h a l f b a k e r yIf ever there was a time we needed a bowlologist, it's now.
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“You see way back then before the discovery of kitchen tools, opening the stubborn cap or lid of a newly purchased bottle or jar entailed denting the top edge with a knife, spilling out precious kettle water or sending a runner after the circus strongman. Some bright lass came upon using the rotational
momentum stored in the recently discovered wheel.”
“She glued the obstinate container’s lid/cap end to the wheel hub (thereof the name ‘hubcap’) and proceeded to drive at high speeds through the village streets (in reverse if a wheel on the right was used). Meeting the customary road-crossing chicken, she would panic brake (traffic candles and crosswalks (came with the first crucifixion) having yet to be imagined) with all her might.”
“The tenacious pot, continuing its inertial journey, would unscrew its threads and loosen its grip on the cover. Though the cemented lid could then not be removed from the wheel, its shiny metal attractiveness was with time deemed an advantageous vehicular option.”
“Dad, what’s a Molotov cocktail?”
creative warping
http://www.everythi....pl?node_id=1100879
btw, nice one wagster [FarmerJohn, Apr 27 2005]
[link]
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So this is yet another devil's dictionary, or what? |
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Mr. Molotov was an old Russian gentleman who had been brought up by his grandmother in days of yore. While farming the steppes they ploughed the soil with a sturdy Russian tractor, but winter brought hardship and cold. When temperatures dropped below -50c the diesel would freeze in the tank and the tractor wouldn't start, leaving them in danger of being unable to plant in the spring. |
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Mr. Molotov (then called "Timmy") would drink a bottle of the diesel every evening and store it in his stomach to keep it warm, before regurgitating it back into the tank the following morning and cleaning his lips with an old rag. Thanks to this, Mr. Molotov and his grandmother survived many winters and Mr. Molotov eventually grew big and strong and rose to become an important apparatchik in the Soviet administration. |
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He never lost his habit of drinking a bottle of diesel every evening (he found it helped him sleep), although as he grew wealthier he drank petrol with cinnamon instead. This habit spread to the Russian upper classes and became known as a "Molotov Cocktail". It is still served in a bottle with an old rag garnish. |
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I hope they don't take up smoking[wags] |
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I hope they don't take up smoking you either. |
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Hopefully son, that is something you will never know. |
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Well, perhaps by pictures in a book. |
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I heard that the hunt for MFDs turned out to be a real goat rope. Seems their information was faulty. |
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So MFD ... So where ... There's no where to go and you got all day to get there |
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UB: I disagree with the MFD. Several inventions are clearly proposed: |
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1) A novel, absurd, poor invention to open jars. (A combination of adjectives that seems perfect for the HB). |
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2) A rather well known way to answer an inquisitive child where you get to keep layering on more and more BS until the kid finally gets it and giggles. |
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Of course, my [+] & supportive annos have absolutely NO bias from my propensity to just bun nearly everything from FJ, Afro, and Benfrost. |
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"Well, son, an MFD was quite a thing to behold. On a bright, sunny day, an MFD could occasionally be seen coming from miles away, usually leaving a trail of smoke and candy flavored popcorn. Children would run into the streets and eat this popcorn, which was so delicious they would wind up violently killing each other with rakes, belt buckles, and glass bottles while fighting for possession of the delectable treat, until it had all been tainted by human blood as it flowed freely through the gutters.
"With the popcorn stained red with the elixir of life, the MFD would absorb it through its transparent membrane and grow several hundred feet in a matter of seconds, enabling it to eat all the clouds in the sky and allow the sun to set everything on fire. People would run screaming through the streets seeking shelter, only to discover that their abodes were also burning and die a horrible, painful death.
"The only people spared were those who wore suits made entirely of plastic hula hoops. They had to recite phrases from the Book of MFD in pig latin, or they would surely be doomed." |
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Thanks, [Afro]. And before anyone tells you that you shouldn't be writing children's stories, just remind them of how violent "Little Red Riding Hood" is. |
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"Dad, why are the streets covered in broken glass and pickles?" |
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"Because daddy drank a lot of vodka and stole a pickle truck. That also explains why you aren't going to see daddy for 3 to 5 years." |
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//And before anyone tells you that you shouldn't be writing children's stories, just remind them of how violent "Little Red Riding Hood" is.// Huh, Little Red Riding Hood is tame compared to Snow White, in the original the handsome prince and Snow White make her dance on hot coals while wearing iron shoes at their wedding until she dropped dead. Shows what a childhood the authors had all those years ago to think that up... |
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Is this an inside joke or something?
what exactly is the idea? |
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A novel method of removing lids from jars. |
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"Dad, what's lactose intolerant?" |
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"Well, y'see son, there was a time where if you didn't have any toes, you were considered unlucky, or that you were a devil. There had been many cases where enemies cut each others toes off so that their enemies could be executed without them seeming to have anything to do with it. These people were ridiculed in the street for not having any toes. Therefore, some innkeepers, to keep away these harbingers of bad luck from their business, put up signs saying 'lactose intolerent'." |
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It worked on my brother - until he went and told mum about what I was telling him. |
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