You're welcome, Poopsie! (That's my little nickname for you, not due to some embarrassing story about you.) (Although if you have one I'll listen! Embarrassing, that is.)
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Anonymous said…
Hello,
I have a inquiry for the webmaster/admin here at smallandbig.blogspot.com.
May I use part of the information from this post right above if I give a backlink back to your website?
Charlie Anonymous: Sure, as long as it meets these Creative Commons conditions and isn't used in a derogative manner, such as belittling people. I always appreciate links to Small & Big! Thanks for asking. You're so mysterious.
Are you a mover and a shaker? A decider? Do you put the “man” in “ man agement” (and in “wo man ”)? Duh, or you wouldn’t be here today. Now that we’ve finished our three-hour vodka martini luncheon, I’d like to share something important with you. It’s about the Memogenda on your steel gray decision-making desk. The spiral notebook in embossed Leathertex paper. I don’t care what Irish illuminated manuscript calligraphers say, paper is so much easier to write on than dead animal skins. And the Book of Kells could have cut off a hundred years if those monks had Bics. ( At left: Unhappy monks. ) That’s but one reason why I so love my Memogenda ( at right ), and consult it for many a critical business decision. The system is simple to “manage” (har har!) and, if you open to Page 1, you’ll see the necessary instructions. I shan’t go over them. Do it yourself: thanks to the unique Memogenda system...
It has not escaped me that I have a somewhat profuse forehead. Or rather, a fivehead. The “high forehead” was thought to be much attractive in the 15th through 16th centuries, when wealthy gentleladies plucked their way to highbrowed beauty. Admirers took note of the greater brainpan and refined intelligence. (“My, my. Look at thee fo’ead on that one. Hubba hubba.”) Alas, today we no longer live in the Middle Ages, those pox-filled days of easy beauty. Those of us left behind, showing proof of high intelligence as we do, need to make do. So.... One day, a dame with a dome has a bright idea: Advertising Revenue. Then an even better, more refined idea: But a genius idea needs geniuses to buy into it. That’s where you come in. For example, say you’re an overpaid advertising executive. You’re gearing up to promote a dentist, electronics giant, and/or hemorrhoid creme. Or household goods and Sea-Monkeys. I don’t need to explain to you the...
My pedometer rarely sees an opportunity to count past 5,000 steps these days. Shameful. So today I drove an hour to spend the gray misty day walking in an art museum. There's lots of irony in warming up and cooling down from a walk by planting one's keister in a car. Still, spending a cold-to-the-bone day at a nifty art museum, getting cultured up, and walking for hours and hours and hours isn't a bad way to spend the day. That makes the Peabody Essex Museum ( website ) in Salem, Massachusetts a $13 walking track. Except that a bunch of art gets in the way of a truly aerobically stimulating workout. After three hours I walk six rooms total, because some guy named Joseph Cornell ( about ) left boxes everywhere. Boxes, magazines, parrots, and some hot girl balloon ( see photo ). And it's all firmly glued down. Even the boxes from way back in 1935. But with what? How could glue that old still hold? How could I increase my pedometer's step count in the midst of a Glue...
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Continue the excellent work!
I have a inquiry for the webmaster/admin here at smallandbig.blogspot.com.
May I use part of the information from this post right above if I give a backlink back to your website?
Thanks,
Charlie
You other Anonymouses: you're also mysterious.