thank you, ruby diamond for today’s word: perspicacious
i have heard it said, usually by the academically challenged, that it’s just as good to be “street smart” as it is to be “book smart”. what a load of twaddle. obviously, most people on the planet poccess brains the size of a small waterbiscuit (as in “your brain’s so minute, baldrick, that if a hungry cannibal cracked your head open, there wouldn’t be enough to cover a small water biscuit” for all you black adder fans out there) so the concept of having any kind of mental capacity is well beyond them.
we, on the other hand (i include you three who are reading at this very moment) fall into an entirely different category. we are able to engage our grey matter and use it to to enhance our lives. how dull life would be if we didn’t have the ability to sit about and wax lyrical about the shortcomings of others. how frustrating it must be to be unable to use big words to befuddle the peasants. how boring is must be to be incompetent at making elaborate excuses and reasonable arguments not to do any real work.
my understanding of the world goes far beyond the “get up, do an honest days work, put food on the table, go to bed” kind of attitude that pervades most people’s life. yes, it’s a little unfair that i have more resources at my disposal but i’ve worked very hard for them. at least an hour a week thinking about my next project. some might even say that we talented diva type people are a bit of a waste of space. i laugh in their general direction. my days are filled with thinking about the world and how to make it a better place. granted, i do not actually do anything to achieve world peace or end poverty, but it’s the thought that counts.
to prove that i am extremely perspicacious (and proud of it) here’s a very perceptive and highly amusing account of the world:
Why did the chicken cross the road?
The problem we have here is that this chicken won’t realize that he must first deal with the problem on ‘THIS’ side of the road before it goes after the problem on the ‘OTHER SIDE’ of the road. What we need to do is help him realize how stupid he’s acting by not taking on his ‘CURRENT’ problems before adding ‘NEW’ problems.
Well, I understand that the chicken is having problems, which is why he wants to cross this road so bad. So instead of having the chicken learn from his mistakes and take falls, which is a part of life, I’m going to give this chicken a car so that he can just drive across the road and not live his life like the rest of the chickens.
GEORGE W. BUSH:
We don’t really care why the chicken crossed the road. We just want to know if the chicken is on our side of the road, or not. The chicken is either against us, or for us. There is no middle ground here.
Now to the left of the screen, you can clearly see the satellite image of the chicken crossing the road…
ANDERSON COOPER :
We have reason to believe there is a chicken, but we have not yet been allowed to have access to the other side of the road.
Although I voted to let the chicken cross the road, I am now against it! It was the wrong road to cross, and I was misled about the chicken’s intentions. I am not for it now, and will remain against it.
That chicken crossed the road because he’s GUILTY! You can see it in his eyes and the way he walks.
To steal the job of a decent, hardworking American.
No one called me to warn me which way that chicken was going. I had a standing order at the Farmer’s Market to sell my eggs when the price dropped to a certain level. No little bird gave me any insider information.
Did the chicken cross the road? Did he cross it with a toad? Yes, the chicken crossed the road, but why it crossed I’ve not been told.
To die in the rain. Alone.
Because the chicken was gay! Can’t you people see the plain truth?’ That’s why they call it the ‘other side.’ Yes, my friends, that chicken is gay. And if you eat that chicken, you will become gay too. I say we boycott all chickens until we sort out this abomination that the liberal media white washes with seemingly harmless phrases like ‘the other side. That chicken should not be crossing the road. It’s as plain and as simple as that.
In my day we didn’t ask why the chicken crossed the road. Somebody told us the chicken crossed the road, and that was good enough.
Isn’t that interesting? In a few moments, we will be listening to the chicken tell, for the first time, the heart warming story of how it experienced a serious case of molting, and went on to accomplish its life long dream of crossing the road.
Imagine all the chickens in the world crossing roads together, in peace.
It is the nature of chickens to cross the road.
I have just released eChicken2007, which will not only cross roads, but will lay eggs, file your important documents, and balance your check book. Internet Explorer is an integral part of eChicken. This new platform is much more stable and will never cra…#@&&^(C% ……. reboot.
Did the chicken really cross the road, or did the road move beneath the chicken?
I did not cross the road with THAT chicken. What is your definition of chicken?
I invented the chicken!
Did I miss one?
DICK CHENEY :
Where’s my gun?
Why are all the chickens white? We need some black chickens
Because the chicken is free to cross the road if he wishes. It is not up the federal government to tell the chicken where to go or make him show a National ID Card when he gets there.
I deny that my son hurt that chicken. The fact that he now has no head proves nothing. But then the chicken said that he wouldn’t vote for me so I shot him.
Because George Bush hates chickens!
Over 40 billion chickens die in the United States every second. Their combined mass is slowly causing our planet to rotate closer to the Sun….and Republicanism. Occasionally, one of them crosses the road, escaping from the clear Fate of serving on a plate. A plate that scoops up the best of our young chickens, dropping them into a fiery cauldron of death. Everyone agrees that the only ones profiting from these deaths are large corporations, yet no one does anything about it. When your from the wrong side of the road, no one cares. I wanna deep fry Republicans.
And God came down from the Heavens, and He said unto the Chicken, “Thou shalt cross the road!” And the chicken crossed the road, and there was much rejoicing.
You saw it cross the road with your own eyes. How many more chickens have to cross the road before you believe it?
RICHARD M. NIXON:
The chicken did not cross the road. I repeat, the chicken did NOT cross the road.
Why does anyone cross a road? I mean, why doesn’t anyone ever think to ask, “What the heck was this chicken doing walking around all over the place, anyway?”
The fact that you are at all concerned that the chicken crossed the road reveals your underlying sexual insecurity.
The question is not, “Why did the chicken cross the road?” Rather, it is, “Who was crossing the road at the same time, whom we overlooked in our haste to observe the chicken crossing?”
Chickens, over great periods of time, have been naturally selected in such a way that they are now genetically dispositioned to cross roads.
The road, you will see, represents the black man. The chicken ‘crossed’ the black man in order to trample him and keep him down.
MARTIN LUTHER KING,
I envision a world where all chickens will be free to cross roads without having their motives called into question.
The point is that the chicken crossed the road. Who cares why? The end of crossing the road justifies whatever motive there was.
Whether the chicken crossed the road or the road moved beneath the chicken depends upon your frame of reference.
Asking this question denies your own chicken nature.
RALPH WALDO EMERSON:
The chicken did not cross the road; it transcended it.
Because the Bush Administratin obviously left the gate wide open otherwise the chicken wouldn’t have been in the road in the first place. When I am president all chickens will be sure to get a proper education so that they’ll know better than to try to cross a busy road!
The chicken crossed the road because he wanted to do it his way…thankyouverymuch
Go ahead make my day and cross that road!
I swear when the chicken crossed the road to my fantasy Park for a sleep over in my bed that there was no fowl hanky panky play of any kind!
One small step for mankind… one giant leap for the chicken!
to break on through to the other side
break on through…to the ooootheeer siiide
sod the chicken. where’s my coffee?