ID Number: 582 From: jrichins2000
Subject: Re: Photo sets 85 and 82
Date: Thursday, January 03 2002 - 23:57:37
Finally, at approximately 11:23 and 37 seconds,
she succeeded in starting her car. All the while,
perfectly aware of the fact that the hour, minute, and
second values, each, were prime numbers. A lesser model
wouldn't have known the difference, but Lisa just didn't
have time to pray right now.
"I'll make it up
to you later, Shiva," she thought to
herself.
Speeding down the highway, she felt guilty for not
offering thanks for her prime number departure, and she
knew she must offer some token sacrifice to the
feminine avatar of the Hindu Goddess of Destruction. Lisa
wasn't yet Hindu, but, after getting a copy of the Kama
Sutra from one of her adoring fans in the mail, she had
to admit, she was curious.
Then, with a
start, she spotted her opportunity! There was a freeway
billboard advertising the startup of a new chapter of
Habitat for Humanity. "Why, I just happen to be carrying
6 gallons of eggshell white, and one gallon of
off-tone grey in a semi-gloss latex. If I'm in luck, they
will have a paint mixer right there on the
construction site, donated by a genorous Habitat for Humanity
benefactor, and I'll be able to paint the electrical boxes in
the new garage! If I perform this act of selfless
service, along with my usual oblations to Shiva of steamed
carrots and bottled water, then I believe I shall finally
rid myself of these ridiculous lesions that
conspicuously look like finger marks."
Even though Lisa
was hopeful, she secretly knew that the lesions will
always be visible under ultraviolet light... just like
on the X-Files.
Man, that Scully sure is
hot...
She took note of the toll free number on the
billboard, and rather than recklessly dialing the number
while driving at high speed on the freeway, she fumbled
around in her glove box to find a scrap of paper and a
pen, to write down the number so she could call it
later. As she skillfully darted in and out of a lazy Los
Angeles lunchtime commute, she searched for a writing
implement. Her mother never really came to understand her
decision to practice the old art of
steering-with-ones-foot-at-high-speed, but at least Lisa had the comfort of knowing that
her mother did not respect her any less for it.
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