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Real Men/Women of Genius #60

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  • The Troubadour
    [Today, friends, I m the non-angel barely bearing no gnus of grated joi. Nah, actually it s HUGE NEWS of GREAT JOY!!! As follows: 1) My good buddy Bill Thom
    Message 1 of 1 , Jul 30, 2010
      [Today, friends, I'm the non-angel barely bearing no gnus of grated joi.
      Nah, actually it's HUGE NEWS of GREAT JOY!!! As follows:
      1) My good buddy Bill Thom is giving me space (soon! maybe today!!) on his
      wonderful website: http://www.runrace.net/
      2) For any or all those who've written over the past mini daze to ask where
      all the old RM/WoGs are? There ya go! (Well, mostly. There's still more
      to, like, unearth, dust off, and post up; but you'll at least get the gist.)
      3) The idea for this edition today comes from Eric Vaughan. Thanks, man!
      And THANKS to Bill and everybunny (and body) else who have helped to make
      this, like, one of the very "wurst" of our usual BJF offerings by or about
      "brats" ;-]

      Bud Light presents...


      {Re-al men of geeeeeene-yuss}

      Today we salute you, Mr. Quad-Quint-Obsquattamatillionth Unassisted Barefoot
      Badwater Crisscrossing Stud.

      {Mis-ter yoooooou have gotttttt to be kiiiiiiiid-ding meeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!}

      You, sir, aren't all that likely to enjoy sitting and doing your life's work
      inside some air-conditioned office cubicle, now are you.

      {Butttttttttttttttttt the com-paaaaa-ny has a gym and a showwwww-wer!}

      No. And for the record, let's see if we understand "the record." In order
      for you to carve out your niche in the crypt under the eternal flame of
      human "infame," you need to triple-, quad-, quint-, or duodecimally run,
      walk, or crawl across the scorching desert floor of Death Valley,
      California, from Badwater to Mount Whitney, during the heat of
      summer--without so much as a spare canteen, decent sunblock, helpers,
      bicycle, ambulance, or... SHOES?

      {Weeeeeee wonnnnn-der what the ruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuules are?}

      This is, what, The Return of Mahatmas Gandhi? You are leading the
      non-violent (although plenty bruised) revolution all over again against the
      British Empire? Is this a social protest movement-of-one (slowly)? Or, is
      this your very own curious way of washing your mind clear of all the other
      catastrophic failures in your life?

      {"I haaaaaave a dreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeam toooooo-day!!"}

      Ah, we get it now. You want to re-learn again what the Neanderthal long ago
      gave up on: "trying to redefine what is humanly possible."

      {Thissssssssssssssssssss IS where fi-re wassssssss innn-ven-ted!!!}

      So crack an ice-cold Bud Light next year when you're done, Oh Great
      Siddhartha of the Sand Dunes, because really, by the time you've finally
      reached your Nirvana of Clear Conscience, both your tombstone--and you--will
      be cinders.

      {Mis-ter Quad-Quint-Obs-squat-ta-ma-till-ionth UN-ass-sis-ted Bare-foot
      Bad-water Crissssssssss-crossssing Stud!}

      Bud Light beer: we don't care where they brew it; we just dig their

      ( O_O )

      Yours troubly,

      Rich Limacher
      (very soon searchable at http://www.runrace.net/)

      Yankee Folly of the Day:
      Next we want to see who can do a double or triple crossing of Badwater in
      record time on their hands, without gloves!
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