gay people use the expression 'coming out of the closet' to explain the fact that they're no longer ashamed of being gay." Rosenberg says everyone from business executives to construction workers need to come out of the closet, an expression he uses for being honest about what people really want to do with their lives. "Men have to liberate themselves from the traditional sexual roles," said Rosenberg, who says he is not gay. Rosenberg said the traditional male seemed to be the most attracted to the doll. "The more macho, the more taboo, the more exciting homosexuality is," he said, adding that the first thing most purchasers do is take off the clothes of the dolls. "People are fascinated by homosexuality, but they're afraid of it." Rosenberg, president of Gizmo Development, spent $10,000 to develop Gay Bob. He was so pleased with the result that he promptly designed a whole family of "permissive dolls. Each doll comes in his/her own space," Rosenberg said. Straight Steve, for example, comes in a powder-blue leisure suit and sits in the living room in front of the television set. Liberated Libby sits in a bedroom - 05 August 1978 New York City AP - ----- Do you have a difficult time giving up foods you know are bad for you? Take a lesson from the animal kingdom. Hundreds of sheep in California's Antelope Valley owe their lives to tasting bad. That's because the coyotes that had been preying on them have learned to loathe mutton. Dr Stuart R Ellins, an associate professor of psychology at Cal State San Bernadino, felt that coyotes could be turned off sheep if they became ill from eating the animals' meat. Ellins and his students placed sheep carcasses injected with an emetic in sheep grazing areas. A half-hour later, after the coyotes ate the meat, they became nauseated --- and apparently learned to associate nausea with the taste of the meat. And Ellins says they no longer attack the live animals, either. Ellins says that the coyotes learn their lesson after just one experience because of their adaptability. "If the animal gets sick from a particular food and he's lucky enough to survive," he says, "he'll never eat that food again" - 06 August 1978 Family Weekly - ----- A doctor has advice for a bald Soviet engineer: horse manure will not grow hair. Neither will onion and garlic salves or kerosene. According to Dr I Shakhtmeister, who writes an advise column in a Soviet magazine, the 40-year-old engineer's problems began when his hair began to fall out and friends brought out their best home remedies. He rubbed onion and garlic salves into his scalp. He gave himself castor oil scalp treatments. He tried rubbing in mixtures that included both kerosene and horse manure. It all failed, the rest of his hair fell out and contracted a skin disease. In a column headlined "So As To Have Something To Go To The Barber With," Dr Shakhtmeister used this fine example of failure to advise others that although hair loss is common, there is some hope. "At times, a seemingly harmless habit may lead to hair dropping out," he said. For example, he said he treated a 24-year-old student for hair loss and learned it was caused by the fact that the man never wore a hat, even in the coldest weather. Other causes of hair loss, according to Dr Shakhtmeister, include heavy drinking, poor diet, not enough rest, and treatment of the hair with harmful, toxic substances --- particularly those of the manure-kerosene genre - 12 August 1978 Moscow UPI - ----- A man whose Cadillac was stolen from a shopping mall parking lot took out a newspaper advertisement saying the thief can keep the car --- if he returns the pregnant rattlesnake under the seat. Kidd Brewer, a developer, says the 1976 El Dorado convertible is an expensive collector's model. "If whoever took my 1976 red Cadillac convertible with the white top from Crabtree Mall parking lot August 9 will return my pet pregnant rattlesnake Cleopatra from under the seat, they can keep the car," Brewer said in the ad sunday in The News and Observer in Raleigh. Brewer said Monday he was gone from his car only about 15 minutes when he discovered it was stolen. While known for a sense of humor, the 76- year-old Brewer insists he is not joking about Cleopatra, or the impending nest of young rattlers - 15 August 1984 Raleigh North Carolina AP - ----- An agricultural geneticist has come up with a square ear of corn --- to join the square watermelon and the square tomato. Wallace Galinat said he got the idea from an airline stewardess who told him airlines don't serve corn-on-the-cob to passengers because it rolls off the plate. He went to work developing square corn from teosinte, the ancestor of corn. His product is a small ear about the size of a carrot with only four rows of kernels. "The butter stays in there, and spreads over the kernels," said Galinat - 15 August 1979 Waltham Massachusetts Reuters - ---- They had a contest at the Jack Tarr Hotel last night that would have curdled the blood of the Ayatollah Khomeini. In the hotel's California Room, two dozen men paraded up and down a platform in bathing suits, doled out innuendo as well as business cards and generally strutted their stuff before an embarrassingly adoring audience of about 100 women, who paid $7.50 each to gush and titter and cheer at the spectacle. The occasion was the San Francisco Pageant of Men Watchers, Inc, an organization that claims a worldwide membership of 5000 women who value "neat smiles, super suits and great bods." "Mr Mucho Macho is not who we really care about," said president Suzy Mallery, a bubbly 42-year-old redhead, wide of smile and lot of bodice, who founded the group five years ago. Although she said a similar pageant attracted 1200 watchers in San Diego recently, Mallery denied speculation that last night's low turnout might be due to the fact that many of San Francisco's manwatchers also happen to be male. "We tend to get very straight people. This is really for women." The male contestants were divided into two categories: "Fresh and Fabulous" (age 18 to 35), and "Suave and Sophisticated" (35 and up). There were no talent contests, but eight female judges also designated a "Mr Goodlegs". The volunteer contestants included a news producer at KGO radio, a British man seeking a marriage of convenience to stay in the country and a turbaned Indian guru who "likes skiing, swimming and single women." Mallery insisted that men enjoy being sex symbols, but at least one of the contestants indicated he entered "simply to do something crazy." Grand prizes included a year's worth of hairstyling, a two-day Carmel vacation and a photographic modeling course. Runner-up prizes tended to emphasize self-improvement and included a three-month membership at a fitness center, a hairstyling "make-over", a half-day session with an image consultant and dance lessons - 27 August 1979 SF Chronicle - ----- A 33-year-old Puyallup man goofed up his robbery of a Pierce County grocery store about as thoroughly as possible. His first error last night violated one of the basic rules of robbers --- hide your identity. This gunman left his billfold and identification in the store when he fled with the loot. When he discovered that error, he tried to correct it by returning to the scene of his robbery, said Pierce County sheriff's detective John Clark. Just as he discovered the Graham-area grocery store was surrounded by sheriff's deputies, his car's engine died. Carrying money taken at gunpoint from the store's cash register and safe, the robber got lucky. A passing motorist picked him up as a hitchhiker. At another convenience store, the motorist left the engine running when he ran in to make a purchase. The robber took the car, but then ran into a ditch and fled on foot. He attempted to steal another car from a nearby home and kidnap a woman and her teenage daughter. But then the robber let the daughter return to the house to get her purse and as she did that, her mother saw the robber was distracted and she ran away, Clark said. Officers hot on the robber's trail arrived at that point, fired several shots into the car he never had time to steal, recovered the loot and led him to jail in handcuffs - 28 August 1984 Graham Washington Seattle Times - ============================================================================ And, last but not least, a few words of wisdom. It's true that mankind does not live by bread alone, and we've pretty much proved that axiom with these unusual masterpieces. To quote someone much smarter than myself (hi, kalen!): "I am non-denominational --- I accept all forms of currency. So, open your hearts and empty your pockets!" A wonderful sentiment, don't you think? If you should find it in your hearts to like what we are doing here, and would like to help us stay in business AND solvent, please send your non-tax-deductible donations in whatever amount pleases you to: caren park 2557 Fourteenth Avenue West Suite 501 Seattle, Washington 98119 (01 January 1992) We will acknowledge, in print, those with the warmest thoughts for our survival... We leave you now with a few thoughts... ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Happiness (n): An agreeable sensation arising from contemplating the misery of another Happiness is a tight pussy Happiness is excitement that has found a settling-down place, but with a little corner that keeps flapping around Happiness is having friends who laugh at your stories when they're not so funny and sympathize with you in your troubles even when they're not so bad Happiness isn't having everything you want, it's wanting what you have Happiness is seeing your boss's picture on the back of a milk carton Happiness is when your neighbor takes 1600 slides of his European vacation --- with his lens cap on ...until next month...