Middle Income Richard's Third Millennium Almanack, No. 36

Third Millennium Almanack
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A webzine published every now and again
via the Internet, which should, in the coming
thousand years, save a few wads of paper
and spare a whole bunch of trees.
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Number 36, All Hallows' Eve 2007
In the 7th year of the 21st century
© 2007 Rich Limacher
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Happy Halloween,
All You Silly Curious Runners!

Maybe next time you'll run
a little more carefully
around Loch Ness, huh?

This webzine is supposed to scare the bejesus out of ya,
or otherwise give you a chuckle or two

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Please send editorial material, immaterial, ads, subtracts,
and everything else (including praise and adulation) to...

TheTroubadour@sbcglobal.net

And please note also that this is a new e-address as of last spring.

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OK, maybe these bytes might be, but you'll find the real deal by clicking on this:

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Trick or Treat Baby!!!

[And please believe that this kid really isn't deformed due to the mother's drug use, OK?]

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"Feetures" and Horrors in this issue include:

a) Your Treat: A Parade o' Punkins (throughout)
b) Season's Grittings
c) A Coupla Quickies
d) We Love a Smart Blonde
e) Saved By Nazis! (Part 2 - Conclusion)
f)   Here's George
g) State Pledges of Varying Allegiances
h) Juris Prudence
i)   Las Vegas Medicine Show
j) This Just In
k) Yankee Folly of the Day
l)   The Barkley Pumpkin
m) Feedback
n) Must-Click-Links
o) Vertical Cartoon
p) Recommended Website: 13 Hauntings!
q) Department of Bumpered Stuckies
r) Zombie Photography
s) Dirty Joke
t)   Scary Spaceman
u) Scary REAL Woman!
v) "Hot" Dogs
w) "Hot" Alice
x) Don't Try This At Your Keyboard!

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This year we have a very special treat for you:
A Pumpkin Parade!

Here is Numero Uno:

It's like as if the thing is supposed to come from hell itself, but actually its official name is: "Electrocution Pumpkin." This (as well as most every other pumpkin that follows below) is actually also a pretty cool creation of a pretty kewl far-out way-gone guy named Tom Nardone. He's an Internet entrepreneur from the Detroit area who's been featured in print and on television (Regis & Kelly, for example, had him on their show) and you can check his further act out via his website:

http://www.extremepumpkins.com/

Tom apparently does all this pumpkin carving as a hobby (although he has just published his first book on the subject, which you'll note on his website). He also holds annual pumpkin carving contests, so that others can get in on this action (and possibly win some kind of prize). Maybe you should grab a gourd, slice it up, take its pic, and send that in for next year. Ya might win a five dollar coupon good at Farmer John's Michigan Outdoor Farmstand & Lemonade Bar, ya think?

( O_O )

__ __
( Q_Q )

And here, now, is Pumpkin Numero Two:

Recognize her? It's your landlady.

^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^

"May the urchins who come to your door this evening demanding vigorish and protection fees for sparing your meager property be not equipped with AK-47's, as you supply them with hyperactivity fuel in the form of small packaged sugar-laden handouts.

"And ponder this:
if baby pigs are piglets
and baby owls are owlets,
do you really want to dispense that box of chicklets?"

--Richard Macknick,
Illinois wit

A Couple of Quickies

Quickie 1
One day, John came home and was greeted by his wife dressed in a very sexy nightie.
"Tie me up," she purred, "and you can do anything you want!"
So he tied her up and went fishing.

Quickie 2
A woman came home, screeching her car into the driveway, and ran into the house.
She slammed the door and shouted at the top of her lungs, "Honey, pack your bags. I won the lottery!"
The husband said, "What should I pack, beach stuff or mountain stuff?"
"Doesn't matter," she said. "Just get out!"

Quickie 3
Marriage is a relationship in which one person is always right, and the other is a husband.

Quickie 4
A Polish immigrant went to the DMV to apply for a driver's license. First, of course, he had to take an eyesight test. The optician showed him a card with the letters:
C Z W I X
N O S T A C Z
"Can you read this?" the optician asked.
"Read it?" the Polish guy replied, "I know the guy!"

Quickie 5
Mother Superior called all the nuns together and said to them, "I must tell you all something. We have a case of gonorrhea in the convent."
"Thank God," said an elderly nun at the back. "I'm so tired of chardonnay."

Quickie 6
Fifty-six years ago, Herman James, a North Carolina mountain man, was drafted by the Army.

On his first day in basic training, the Army issued him a comb.
That afternoon the Army barber sheared off all his hair.

On his second day, the Army issued Herman a toothbrush.
That afternoon the Army dentist yanked seven of his teeth.

On the third day, the Army issued him a jock strap.
The Army has been looking for Herman for 56 years.

We, Inside This Particular Skull & Bones Fraternity,
Love Smart Blondes:

A blonde walks into a bank in New York City and asks for the loan officer. She says she's going to Europe on business for two weeks and needs to borrow $5,000.

The bank officer says the bank will need some kind of security for the loan, so the blonde hands over the keys to a new Rolls Royce. The car is parked on the street in front of the bank, she has the title, and everything checks out. The bank agrees to accept the car as collateral for the loan.

The bank's president and its officers all enjoy a good laugh at the blonde for using a $250,000 Rolls as collateral against a $5,000 loan. An employee of the bank then proceeds to drive the Rolls into the bank's underground garage and parks it there.

Two weeks later, the blonde returns, repays the $5,000 and the interest, which comes to $15.41. The loan officer says, "Miss, we are very happy to have had your business, and this transaction has worked out very nicely, but we are a little puzzled. While you were away, we checked you out and found that you are a multimillionaire. What puzzles us is, why would you bother to borrow $5,000?"

The blonde replies, "Where else in New York City can I park my car for two weeks for only $15.41 and expect it to be there when I return?"

Okay, it's time for another pumpkin. Here they are, Numbers Three and Four:

Mr. Nardone calls these "Twin Zombie Pumpkins." They're from his 2006 contest and they supposedly illustrate the "brain eating" function of modern zombies. Uh-huh. Yeah, right. Mid Ink Rick, of course, just likes them because they remind him of Don & Gillian. ;-)

( 0_0 )

The Finale To This Yea-Gripping Saga That's Been Keeping You On The Edge Of Your Seat These Last Four Months

[Editor's note: As before, all names have remained changed to protect the guilty.]

All right, you don't remember. That's understandable. "Part 1" was published a long time ago—just shortly before the American Revolution got started. You were then paying allegiance to King George.

In any event, when last you read anything whatsoever written by me, my bride and I had plunked down 500 smackers as an earnest-money-down-payment on some trailer in a trailer park that we had zero intention of ever living in. It was, alas, supposed to be our "get rich quick" real estate investment scheme.

Only three things wrong with that: 1) white trash trailers AIN'T real estate so there ain't likely to be much resale profit, 2) the white nazi trailer park does NOT permit leasing or renting, and 3) that seller was NOT about to give us our money back.

We found this out for sure, after we politely phoned the seller, who said: "SEE MY LAWYER" and slammed down the phone. So we then phoned the lawyer, without speaking to the lawyer, whose secretary told us that, in order to request our escrow's return, we needed to gather some proof and send back a fax.

"Thank you for responding to our telephone call of yesterday. As you’ve instructed, we are faxing our letter from Mrs. Nazi, the trailer park manager, effectively rejecting our purchase plans as explained in our letter to her of May Yadda. Please note that our Trailer Trash Contract with the Jaundiced Estate was in fact signed on Saturday, May Yadda-else, but dated the following Monday since the nazi trailer park office is closed on weekends. Mr. Jaundice, Jr., did not give us a copy of the park’s Rules and Regs, nor was there any mention of the requirement for owner-occupancy. Had we known that, we never would have offered to purchase Mr. Junior Jaundice’s trash trailer because our intention was only to utilize it as an investment property by renting to others. Mrs. Nazi's letter confirms that this use is not allowed. Now since this has rendered our contract null and void according to the terms of agreement with Mr. Junior, please refund our $500.00 earnest money in full. Thank you."

Welllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll, no can do. Throughout the forthcoming fury of phone calls, swear words, and faxes, my bride and I learned quite thoroughly that Mister Jaundice, Junior, through his attorney had no intention of refunding our money.

"It is not our client's obligation," Mr. Buttkiss the Attorney faxed back, "to know what your own personal intentions are when, or before, you make any purchase. Therefore, screw you people."

So we go immediately to work. We consult with some friends, have dinner with professionals, ply info out of my bride's old high school chum who's now a real estate agent himself.

First, there's a problem with the contract itself. It's, like, written on Realtor®-trademarked-and-copyrighted paper. Our friend tells us this, and then we remember: At the very time we first signed the contract and wrote our 500-smacker check (made out to Mr. Buttkiss, by demand) we remember a certain "conference phone call."

What was happening was: Mr. Jaundice was on the phone to his buttugly bride, who WAS a Realtor®, but who was suspiciously NOT acting as such... nor, as it turns out, was she including her Broker in on the deal (because, hey, if you're a Realtor® and using Realtor® printed paperwork, you are automatically cutting your broker-employer in on the deal; this is a sacrosanct condition of your employment!). The wife, over the phone, goes: "I could get in a lot of trouble for this."

And the second thing was: The wording on the contract specified that THIS DEAL is concluded, goin' down, held liable, sacrosanct, carved in stone, indeviolate and under gawd so help you cheezesiss—per Park Management approval within 7 days of the Date of Acceptance as shown on the contract. Guess what. In his haste to screw us, Mr. Junior Jaundice had failed to date his copy of the contract. So, naturally, we did what he'd done... and didn't date ours either.

Whoa! Now... dontcha see... Silas Marner and his minions might NOT be the shysters they'd like to think they are, eh? No date, no "acceptance," no contract!

So badda-bing, badda-bang, I'm back faxing Mr. Buttkiss and stating all these legalese right back at his ass in deadass earnest.

Pretty soon, Mr. Buttkiss faxes back: "No. You stupid trash-trailer buyers, my client is not authorized on his own to return earnest money held in escrow. There are very specific rules regarding escrow, and you haven't followed any. So, again, screw you people."

So... then we remember what Mrs. Jaundice said about how she could get in trouble.

Bingo! I proceed apace to get her right smack into that trouble. I conveniently look her up, check out her Broker's office phone and fax numbers... then conveniently fax a message to her Broker's office fax machine. And, just to be sure Mrs. Jaundice gets the hint, I phone her own Broker's office phone extension number when I figure she's not there, and leave a message.

"Mrs. Jaundice," I whisper sweetly, "you know how you used Realtor® contract forms without bothering to mention your boss? Well, give us back our money, bitch, or we're bringing that contract in to your Broker."

A little this, a little that, maybe another fax and fone or two or three... and meanwhile we're pretty sure the Jaundice household is throwing fits. Maybe a divorce might come of this? We're not sure. We don't care. We want our money back.

So then guess what happens? Mr. Buttkiss transmits another fax. "You insolent horrible people!" he wants to scream, but he can't. This is only on paper, remember? Butt then Mr. Kiss suddenly sez that "his client *might* now be willing to refund the deposit **IF** certain conditions are met." Like: a) we gotta apologize to all Jaundices; b) we must contact Mrs. Jaundice's Broker, using the same method as before, and apologize to him; c) write on the blackboard 500 times: "I will never again be a bad little boy and sass any officials or dignitaries or professionals or anyone else in their practice of juris prudence; and then the kicker d) we also gotta contact Mr. Jaundice's EMPLOYER and APOLOGIZE TO HIM!!!

We never contacted Mr.'s employer in the first place! We don't even know what Mr. Jaundice does for a living (except steal from people), and so we certainly wouldn't know who to call to rat on his ass. (Hmm... good idea though! Maybe we need to Google® the guy after all! :)

So. A little this, a little that, some conversations with friends and chums we know from high school... badda-bing... badda-bang... badda-boom: OK. We'll do it. We'll make promises out the ying-yang. We'll swear, place hands on bibles, promise never to go public, agree not to telephone the media or ask the governor to call in the National Guard... whatever.

Just give us our frickin' bucks back, Mister Buttkiss, and we'll sign anything you want us to sign.

I then write a magnificent apology, as only I can ( 0_0 ), and sign and fax and distribute throughout the known universe. I zap back to Mrs. Jaundice's Broker's office fax machine Le Apologie par Excellance in 72-point type taking 25 sheets of office fax paper to complete, and then I (dunno, fake a Notary's sig?) immediately fax all this evidence of compliance over to "his esquire" Mr. Buttkiss.

In even less time than I estimated snakes take to squirm—zingo! Inside our mailbox is an envelope from Mr. Buttkiss'ss'ss's Office... and inside that... is a check for 500 sizzling smackaroonies.

Zoom. Within 5 minutes of ripping open that envelope, that check is signed in front of a teller at me 'n' me bride's joint account bank.

One thing more, speakin' o' my friends the Nazis: It just so happened in there that—you'll never guess—Mrs. Nazi from the trailer park telephoned me and wondered... um, how thing's were going in my effort to get money out of Mr. Jaundice, Junior, BECAUSE, as it turned out, both she and I were in the same fix. Mr. Jaundice, Jr., hadn't paid his old man's lot rent either! Nor had he complied MIT ZEE RULES UFF ZEE PARK and given 30 days notice that his daddy vus deadt und ze vus NAUGHT renewvingk ziss lot leaze und enstedt vus zelling zee trailer.

Me 'n' Mrs. Nazi had struck up an immediate unholy alliance (an axis?) and she, for her own most generous part, had volunteered her own phalanx of nationalist-socialist schooled attorneys to "help me" if I in turn agreed to "help them."

Zo far, though, no SS officers have knocked on my door or served me with a summons to appear in the matter of (no doubt) Ze Nazionist Sozialist Trailer Park v. The Estate of Mr. Elder Yelo Jaundice.

So I guess I'm helping to save the taxpayers' money at the courthouse... and instead... joinin' y'all in coughing it up for King George to use however he wishes.

"I remember sitting inside the University of Maryland's graduate library, poring over some doubtless required reading in The Golden Bough by Sir James Frazer, and marveling at a peculiar point he was making. He noted that, all things considered, more damage has been done to civilization by stupid or ignorant heads of state than by intentionally tyrannical ones. This was a remarkable observation, and one that I've questioned these three long decades since—until now when I'm watching what a U.S. president can do."

Our Leader, Rod R. Blagojevich

Chicago South Suburbian Mid Ink Rick discovered that (who knew?) individual states of the USA have their own "Pledge of Allegiance"

[ya gotta check THIS "Blag" out]

http://feeds.feedburner.com/chicagotribune/changeofsubject

[this Chicago Tribune "blog" dude (Rich Miller) put the word out and asked for readers to suggest, now, the most appropriate Pledge of Allegiance for the State of Illinois. Dig some submitted examples:]

I pledge allegiance to the flag
Of the insufferable State of Illinois,
And to the Combine that runs the show.
One state, under indictment,
With patronage and pay-to-play for all!

I pledge allegiance to the flag
Of the great State of Illinois,
Cuz some guy sent me,
To work this ward,
For some guy I don’t know,
So I might, someday, get a job.

I pledge allegiance to the Illinois flag,
And to the politicians that top dollar can buy.
To the corruption for which it stands,
One cesspool
In the heartland
With favors and payouts for the few.

I pledge allegiance to the flagwaver of Illinois—
Rod R. Blagojevich, Governor—
And TO the stanchion, Rod R. Blagojevich, Governor,
On which it stands.
One cache, overfunded and indivisible,
With libertines, just iced, and Rod R. Blagojevich, Governor for all!

[That's only a few, folks, in honor of a state that—in Mid Ink's lifetime alone—has seen two governors go to prison, one more now waits to go to prison, a secretary of state died with shoeboxes in his closet stuffed full of cash, the county that Chicago lies in [sic] had its board of supervisors taken over by the son of the previous board president whom nobody has even seen for several years, the Chicago Transit Authority is broke and about to shut down, and not one promised thin dime from the statewide lottery has ever been delivered to public education. Mid was a public school teacher, and Mid's bride is still a public school teacher and both are waiting to see yet another governor totally blow the state's teaching retirement fund.

Maybe your state is worse? Would YOU like to contribute a Pledge of Allegiance to yours—in time for the next edition of Middle Income Richard's? Well, if so, thanks!]

[These are excerpted from actual trial transcripts. Trust us! :]

ATTORNEY: Do you know if your daughter has ever been involved in voodoo?

ATTORNEY: Now doctor, isn't it true that when a person dies in his sleep, he doesn't know about it until the next morning?

Ooh, hoodoo dat voodoo
dat yoodoo so well...

How 'bout a real full-blooded Chippewa Indian Medicineman and his sidekick Sandy (born in Chicago), aka "Princess" Silverstar, the "Clairvoyant, Clairaudient and Clairsentience"?

Check this out:

http://www.thestrongbear.com/index.html

(Heard just dis moanin' on The Johnny B. Radio Show, WLUP-FM, Chicago)

Apparently, for a fee, they can heal your miserable lameass life over the phone... from Las Vegas.

Gosh, Mid Ink's auras and charkas are shimmying already.

And... hasn't Mid Ink's lameass rhetoric been looking for a clairsentience for at least a good percentage of the past sad millennia?

Well, okay, here's your next pumpkin:

Mid Ink Rick calls this one: Grand Cleft Under the Low Seas, or, Gimme Gimme Gimme Gimme Gimme... More.

THIS JUST IN:

9/11, for example:

Who actually benefitted?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=puWqNJI8Mjo

And, on balance, have a look at this:

http://switch3.castup.net/cunet/gm.asp?ai=214&ar=1050wmv&ak=nul

That is one impressive woman, delivering a powerful and amazing statement on Arab TV. The woman is Wafa Sultan, an Arab-American psychologist now in Los Angeles.

@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@

"When the gun shoots, you got to go."

                                      --Ato Boldon,
                                         world-class sprinter,
                                         former 200-meter World Champion
                                         and 4-time Olympic medal winner
                                         from Trinidad and Tobago

@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@

Now HERE's the one we've been looking for:

:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(

Yankee Folly of the Day:
--------------------------

:( Mid Ink Rick in costume ):

:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(:-(

OK, time for the next one. This one's unofficial name is...

The Barkley Pumpkin

Why it's unofficially called that should be patently obvious "to those who know." To those who don't, take Mid Ink's word for it: You DON'T want to know!

Everytime's Repeated Media Message:
----------------------------------------------------

It's no secret that one of America's most inventive founding fathers, Benjamin Franklin, got his first real "break" in the media by not pandering to the tastes of those old stodgy publishers of his time, but by coming up with something completely different all on his own. He published a simple one-page annual periodical called "Poor Richard's Almanack" and sold it along the streets and rivers of the colonies for a penny apiece. And it thrived as a business for the next twenty-five years. So now, some two-hundred seventy-odd years later, you get "Middle Income Richard's Third Millennium Almanack" soon to be selling along the buy-ways and Java-streams of the Internet for a buck a copy, especially now that it's been miraculously, and successfully, installed on a website. And for that Mid Inc Rick owes a huge debt of gratitude to D.C. Lundell and Gillian Robinson, owners and founders of ZombieRunner.com.

So far, for the past umpteen issues, this e-rag's been free. But before the next umpteen are published, however, this particular freedom of yours might somehow be taken away, and you'll be asked to cough up as many as twelve U.S. dollars, via credit card or otherwise, to that nutty parent company called C. C. Writers, at P.O. Box 963, Matteson, IL 60443 USA.

In the meantime, however, please don't take all this technological wizardry for granted. You have our permission and supplications to continue sending in your cards, letters, ads, "subtracts," encouragements, detractions, and good ol' coin o' the realm in the form of U$A one-dollar bills to the above-mentioned post office box; and you're also invited to thoroughly search through everything offered by MIR's hosts, the Zombies, on their truly awesome website. And finally, of course, Uncle Ben Franklin's weird and most strangely distant cousin M.I. Richard thanks you very much.

* * * * *

Oh, and keep thinking "green" to help save our environment by promoting paperless publishing!!!

And, hey, It's OK. Go ahead and forward this link to a friend!

Metaphors be with you.

--Midde Inque's Highe Schule English Squire,
about 900 years prior to Star Wars

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There was a CC Writer named Rich
Whose Florida stay had one fateful glitch.
He was half chewed by a gator
And swore in the hospital later,
"I thought I could outrun that son of a bitch!"

George Stapleton
Park Forest, IL
via e-mail

[Editor's note: Middle Income Richard was absent for nearly a month—which further put production of this webzine behind—traveling on business to the "grate state" of Florida. Apparently that inspired our good friend George, who penned this limerick and was kind enough to allow its publication. Many thanks, George; and, hey, if anyone else throughout the known universe would like to transmit a comment, question, or complaint, please... we invite you sincerely to do so. Thanks!]

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____________________________________________________________________________________

Here's another pumpkin in today's parade:

It's alive! It's being preserved in the laboratory of some mad scientist! And It WILL Be Unleashed On The World In The Future!!! Kinda like "The Attack Of The Killer Tomatoes" or "The Egg Plant That Ate Chicago," eh?

@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~

Vertical Cartoon

:-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-)

( ô-ô )

OK, here is the final pumpkin in today's parade...
(and FOR SURE! it is Mid Ink Rick's completely most favorite ;)

Yeow! How could we go wrong? Here, then, are THE 13 Most Haunted Places in the USA:

Lizzie Borden's home is in there (which is now, natch, a Bed & Breakfast). Also some joint in San Diego and even a spook place in Florida. Imagine: even the alligators are scared.

We wonder if Lizzie's Bed & Breakfast will cut you a deal, even if you don't ax first.

From the Department of Bumper Sticklers:

Zowza! Check out THIS particular masterstroke of fine arts photography, will ya?

This image was captured by the camera of no less an artist than Don Charles Lundell himself (one-half of the ZombieRunners) simply by standing outdoors on the balcony of his Palo Alto, California, condo one night... and aiming west. Wow!

###########################################

AND HERE NOW IS PROBABLY THE BEST DIRTY JOKE OF THE SEASON:

The Nun gets into the cab and notices that the VERY handsome cab driver won't stop staring.

He replies: "I have a question to ask you, sister, but I don't want to offend ."

The Nun responds: "My son, you cannot offend me. When you're as old as I am and have been a nun as long as I have, you get a chance to see and hear just about everything. I'm sure that there's nothing you could say or ask that I would find offensive."

"Well," the driver says, "I've always had this fantasy of having a nun kiss me."

The Nun responds: "Well, let's see what we can do about that. Number one: you have to be single. And number two: you must be Catholic."

The Nun then fulfills his fantasy with a kiss that would make a hooker blush.

"Forgive me, sister, but I have sinned. I lied and I must confess: I'm married and I'm Jewish."

The Nun says, "That's OK. My name is Kevin and I'm going to a Halloween party."

Here now is yet another "costume" by Mid Ink Rick:

(Yup! He's a total space cadet, eh? Tethered to some solar panel needing repair on the International Space Station, ya think?)

"If you think that was scary, you should see it in context."

--Jon Stewart

###########################################

Which reminds us... here's a "costume" that really isn't a costume at all. This is the real person:

_ _
QQ
-

WHAT?

Yes, that is correct. This lovely young woman has recently been declared by no less an authority than The Guinness Book of World Records to be THE most-pierced woman on the planet.

(Her name is Elaine Davidson, a former Brazilian nurse who now lives in Glasgow, Scotland—of all places, eh? She reportedly has 192 piercings on—in?—her face alone, and over a thousand all over her body. Yeow! Well, happy Halloween, Elaine! You've just succeeded in scaring the dog crap out of probably a billion of us. :-(

And speaking of which...

...how's this for "hot" dogs?

"Begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end; then stop."
--Lewis Carroll, from Alice in Wonderland

And speaking of Wonderland...

Isn't this about THE best runner's costume ever created, huh? Don't ya think??

(So, Alice, whose costume did you think we were talking about, hmm?)

Photo/audio-visual credits for this issue (top to bottom): 1) MPEG video file freely distributed via the Internet under title, SellingToyotasInScotland, but found to be featured on this website: http://www.steelcitysfinest.com/FlashIndex.htm, under the title of Bait; obviously an advertisement for Toyota Vios automobiles; 2) baby with false teeth freely distributed via the Internet (by an unknown source); 3) this and all carved pumpkin photos from http://www.extremepumpkins.com/; 4) Rich Limacher in costume as "Lincoln B. Hayes III" of TV's The Mod Squad at JJ100-2004 (Michele Harmon photo); 5) Paris Hilton and The Hulk statue on 5-29-03 on private property for an MTV or Universal Studios party (photo on AOL entertainment website(s); from Wire Image at http://www.wireimage.com/Gallerylisting.asp?navtyp=gls====28418&nbc1=1&c4nvi=3&styp=clbi&str=3307); 6) moon over Palo Alto (Don Charles Lundell photography, referenced per www.ZombieRunner.com); 7) tethered astronaut structure at Kennedy Space Center Visitor's Complex, Merritt Island, FL (Rich Limacher photo); 8) Elaine Davidson (unknown photo) referenced through the Guinness website, http://www.guinnessworldrecords.com/records/human_body/extreme_bodies/most_pierced_woman.aspx; 9) two dachshunds in "buns" (photo apparently on www.Watchersweb.com); 10) footrace running scene (photo apparently by www.nude-in-public.com); 11) Zlata the contortionist (photo per www.zlata.de).

"The secret to creativity is knowing how to hide your sources." --Albert Einstein

This sweetie here is hiding the source for these typing feet. [It's herself. They're her feet, somehow swung impossibly over her shoulders.] Mid Inc Rick would like to hire her as a secretary. We're guessing she wouldn't be interested. She's Zlata, the German contortionist. Check her out at: www.zlata.de
Then, if you're really curious, watch this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jQmnTHNTsik&mode=related&search=

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[Middle Income Richard's will return
at some as yet unimaginable, non-specific, and
similarly improbable opportunity in the future]