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posted by [personal profile] brain_spew at 11:34pm on 15/09/2010 under
Once upon a time there were these two mimes who, when they spoke at all, spoke only to each other and then only in rhythmic poetry. One day, one of the Mimes failed to come up with an appropriate couplet to warn his partner of an approaching steamroller. The newspaper the next day read "a hitch in rhyme paves mime."

Speaking of newspapers, saw this neat article the other day about Sherlock Holmes. In talking about the area he lived in, the article highlighted one of the problems that constantly faced the Great Holmes of England; No one lives in them anymore.

I was in a small town the other day and this guy told me about how these friars came in a while back, opened up a flower shop and only sold carnivorous plants, which weren't too picky about what they ate. Nothing the locals could do would make the friars budge. Finally, this kid from one of the farms, named Hugh, came into town, walked up to the friars, and told them to scram and they did. For only Hugh can prevent florist friars.

It was kind of a pity though. See, the Friars were historians and they had a lot of books and stuff. Got to leaf through one. Seems that a long time ago, there was this viking named Rudolph the Red and his wife. They were always fighting and always about small, petty things. It was kind of silly, really. For example. This one time, Rudolph looked outside and said that he was pretty sure it was going to rain. Immediately, his wife disagreed and they started arguing, going back and forth about how it was or wasn't going to rain until Rudolph had had enough. "Please!" he yelled out, "Rudolph the Red knows rain, dear!"

As I finished reading that, I happened to look up and watched this horse go buy pulling a cart, and he was wandering all over the place. Turns out the cart horse was named Absence. Poor guy. No one in town liked him since Absence made the cart go wander.

I felt sorry for the poor horse, but I had to meet a friend of mine at the local bar, so I went down there, but my friend didn't show and I seriously thought about leaving. But the bartender he, says to me, "Come on, man, Sherry you jest. Wine not give your friend another half hour or so? Beer in mind how many times you've been late to something."

He had a point. Then he told me a story. A while back, there were two funeral parlors in town and then one closed up shop when the mortician died. The remaining one gouged customers, engaged in false advertising, and even though no one liked them, what choice did they have? But then one day, the son of the mortician who died announced he was opening a new funeral parlor. Well, the first mortician didn't like that too much and tried every trick in the book to keep the son from carrying on in his father's shoes, and after a lot of trouble, the son finally opened for business. As he remarked to the mayor, "opening a new funeral parlor can be quite an undertaking."

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