sanemagazine: wonderful rubbish

Once, there was a plague of locusts. This plague was notable because it happened to keep bringing friends along, friends who were frighteningly locust-like, who, for some reason, weren't altogether desireable.
Day in, day out, a bunch of locusts (as they're called when one or more locusts gathers in a sentence, and you want desperately to talk about them all together) hung out around the towne, causing no end of old people muttering about "stupid locusts, loitering about, never can get a seat on the bus these days, damn kids, grumble, mutter, stupid sidewalk," and generally being the non-productive nuisance locusts tend to be when they're in towne, and out of their natural habitat (the suburbs, generally fifteen metres from the telephone and firmly planted on a sofa or some other couch-like house decoration, where they lead moderately active lifestyles, and tend to get quite a bit done, if only because there really isn't anyone to say whether or not they're doing a good job of it, and the general assumption favours productivity over non-productivity, which is probably a corollary of the Golden Rule that goes something along the lines of "All maxims and studies you undertake will someday also be applied to you, so make the assumptions you make in your studies as favourable as you possibly can, considering you're out doing surveys all the time.").
The locusts weren't particularly good at fixing computer problems, nor were they terribly efficient at setting up networks. They just sort of sat there, swarmed about once in a while, and did a good deal of shopping. One of them had a terrific talent for burping, but, other than that, they all had the same skill base. Which, while making them excellent candidates for running some sort of Windows-based network, didn't bode well for anyone around them. There was also the small problem of them destroying crops, which, though it was limited to groceries and fruit stands and the number of farmers in the city was fairly low, caused a good deal of people a good deal of anxiety and grief.
They were largely a result of the bank's cashpoint machines not being year 2000 compliant.

So the moral of the story is, eat your vegetables, or, if you'd rather not, hire a bunch of locusts in to ravage the grocery shoppes. Another moral could be that you really should have paid attention when you were discussing crop rotation in school.

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			Joke III
	archives horoscopes contacts fables home		Once, there was a plague of locusts. This plague was notable because it happened to keep bringing friends along, friends who were frighteningly locust-like, who, for some reason, weren't altogether desireable. Day in, day out, a bunch of locusts (as they're called when one or more locusts gathers in a sentence, and you want desperately to talk about them all together) hung out around the towne, causing no end of old people muttering about "stupid locusts, loitering about, never can get a seat on the bus these days, damn kids, grumble, mutter, stupid sidewalk," and generally being the non-productive nuisance locusts tend to be when they're in towne, and out of their natural habitat (the suburbs, generally fifteen metres from the telephone and firmly planted on a sofa or some other couch-like house decoration, where they lead moderately active lifestyles, and tend to get quite a bit done, if only because there really isn't anyone to say whether or not they're doing a good job of it, and the general assumption favours productivity over non-productivity, which is probably a corollary of the Golden Rule that goes something along the lines of "All maxims and studies you undertake will someday also be applied to you, so make the assumptions you make in your studies as favourable as you possibly can, considering you're out doing surveys all the time."). The locusts weren't particularly good at fixing computer problems, nor were they terribly efficient at setting up networks. They just sort of sat there, swarmed about once in a while, and did a good deal of shopping. One of them had a terrific talent for burping, but, other than that, they all had the same skill base. Which, while making them excellent candidates for running some sort of Windows-based network, didn't bode well for anyone around them. There was also the small problem of them destroying crops, which, though it was limited to groceries and fruit stands and the number of farmers in the city was fairly low, caused a good deal of people a good deal of anxiety and grief. They were largely a result of the bank's cashpoint machines not being year 2000 compliant. So the moral of the story is, eat your vegetables, or, if you'd rather not, hire a bunch of locusts in to ravage the grocery shoppes. Another moral could be that you really should have paid attention when you were discussing crop rotation in school. disclaimer: Here's your chance to vote on our new look! Just click a button below and feel extremely satisfied that you've clicked not just one, but two buttons! The new sanemagazine look is: Smashing. Smashing. Not so good.

Joke III