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To: E'Lane who wrote (80)10/6/1999 3:31:00 PM
From: William Brotherson
   of 2590
 
{{{E'}}}

I remember the first cruise "D" and I took. Seven days on a ship and it was almost 2 weeks after getting home that I quit walking slanted and sideways...

There is a limit to the amount of stories per day that can be posted, one per minute so that there is time for others to contribute as well!!

Don't exceed that and you will be fine, otherwise????????


wb (with a mistE'vious grin)

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To: William Brotherson who wrote (82)10/6/1999 9:54:00 PM
From: E'Lane
   of 2590
 
Hiya {{{Bill}}

Laz sent this to me and I thought it deserved posting here. So, here with a "twin effort" from the "twins" is something for your reading pleasure!
----------------

This guy captures the experience very well!!! He writes for Sports Illustrated.

On a Wing and a Prayer, by Rick Reilly

Now this message for America's most famous athletes: Someday you may be invited to fly in the backseat of one of your country's most powerful fighter jets. Many of you already have -- John Elway, John Stockton, Tiger
Woods to name a few. If you get this opportunity, let me urge you, with the greatest sincerity.... Move to Guam. Change your name. Fake your own death. Whatever you do, do not go. I know. The U.S. Navy invited me to try it. I was thrilled. I was pumped. I was toast!

I should've known when they told me my pilot would be Chip (Biff) King of Fighter Squadron 213 at Naval Air Station Oceana in Virginia Beach. Whatever you're thinking a Top Gun named Chip (Biff) King looks like, triple it. He's about six-foot, tan, ice-blue eyes, wavy surfer hair,
finger-crippling handshake -- the kind of man who wrestles dyspeptic alligators in his leisure time. If you see this man, run the other way. Fast. Biff King was born to fly. His father, Jack King, was for years the voice of NASA missions. ("T-minus 15 seconds and counting...."Remember?) Chip would charge neighborhood kids a quarter each to hear his dad. Jack would wake up from naps surrounded by nine-year-olds waiting for him to say, "We have a liftoff."

Biff was to fly me in an F-14D Tomcat, a ridiculously powerful $6 million weapon with nearly as much thrust as weight, not unlike Colin Montgomerie.

I was worried about getting airsick, so the night before the flight I asked Biff if there was something I should eat the next morning. "Bananas," he said. "For the potassium?" I asked. "No," Biff said, "because they taste about the same coming up as they do going down."

The next morning, out on the tarmac, I had on my flight suit with my name sewn over the left breast. (No call sign -- like Crash or Sticky or Leadfoot -- but, still, very cool.) I carried my helmet in the crook of my arm, as Biff had instructed.

If ever in my life I had a chance to nail Nicole Kidman, that was it.

A fighter pilot named Psycho gave me a safety briefing and then fastened me into my ejection seat, which, when employed, would "egress" me out of the plane at such a velocity that I would be immediately knocked unconscious. Just as I was thinking about aborting the flight, the canopy
closed over me, and Biff gave the ground crew a thumbs-up. In minutes we were firing nose up at 600 mph. We leveled out and then canopy-rolled over another F-14. Those 20 minutes were the rush of my life.

Unfortunately, the ride lasted 80. It was like being on the roller coaster at Six Flags Over Hell. Only without rails. We did barrel rolls, sap rolls, loops, yanks and banks. We dived, rose and dived again, sometimes with a vertical velocity of 10,000 feet per minute. We chased
another F-14, and it chased us. We broke the speed of sound. Sea was sky and sky was sea. Flying at 200 feet we did 90-degree turns at 550 mph, creating a G-force of 6.5, which is to say I felt as if 6.5 times my body weight was smashing against me, thereby approximating life as Mrs. Colin Montgomerie.

And I egressed the bananas. I egressed the pizza from the night before. And the lunch before that. I egressed a box of Milk Duds from the sixth grade. I made Linda Blair look polite. Because of the G's, I was egressing stuff that did not even want to be egressed. I went through not one
airsick bag, but two. Biff said I passed out. Twice.

I was coated in sweat. At one point, as we were coming in upside down in a banked curve on a mock bombing target and the G's were flattening me like a tortilla and I was in and out of consciousness, I realized I was the first person in history to throw down.
I used to know cool. Cool was Elway throwing a touchdown pass, or Norman making a five-iron bite. But now I really know cool. Cool is guys like Biff, men with cast-iron stomachs and Freon nerves. I wouldn't go up there
again for Derek Jeter's black book, but I'm glad Biff does every day, and for less a year than a rookie reliever makes in a home stand.

A week later, when the spins finally stopped, Biff called. He said he and the fighters had the perfect call sign for me. Said he'd send it on a patch for my flight suit. What is it? I asked. "Two Bags."

Don't you dare tell Nicole.

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To: E'Lane who wrote (83)10/6/1999 11:05:00 PM
From: Jack Colton
   of 2590
 
That's great. My sides hurt even more now....

Dilbert Newsletter 26.0
------------------------

To: Dogbert's New Ruling Class (DNRC)
From: Scott Adams (scottadams@aol.com)
Date: October 1999



Highlights:
------------------------------------------------
- Crackpot Theory
- True Tales of Induhviduals
- Dilbert TV Show Premiere - New Night
------------------------------------------------

Here's a short newsletter mostly to tell you of the revised night
of the Dilbert TV season premiere in the U.S.

DNRC Status
-----------

As you know, after Dogbert conquers the planet, the people who
subscribe to the Dilbert Newsletter will become Dogbert's New
Ruling Class. Those who are not in the DNRC (the Induhviduals)
will be our domestic servants. When that day comes, DNRC members
can pick their own professions. I plan to become a crackpot.

Crackpot is an excellent job because the expectations are so low.
No one ever tells crackpots that they should be doing more.

My particular field of crackpot expertise will be physics. I think
it will be easy to blend in with the real physicists. In physics,
lots of accepted theories make no sense and no one seems to care.
Luckily I have unkempt hair and I wear glasses. Add those
qualities to my complete lack of social skills and I'm practically
a scientist already.

Did you know that if you got in a rocket ship and raced a beam of
light, the light would always be faster than you by exactly the
speed of light, no matter how fast you went? It sounds like a
crackpot idea but it's Einstein's theory. Most scientists agree
that Einstein is right even though it makes no sense.

Einstein also figured out that time is slower for things that move
fast. In my ongoing quest to win the Nobel Prize without doing
anything hard, I have developed a crackpot theory for why
fast-moving things have slower time.

Crackpot theory:

Imagine an object moving between two points. The normal view is
that the object occupies each and every position on its path until
it reaches its destination. But the number of possible positions
between any two points is infinite. Does it make sense that an
object could occupy infinite positions in space in a finite period
of time?

Let's say no, or else my crackpot theory falls apart.

Under my crackpot theory, objects actually disappear and then
reappear along their path. They only seem to move because it
happens so quickly. Slow objects pop into existence slightly ahead
of their last position. Fast objects pop into existence far ahead
of where they were last; that's what makes them seem fast. So for
any given distance, the fast-moving objects pop into existence
fewer times along the path, like a long-legged runner who needs
fewer strides.

A fast-traveling clock, for example, would have less time in
existence to tick. If you could see it whizzing past you, it would
appear slow.

Obviously all of this popping in and out of existence would have to
be happening so fast we can't notice or measure it.

It might seem impossible that objects pop in and out of existence.
But physicists know that's exactly what happens in the super-tiny
quantum world. Matter jumps in and out of existence continually.
Although large objects don't play by the same rules as the quantum
world, the squirrelliness of the tiny world makes you question what
you really know about anything.

As with most of my theories, this one doesn't hold up to close
scrutiny, but it's surprisingly resilient to casual criticism.
Take your best shot. I won't be able to respond to all your e-mail
telling me why my theory is wrong, but I'll read them all.


Pranks On Induhviduals
----------------------

Here's the best DNRC prank ever.

Report:

A co-worker of mine has SETI@home running on his computer. This is
software, distributed by SETI (Search for Extra-Terrestrial
Intelligence), that will run on PCs as a screen saver and analyze
chunks of data from a radio telescope looking for non-naturally
occurring signals from outer space. The other day I copied the SETI
analysis screen to Microsoft Paint and then edited it to contain a
large alert message stating that ET signals had been discovered. I
also drew in a button that he could use to "Notify SETI
Immediately." I left this image on his screen with a "red alert"
sound running in the background.

When he returned to his desk he was ecstatic to see that he had
found ET life. He called another co-worker over to witness the
historic moment. Then he clicked the button and discovered what I'd
done.

He's now looking for an opportunity to slay me so this may be my
last message to you.



MORE SPORTS FOR INDUHVIDUALS
-----------------------------

This report from a DNRC operative describes another ideal sport for
Induhviduals.

Report:

...I am glad to report there is a sport called Mexican Poker. This
sport takes place in an arena where Induhviduals sit around a card
table pretending to play poker while an angry bull charges the
table, knocking them around and goring them! The last Induhvidual
left sitting wins about $200.

End Report

Editor's note: I had not heard of this sport before but it has
great potential. I hope plans are already underway to form a Pee
Wee league.



True Tales From Corporate Life
------------------------------

A co-worker got up during a meeting and announced, "We haven't
gotten very far collecting data, but since we had this presentation
today, we made some assumptions, borrowed some information from
another study, applied a cost for power that we know is wrong, and
calculated costs anyway. None of the numbers are right but this
will show you how it would work if we had real numbers, kind of..."


After explaining that she was going to spend the next half hour
talking about what they would do if they had "real" data she
slipped the bombshell in, "If these assumptions somehow proved to
be correct then the cost of power production losses would be about
$200 million... but until we have real numbers we won't really
know."

We sat in stunned silence while she asked if there were any
questions...



True Tales Of Induhviduals At Large
-----------------------------------

Induhviduals continue to amuse us. Here are the latest reports
from DNRC operatives:

Sighting
----------

I was at a store this morning. I overheard two employees talking.
One woman said, "Hey, what's Dave's last name?"

The other said, "Dave who?"


Sighting
----------

I eat at a restaurant that has an ice cream sundae bar where
customers can add their own toppings. Today I found TONGS in all
three vats of syrup toppings. Upon complaining to my server, I
found out her boss set up the bar that day because an employee was
out sick.

Editor's note: Later the boss swept out the kitchen using only a
sharp knife.


Sighting
----------

I went to the bagel shop and asked, "Can I have 3 bagels in 2 bags
please?" The "clerk" said, "How many do you want in each bag?"

Editor's note: The correct answer to get a free bagel would have
been 2.


Sighting
----------

A cashier at the store was on the phone talking with someone who
apparently asked her to spell something. The cashier said, "That's
'B' as in...", looking around for an item that started with a 'B',
she noticed her own name tag bearing the name BRENDA and continued,
" 'B' as in BRENDA."

Waiting a moment for the person to write it down she continued on
"That would be 'D' as in..." looking around again, she finished
with "'D' as in bren-DA."


Sighting
----------

I was helping my Dad with a construction job when he decided we
would need a truck to move all of the dirt and rocks we had dug out
of the foundations. A rather brilliant construction worker came up
with the idea that we should just, "Dig a hole and bury it."


Sighting
----------

Our city dump charges $15 per cubic yard. I took my old sofa to
the dump. The Induhvidual in the little shack said, "That'll be
$70." I protested that my little sofa wasn't nearly large enough
to cost $70. He said, "Yeah, but the truck could hold much more."


There were charging me to throw away air.

After berating him and the next three levels of management I took
the sofa home, sawed it into small pieces, put it out by the curb
and had them take it away for free.

Editor's note: A new technology has been developed to eliminate
exactly the problem described in that sighting. It's call eBay.


Sighting
----------

I told my dry cleaner that I would like the overnight service and
asked how much more it would cost. She informed me that it was the
same price as the four-day service. I just needed the "Express
Bag."

She pulled out the Express Bag form, filled it out, attached it to
the bag and handed it to me. She put my outfit on a rack behind
her.

I asked her if the outfit didn't need to go into the bag. She
said, "No, I will just put a note on it."

I walked out with my empty "Express Bag" and the form filled out in
its entirety. I left behind the outfit to be cleaned. The outfit
was cleaned as requested. I still have no idea what I am supposed
to do with this bag.


Sighting
----------

One time when I was little, my dad was doing the laundry and he
noticed that the basket in the washing machine wasn't spinning. He
called the repairman to fix the machine. The repairman charged my
dad $35 to let him know that the basket will not move if the lid is
open.

DNRC Golden Child Found
-----------------------

I'm not sure why the DNRC needs a Golden Child, but if we ever do,
this report suggests we have found one.

Report:

We were in our car when my 2 1/2 year-old daughter requested that I
play a song from a CD. Once it was finished she wanted to hear it
again. I told her no, but she insisted. I asked her if she knew
who the boss was. She replied, "I am the boss!" I corrected her
by saying, "No, I am the boss." She answered by saying, "No, I am
the boss. You are Dilbert."

Needless to say, I gave up at that point and played the song again.



Dogbert Answers My Mail
-----------------------

In this section, Dogbert answers my mail. These are based on real
e-mail to me.

Dear Dogbert,

A friend of mine interviewed for an engineering job and was asked,
"If you could be any animal in the world, what would you choose and
why?" He answered, "A German Shepherd because they are
mild-mannered and loyal animals." He didn't get the job.

What is the right answer to this question?

Name Withheld


Dear Name Withheld,

The correct answer is "I would like to be a jackass who asks people
what kind of animal they would be. It seems like easy work."

Sincerely,

Dogbert


Dear Mr. Adams,

Our son, Jason, has earned his Eagle rank in the Boy Scouts of
America. I'm sure he would really appreciate a brief e-mail from
you congratulating him on his success. We'd appreciate anything
you might be able to say.

Jason's Dad


Dear Jason,

By now you probably figured out that the Boy Scouts is a dangerous
cult. Your parents are part of the conspiracy. When your training
is complete you will be picked up by an alien vessel and
transported to a planet where fires can only be started by boys in
green pants rubbing sticks together. Your only hope of staying on
this planet is to use your knot-making skills to tie yourself to a
large rock.

Oh, and congratulations.

Sincerely,


Dogbert


Dilbert TV Show
---------------

In the last newsletter I gave you the wrong season premiere date
for the U.S. showing of the Dilbert TV show.

The correct season premiere night for the Dilbert TV show is
November 2nd at 8 PM Eastern, 7 pm Central. It's moved to Tuesday
nights, still on UPN. Mark your calendar now.

If you missed some of the episodes last season you'll see a few of
them in that time slot before November 2nd.


Dilbert Fodder
---------------

What's bugging you about your job? Let me know and you might see
it in a Dilbert comic, TV show or Newsletter. The best comic
fodder involves workplace peeves, devious strategies, frustrations
of dealing with others, conflicting objectives, unintended
management consequences, and of course my favorite - idiot bosses.
And I love True Tales of Induhviduals.

And if you're seeing any new management trends that need to be
mocked, I can help. Send your suggestions to me at
scottadams@aol.com. Short ones are better.


Dilbert Products

- Celebrate Halloween with Dilbert

The perfect Halloween disguises are now in the Dilbert Store: The
Dilbert mask and candy tin -
umstore.com
and the Pointy-Haired Boss wig -
umstore.com

Treat yourself to character-shaped Accomplish-Mints(TM),
Improve-Mints(TM), Manage-Mints(TM) and Perform-Mints(TM), packaged in
collectible tins.
umstore.com

Complete your party with the Dilbert party pack:
umstore.com


*** Special DNRC-only Offer!***

Complete your DNRC wardrobe: with any purchase of $50 or more in
the Dilbert Store through 10/13/1999, get a FREE DNRC polo shirt!
(Regular store freebies will be added if the order amount qualifies
for them.)

This DNRC offer will not be announced in the Dilbert Store. To get
it, you need to follow this DNRC-only link:

umstore.com



How to Subscribe to the Dilbert Newsletter
------------------------------------------

You can sign up for the free Dilbert Newsletter
automatically. Send a blank e-mail to
dilbert-text-on@list.unitedmedia.com.


Unsubscribing
-------------

To unsubscribe automatically, send a blank e-mail to
dilbert-off@list.unitedmedia.com.



Problems Signing up for the Newsletter
---------------------------------------

If the automatic method doesn't work for you, simply
send a message to newsletter@unitedmedia.com specifying your e-mail
(or snail mail) address and you will be added manually. This
method is much slower than the automatic method so please be
patient.


Scott Adams
scottadams@aol.com

Please do not reply to dilbertnewsletter@unitedmedia.com

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To: Jack Colton who wrote (84)10/7/1999 9:05:00 AM
From: William Brotherson
   of 2590
 
Good Morning Everyone,

Alright,, you two!!! Most excellent stories that brought back some very good memories!! I have gone up with a Bronco pilot back in Vietnam, stunts exactly as discribed just not at those speeds, stomach actually went queasy again thinking about it....Love it!!!!!!!!

Todays story is for you dog lovers again, enjoy!!


Todays Story:


OF DOGS AND ANGELS

During my years in animal welfare work - I served as
the president of the American Society for the Prevention of
Cruelty to Animals - I have heard wonderful stories about
the power of the human-animal bond. One of my favorites is
about a girl and her very special dog.
When the girl was born, her parents were stationed with
the U.S. Army overseas. The tiny baby spiked a fever of 106
degrees and when they couldn't help her at the military
base, the baby and her family were flown home to the United
States where she could receive the proper medical care.
The alarming fever kept recurring, but the baby
survived. When the episode was over, the child was left
with 13 different seizure causes, including epilepsy. She
had what was called Multiple Seizure Syndrome and had
several seizures every day. Sometimes she stopped
breathing.
As a result, the little girl could never be left alone.
She grew to be a teenager and if her mother had to go out,
her father or brothers had to accompany her everywhere,
including to the bathroom, which was awkward for everyone
involved. But the risk of leaving her alone was too great
and so, for lack of a better solution, things went on in
this way for years.
The girl and her family lived near a town where there
was a penitentiary for women. One of the programs there was
a dog-training program. The inmates were taught how to
train dogs to 1) foster a sense of competence and 2) as a
job skill for the time when they left the prison. Although
most of the women had serious criminal backgrounds, many
made excellent dog trainers and often trained service dogs
for the handicapped while serving their time.
The girl's mother read about this program and contacted
the penitentiary to see if there was anything they could do
for her daughter. They had no idea how to train a dog to
help a person in the girl's condition, but her family
decided that a companion animal would be good for the girl,
as she had limited social opportunities and they felt she
would enjoy a dog's company.
The girl chose a random-bred dog named Queenie and,
together with the women at the prison, trained her to be an
obedient pet.
But Queenie had other plans. She became a "seizure-
alert" dog, letting the girl know when a seizure was coming
on, so that the girl could be ready for it.
I heard about Queenie's amazing abilities and went to
visit the girl's family and meet Queenie. At one point
during my visit, Queenie became agitated and took the girl's
wrist in her mouth and started pulling her towards the
living room couch. Her mother said, "Go on now. Listen to
what Queenie's telling you."
The girl went to the couch, curled up in a fetal
position, facing the back of the couch and within moments
started to seize. The dog jumped on the couch and wedged
herself between the back of the couch and the front of the
girl's body, placing her ear in front of the girl's mouth.
Her family was used to this performance, but I watched in
open-mouthed astonishment as the girl finished seizing and
Queenie relaxed with her on the couch, wagging her tail and
looking for all the world like an ordinary dog, playing with
her mistress.
Then the girl and her dog went to the girl's bedroom as
her parents and I went to the kitchen for coffee. A little
while later, Queenie came barreling down the hallway,
barking. She did a U-turn in the kitchen and then went
racing back to the girl's room.
"She's having a seizure," the mother told me. The
girl's father got up, in what seemed to me a casual manner
for someone whose daughter often stopped breathing, and
walked back to the bedroom after Queenie.
My concern must have been evident on my face because
the girl's mother smiled and said, "I know what you're
thinking, but you see, that's not the bark Queenie uses when
my daughter stops breathing."
I shook my head in amazement. Queenie, the self-taught
angel, proved to me once again how utterly foolish it is to
suppose that animals don't think or can't communicate.

Roger Caras


Have a great day all !!


wb

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To: William Brotherson who wrote (85)10/8/1999 8:59:00 AM
From: William Brotherson
   of 2590
 
Good Morning Everyone,

In my zest to be fair to all, I felt compelled to post a, (shiver), Cat story!! Being a dog person (18 at the moment) I do have to admit, a cat like this would be alright to have as a friend..........


Todays Story:


DOUBLE DUTY

As a member of a "dog family," I had long been
conditioned to believe that cats simply didn't possess the
ability or desire to be loving companions. This belief was
so deeply ingrained that, while I didn't actually dislike
cats, I found them, for the most part, uninteresting.
Arriving home from work one afternoon, I discovered a
cat at my doorstep. I ignored him, but apparently he was not
offended, because he was there again the following day.
"I'll pet you," I told him, "but there's no way you're
coming in."
Then one night soon after, as the rain beat down and
thunder clapped, I heard a faint meow. I couldn't take it
anymore; I became a cat owner.
My new roommate, now named Shotzy, quickly became more
than just a stray cat to feed. I liked the way his soft
purring greeted me every morning and the way he nudged his
head against my leg when I came home each day. His playful
antics made me laugh, and soon Shotzy seemed more like a
longtime friend than a pet I hadn't really wanted.
Although I suspected Shotzy had been an outdoor cat for a
good portion of his life, he seemed perfectly content to
stay inside, except for one remarkable exception. As if an
alarm had gone off, at about 6 o'clock every night he'd cry
to go out. Then, almost exactly one hour later, he'd be
back. He did this for several months before I finally
discovered what he had been up to.
One day a neighbor who knew about Shotzy showing up at
my doorstep told me she thought the cat might belong to an
elderly woman who lived down the street. Worried that I had
mistakenly adopted someone's pet, I took Shotzy to the
woman's house the next day.
When a white-haired woman opened the door, Shotzy
bolted from my arms, ran into the house and made himself at
home in a big recliner. The woman just threw her head back
and laughed, saying, "Jimmy always did love his chair."
My heart sank - my Shotzy was obviously her Jimmy.
I explained I had taken him in and only discovered the
day before that he may have already had a home. Again, the
old woman chuckled. She invited me in and explained that the
cat did not belong to her.
"But, I thought you called him Jimmy," I questioned.
The woman, who said her name was Mary, explained that
Jimmy was her husband's name. He had died about a year
before, just a few months after being diagnosed with cancer.
Before Jimmy died, he and Mary would eat dinner at 5
o'clock every night. Afterward, they would retire to the
living room, Jimmy to his favorite chair, to talk about the
day's events. The couple had followed that routine every
night for the 60 years they were married. After Jimmy's
death, with no other family nearby, Mary said she just felt
lost. And more than anything, she missed their nightly
after-dinner talks.
Then one night a stray cat meowed demandingly at her
screen door. When she cracked open the door to shoo him
away, he ran straight to Jimmy's chair and made himself
comfortable, as if he had lived there forever.
Mary, who had never had a pet in her life, found
herself smiling at the animal. She gave him a little milk
and then he cuddled on her lap. She talked to him about her
life, but mostly about Jimmy. At about 7 o'clock, at which
time she normally turned on the TV and made herself some hot
tea, the creature slipped off her lap and went to the door.
At 6 o'clock the next evening, the cat was back. Soon,
Shotzy and Mary had their own routine.
"Now, I believe in the Good Lord," Mary told me. "I
don't know about all that reincarnation stuff, but sometimes
it feels just like I'm talking to Jimmy when that little cat
is here. I know that sounds strange, and I guess it doesn't
really matter; what's important is that the cat is a real
comfort to me. But it's interesting to think on, all the
same."
So Mary and I continued to share Shotzy. At my house,
he revealed to me the many daily joys that come with living
with a cat. At Mary's, his presence served to fill the six
o'clock hour with happy companionship.
Our marvelous cat seemed to have an uncanny knack for
always being in the right place at the right time.

Lisa Hurt


Have a great day and weekend !


wb

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To: William Brotherson who wrote (86)10/8/1999 11:03:00 AM
From: E'Lane
   of 2590
 
{{{Bill}}}

Good Morning!

Well...that story hits home. I've laid in bed recouperating from numerous "experiences", bored of reading, bored of my own company...when my Noelle (yes the "killer cat") would show up and plop down wedged against my side. Now, not being a cat person, you probably don't realize that when a cat plops down like that, you DO NOT ignore it and you DO NOT move till they "allow it"! LOL...Noelle is a notorious attention hog! One can never claim lonely with a cat around.

I do think they are totally tuned into their owners. I can not have seen her all day, but let me sit back and "sigh" at something and she shows up to "pester" me outta my "sigh"! There were times I thought she was like a gaurdian angel or something, but then she'd yak on the carpet and I'd change that opinion! <ggg>

Anyway...I'm yammering. (so what else is new, huh???)

Loved the story. Uh... you don't REALLY have 18 dogs do you? That is too great. (Dogs are my favorite too, truth be known, but they aren't allowed in the house. So saith the hubby!!)

Hey...have a great day!

E!

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To: E'Lane who wrote (87)10/8/1999 11:16:00 AM
From: William Brotherson
   of 2590
 
{{{E'}}},

Yeah, for hubby!!! So saith wb!!!!!!

And yes, we actually have 18 but we are selling them as fast as we can. The numbers dwindle every day but we have never had less than 6 or 8, ever and probably never will!!

Anyone in the market for a Sheltie???


wb

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To: William Brotherson who wrote (88)10/8/1999 11:23:00 AM
From: E'Lane
   of 2590
 
Anyone in the market for a Sheltie???

Do you deliver?? <gg>

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To: Jack Colton who wrote (84)10/8/1999 7:20:00 PM
From: E'Lane
   of 2590
 
DAVE BARRY'S LIST OF
25 THINGS YOU WILL LEARN IN 50 YEARS OF LIVING

1. The badness of a movie is directly proportional to the number of helicopters in it.

2. You will never find anybody who can give you a clear and compelling reason why we observe Daylight Saving Time.

3. People who feel the need to tell you that they have an excellent sense of humor are telling you that they have no sense of humor.

4. The most valuable function performed by the federal government is entertainment. (I?d say Clinton did a good job at this!)

5. You should never say anything to a woman that even remotely suggests you think she?s pregnant unless you can see an actual baby emerging from her at that moment.

6. A penny saved is worthless.

7. They can hold all the peace talks they want, but there will never be peace in the Middle East. Billions of years from now, when Earth is hurtling toward the Sun and there is nothing left alive on the planet except a few microorganisms, the microorganisms living in the Middle East will be bitter enemies.(!!!)

8. The most powerful force in the universe is: gossip.

9. The one thing that unites all human beings, regardless of age, gender, religion, economic status, or ethnic background, is the fact that, deep down inside, we all believe we are above-average drivers.

10. There comes a time when you should stop expecting other people to make a big deal about your birthday. That time is: age 11.

11. There is a very fine line between "hobby" and "mental illness".

12. People who want to share their religious views with you almost never want you to share yours with them.

13. There apparently exists, somewhere in L.A., a computer that generates concepts for television sitcoms. When TV executives need a new concept, they turn on this computer. Sorting through millions of possible plot premises, it spits out "THREE QUIRKY BUT ATTRACTIVE YOUNG PEOPLE LIVING IN AN APARTMENT," and the executives turn this concept into a show. The next time they need an idea, the computer spits out "SIX QUIRKY BUT ATTRACTIVE YOUNG PEOPLE LIVING IN AN APARTMENT." Then, next time it spits out "FOUR QUIRKY BUT ATTRACTIVE YOUNG PEOPLE LIVING IN AN APARTMENT." And so on. We need to locate that computer and destroy it with hammers.

14. Nobody is normal.

15. At least once per year, some group of scientists will become very excited and announce that: The universe is even bigger than they thought! There are even more subatomic particles than they thought! Whatever they announced last year about global warming is wrong.

16. If you had to identify, in one word, the reason why the human race has not and never will achieve its full potential, that word would be: "meetings."

17. The main accomplishment of almost all organized protests is to annoy people not in them.

18. The value of advertising is that it tells you the exact opposite of what the ad actually thinks. For example, If the advertisement says "This is not your father's Oldsmobile," the advertiser is desperately concerned that this Oldsmobile, like all other Oldsmobiles, appeals to old coots like your father.
If Coke and Pepsi spend billions of dollars to convince you that there are significant differences between these two products, both companies realize that Pepsi and Coke are virtually identical.
If an advertisement shows a group of cool, attractive youngsters getting excited and high-fiving each other because the refrigerator contains Sunny Delight, the advertiser knows that any real youngster who reacted in this way to this beverage would be considered by his peers to be the world's biggest dip...and so on.
On those rare occasions when advertising dares to poke fun at the product, as in the classic Volkswagen Beetle campaign, it's because the advertiser actually thinks the product is pretty good.
If a politician ever ran for president under a slogan such as Harlan Frubert: Basically, He Wants Attention," I would quit my job to work for his campaign.

19. If God, who created the entire universe with all of its glories, decides to deliver a message to humanity, He will not use, as His messenger, a person on cable TV with a bad hairstyle.

20. You should not confuse your career with your life.

21. A person who is nice to you, but rude to the waiter, is not a nice person.

22. No matter what happens, somebody will find a way to take it too seriously.

23. When trouble arises and things look bad, there is always one individual who perceives a solution and is willing to take command. Very often, that individual is crazy.

24. Your friends love you anyway.

25. Nobody cares if you can't dance well. Just get up and dance.

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To: E'Lane who wrote (90)10/9/1999 2:49:00 PM
From: E'Lane
   of 2590
 


We are responsible for the effort, not the outcome.


There was an old man, a boy and a donkey.
They were going to town and it was decided that
the boy should ride.
As they went along they passed some people
who thought
that it was a shame for the boy to ride and
the old man to walk.
The man and boy decided that maybe the
critics were right, so they changed positions. Later,
they passed
some more people who thought that it was a
real shame for that man to make such a small boy walk.
The two decided
that maybe they both should walk.
Soon they passed some more people who
thought that it was stupid to walk when they had a
donkey to ride.
The man and the boy decided maybe the
critics were
right, so they decided that they both should ride.
They soon passed other people who thought
that it was a shame to put such a load on a poor
little animal.
The old man and the boy decided that maybe
the critics were right so they decided to carry the
donkey. As they crossed a bridge they lost their
grip on the animal and it fell into the river and
drowned.

The moral of the story is...if you try to
please everyone, you will eventually lose your ass.

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