tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-348037772008-03-10T19:33:59.308-04:00kurtnoreply@blogger.comBlogger9125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34803777.post-17555227301038901582020-01-01T01:00:00.000-05:002007-09-22T12:01:53.617-04:00

Despondent at the state of the world, I beseeched God for answers but got nothing.  Since I kept hearing how "God is in the White House" nowadays, I made a pilgrimage to Washington, D.C.  The trip began well, on a Peter Pan Express bus playing a bleeped-out TV movie version of Al Pacino in Scarface (you know, I've always thought Michelle what's-her-name is extremely attractive, even when she

kurtnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34803777.post-50681440676137064922006-01-01T14:13:00.000-05:002007-11-19T19:36:46.950-05:00

Dear Oracle: We let a drifter do some yard work and sleep in the metal shed out back for a few nights – and now we can't get rid of him!  If we give him money, he spends it all on alcohol, and the nicer we are to him the worse he gets. We're so desperate we even considered paying a trucker to pick up the shed one night when he's asleep, and drop it off in Nevada. What should we do? - Matt and

kurtnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34803777.post-42837959656339879682006-01-01T13:18:00.000-05:002007-11-30T06:22:05.306-05:00

Dear Oracle: I'm afraid my PC has turned into one of those "zombie computers" I read about.  It's always up to something, beeping and grinding and popping up "windows" all over the screen with weird alphabets and the filthiest pictures you can imagine. I'd turn it off, but I'm afraid it will blow up!  How can I rescue my computer from the clutches of the zombie world? - Lois Ling, Snakepocket

kurtnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34803777.post-26352323330832986922006-01-01T01:00:00.014-05:002007-07-15T15:38:46.665-04:00

Dear Oracle: Tensions between the West and the Muslim world remain high.  (If you wanted more oil, why not just ask?  We have so much here it's a nuisance, bubbling up on tennis courts and in the servants' quarters, dirtying the maids' uniforms.  I am so happy Halliburton is moving to the UAE – as faithful viziers to the Bush and Cheney clans, I am sure they have experience with such problems.)

kurtnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34803777.post-42144495803673887832006-01-01T01:00:00.013-05:002007-06-15T11:58:55.474-04:00

Dear Orakle: I done worked my whole retchful life, nigh a hunnert 10 years, and cain't read nuthin' but the mule kicks on 'shine (X X).  So my 8 year old Teddy3 reads your writin' to me (y'all near blinded the boy lookin' up words in The Dictionary!) and he's writin' this here letter. Any-hoot, I has to ask: how in tarnation did'juh come to Orakulate so good? - Hiram McGizzle, Heathens Holler

kurtnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34803777.post-30819921724868403992006-01-01T01:00:00.007-05:002007-06-22T06:00:51.475-04:00

Dear Oracle: I keep hearing how "sun dried tomatoes" is a high class thing to eat, so I bought some.  They were not only as chewy as shoe leather, but they smelled like day old socks smothered in catsup.  What's up with that smell? - Bernard Fonzerelli, Anti-Missile Missile Guidance Software Engineer Level II, Orlando, Florida Dear Bernard: "What's up" is that dried tomatoes must be stomped

kurtnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34803777.post-44957657694734257102006-01-01T01:00:00.005-05:002007-05-22T16:52:38.453-04:00

Dear Oracle: What should I do when an insolent stranger with a cellphone talks at me and acts like I'm not there?  I want to kill them, but understand that is "taboo" here in America, even if the insolent stranger deserves it! That is too bad, because I was president of the Women's Martial Arts Federation of Iran before I came to the USA and opened Farzy's Shaolin Kung Fu Academy here in

kurtnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34803777.post-12174949995813585552006-01-01T01:00:00.003-05:002007-05-22T16:51:45.506-04:00

Dear Oracle: My dear young wife Fatima and I had our hearts broken when our little dog Fester (like Lester, but with an F) died.  We break down crying every time we see his hairs stuck to the sofa or look in his bedroom, where he "lies in state" in a beer cooler full of ice with his stumpy little legs shot up in the air. I was a sportswriter for a local paper until my legs went stiff (from

kurtnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34803777.post-42221786902672962772006-01-01T01:00:00.000-05:002007-05-22T16:59:30.104-04:00

Dear Oracle: Me and my frat bro's think Condi Rice is HOT!  I hear she went to Stanford, so I bet my bro's a keg of Bud Light she made Playboy's "Girls of the Pac 10" way back when. Then my bro' Dwayne says she looks a little like George Bush (and both of them look like the "What, Me Worry?" guy), so he bet us a keg of Coors they're related. Then my bro' Washington bet us a keg of Olde

kurtnoreply@blogger.com