FOLIO OLIO: MONDAY #3564

One Of My Very Own

EMAIL: ralph.henry.at.folio.olio@gmail.com

THE WONDER OF LANGUAGE

The original product review.
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RH: Think Two Girls, One Cup.
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Kind of rings true doesn't it.
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Of course, Dr. Dawkins in my hero.

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"...type of "glue" in the binding."
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My kind of humor.
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Hilarious Tourism Canada Q & A

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Researcher: The data are wrong so I sent Jenkins to the lab to review the calculation-process-thingy.

Assistant: Algorithm.

R: No you stay here and help me.

ABOUT YOUR HOST

Since I was 19 years old I have had a convertible. I love them. In my opinion, topless makes driving fun again.
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I really like finding something that reminds me of an event in my life. I once waited until a rather famous band leader to finish a trumpet solo on the front lip of the stage to hand him a note that basically said the same thing as the above. It wasn't. But he checked nonetheless.
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I once toured Monticello and saw the hole he had cut all the way through his house to accommodate the extra long grandfather clock weights.
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It terrifies me the way people just accept whatever their parents teach them as fact.

And that goes for being a Nazi or a Baptist.
As if your parents were infallible.
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Speaking of heaven and such, those same people will believe the most illogical bullshit imaginable.
To wit:

I'm a gambler and as such, I look at the odds that a single magical god gives a fuck about you and me.
Then when you add in the thousands of now-debunked gods and the odds that you were lucky enough to be "chosen" by the one true god is astronomical.

Then you have to think of the rules written into the Christian faith; one of which is that it is you duty to convert the whole fucking world, by any means necessary.

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I thrive in an environment with objects the likes of which I have never seen before.

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I would go ape-shit if I had stumbled across this management station in a restaurant.

Did you notice the stove eye on the floor, complete with a blue flame?
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Women simply can't be understood rationally.
Let's just consider their obsession with making beds. The only reason most women do that is in case another woman comes visiting.

Their mothers taught them that an unmade bed is the sign of a sloppy homemaker. And they never even thought to ask why. Of course, you know, deep down, that it simply doesn't matter that the sheets and covers are aligned just like everyone else's. Yet it would ruin women's days to leave the bed unkempt.

All this weirdness because their mother told them what their grandmother told her because, well, grandma really wasn't all that intelligent and had nothing else to do.

And don't get me started on these elaborate measures to meet unrealistic standards of beauty.

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Somehow I did that when I was a teenager and stumbled upon Ralph Burger an art director. After that, I would watch for his name every time.
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Here are some thoughts I've jotted down recently:

This part of me that I am giving away is for you all to share.

I reserve the right to have crappy ideas sometimes.

I had another writer read one of my novels. He said I use too much dialogue. I told him that it was a murder mystery and anything that the writer reveals about what the character is thinking must be true. But if he speaks those same thoughts, then they could be lying or they could be telling the truth.

Living in a university town is wonderfully filled with energy.

I once explained to you, Gentle Reader, that my blog is like the wife and I sitting in a doctor's office and I see something in a magazine that I think worthy of showing to her. I try very hard to select blog fodder with the same criteria.
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Me (internally): Please say bedridden, please say bedridden...

Dr: You look great! See you again for a check up next year.

Me: sigh

PEOPLE MORE FAMOUS THAN I

It's a tough job but somebody has to do it.
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We don't see this guy near enough.
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I don't think so. With all the steroids, his dick is probably about the size of a roll of dimes.
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This is some English lady after seeing Thor's package...

I like to picture people like the queen wiping their ass after taking a shit in the morning and right when she thinks she is finished, another little turd slips out and she smears it all over her ass. And after sputtering out an obscenity she has to start all over again.

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Yeah, he's stoned.
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Bless his heart.
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This 8 year old kid at McDonald's just ordered coffee. I hate to think the hell of the day he is having.

SHIT YOU DON'T SEE EVERY DAMN DAY

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Mother of the year.

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????
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Sex Robot Brothel In Italy Shut Down By Cops Less Than Two Weeks After It Opened

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The gif of this was too large to load, but it showed this machine plowing down the field spewing out these dirt turds. What to guess what is going on?