I've been out advocating Capitalism this holiday season along with millions across the world. It's quite magical.
Well, it's been interesting, at least.
Whenever I buy a book I puzzle over the disparity in prices between the United States and Canada. Why do Canadians get charged so much more?
I'm certain that someday Canada will publish a book so amazing that everyone will have to have it and then the literary tables will be turned; the price for Canadians will be a mere $2.75, but in the US the book will be sold for no less than $20 and a written apology. At least.
Thursday, December 23, 2004
Tuesday, December 21, 2004
Monday, December 20, 2004
I heard a joke. I'd like to share it with you. It's about bats, which I like, and about priests, which I don't like as much as I like bats.
Three priests are sitting around in a bar, drinking and talking. Naturally, the conversation turns to problems at work. "I must tell you," says the first priest. "I'm having a most unusual problem. Bats have infested my church. I don't know where they came from, but they will not leave. I've already called an exterminator to spray poison where they roost but it hasn't worked. They just won't go away."
"That's awful strange," says the second priest. "I've got the same problem! A bunch of bats are just settin' there on the ceiling of my church. They're stubborn bastards, too. I got so fed up with 'em I finally just grabbed my shotgun and let 'em have it. Didn't work, though. Now I have bats and holes in my ceiling."
Then the third priest says. "You know, I know exactly how you feel. Not too long ago, I had the exact problem the two of you just described."
"Well, what'dya do?" the second priest asks.
"Well," the third priest says, "I went up to those bats, I baptised, I confirmed them, and I haven't seen a single one of them in church since."
Three priests are sitting around in a bar, drinking and talking. Naturally, the conversation turns to problems at work. "I must tell you," says the first priest. "I'm having a most unusual problem. Bats have infested my church. I don't know where they came from, but they will not leave. I've already called an exterminator to spray poison where they roost but it hasn't worked. They just won't go away."
"That's awful strange," says the second priest. "I've got the same problem! A bunch of bats are just settin' there on the ceiling of my church. They're stubborn bastards, too. I got so fed up with 'em I finally just grabbed my shotgun and let 'em have it. Didn't work, though. Now I have bats and holes in my ceiling."
Then the third priest says. "You know, I know exactly how you feel. Not too long ago, I had the exact problem the two of you just described."
"Well, what'dya do?" the second priest asks.
"Well," the third priest says, "I went up to those bats, I baptised, I confirmed them, and I haven't seen a single one of them in church since."
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