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Real Men/Women of Genius #64

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  • The Troubadour
    [No, friends, for right now we re going to resist writing about the apparent genuine or artificial genius who figured out how to beat the cyber-system and
    Message 1 of 1 , Sep 10, 2010
      [No, friends, for right now we're going to resist writing about the apparent
      genuine or artificial "genius" who figured out how to beat the cyber-system
      and register for Umstead early. That one's too obvious. Today's
      contribution to the betterment of humankind is, uh, fictional?]

      Ingelhook Wineries present...


      {Re-al gals of geeeeeene-yuss}

      Today we raise our glass to you, Miss Expecting of Racing Exceptions Always
      To Be Made Just For You.


      It's a 100-mile footrace and you're scared of the dark. It's all on roads
      but you're petrified of mud. It's in the South and you're from Detroit. So
      what's a body to do? You telephone the race director and demand that
      exceptions be made.

      {"Caaaaaaaaaaaaaaan't you maaaaaaake the sun set laaaa-ter?"}

      "Why won't you let me start the race early?" you ask. "You need to block
      off *two* lanes of highway," you say. "That way I won't be forced into the
      ditch where there's mud." And this: "Couldn't you just move the whole race
      to Michigan?"

      {"Maaaaaaay-bee I could jusssssss' run your race HEEEEEEERE?"}

      You need a muling pacer to accompany you for the *entire* race? Sure, no
      problem. You're a lactose-intolerant diabetic vegan with ulcers, kidney
      stones, gall stones, rolling stones, and colitis? You have "special needs"
      which we'll need to be changing all menu items at all of the aid stations
      for? Why didn't you say so? Why certainly! We will be more than happy to
      completely rearrange our entire chromosomal balance in order for your gifted
      genetics and uniquely endowed special heredity to be satisfied.

      {Willlllllllll yoooou be doh-naaaaa-ting your boddd-y to sciiiiiiiiii-ence?}

      Puh-lease. Maybe bowling would be less traumatic. No? How about sex? The
      balls are lighter and you won't have to change your shoes.

      {Yooooooou prob-babb-bly have spe-cial sexxxxxx-u-al needs toooo!!}

      So go ahead and yank your cork quickly out of that "special dry" White
      Zinfandel that your servants have fetched for you, O Marie Antoinette, and
      let the rest of the indistinguishable masses of hoi-polloi eat cake.
      Because at this race, and every other race where there's more than just your
      highness involved, you still expect all of those peeps to kowtow to only
      yourself, The Queen of Tarts.

      {Missss Exxx-pec-tiiiing of Raaa-cing Exxx-ceppppp-tions All-ways To Beeee
      Made Just-For-Yoooou!}

      White Zinfandel yuppie wine: we don't drink it ourselves; we'd rather
      guzzle beer.

      ( O_O )

      Yours troubly,

      Rich Limacher
      (now on tab at http://www.runrace.net/)

      Yankee Folly of the Day:
      Don't laugh. I have a Jewish mother-in-law.
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