Tornado Chasing For Dummies -- Belated Disclaimer

In my last episode of TCfD, a reader seemed to imply in comments that I should have noted "no flies were harmed in the making of this episode".

She's probably right; something of a disclaimer is waaaaay overdue here, and I thank her for bringing this to my attention.

But she's wrong, regarding the harm part. Unlike some of my progressive acquaintances, I simply must be honest.

Hence, for any previous and any future episodes of Tornado Chasing for Dummies, the following Disclaimer will apply:

DISCLAIMER: the creators of the service upon which this blogger posts, the ISP that supports my internet access, the FCC, ADA, OSHA, EPA, the National Weather Service, SKYWARN, any professional storm chase organizations, TV, radio or Internet weather organizations, herein referenced or not, do not necessarily reflect, endorse or agree with any of the subject material related herein.

No claims will be made as regarding the harmlessness of any particular chase episode: in each case, flies were harmed. Splattered all to hell, in fact. And not just flies: moths, millars, dragonflies, bees, or any kind of flying insect that made untoward, deteriorative contact with my vehicle windshield or grill, were killed in the making of these episodes. No doubt, countless larvae were left in broken, one parent homes as a result, if not entirely orphaned. Perhaps even some orphaned pests were unjustly removed from the insect welfare rolls during one of these storm chases. My auto doesn't discriminate; it kills all entomological entities encountered equally.

Any small furry rodents, reptiles or avarian creatures that inadvertently made deteriorative contact with any portion of my vehicle during the aforementioned, and future episodes, were likewise rendered per se road killa. Further, I will not deny that during each and every chase, my carbon footprint has been thoughtlessly, shamelessly, exploited and expanded: I burn additional fossil fuels I wouldn't otherwise have burned. I consume sustenance from non-biodegradeable containers, which wind up in landfills, somewhere. I emit flatulence from that sustenance, and generate additional human waste byproducts that add to the human poop print. My auto emits comparable flatulence. My tires leave residue to seep into ground water and plugs sparrow beaks and mosquito nose-needles. By using 20th Century film as opposed to digital photography, I add to the landfill with further non-biodegradeables. Add to that chemicals used in the development of that film, that permeates both atmosphere and ground sources.

No actual persons -- other than moi -- events, historical or fictional, will be depicted herein. You will not get Bill Paxson and Helen Hunt, ala Hollywood, impossibly outrunning a rampaging EF-5 on the ground here. What I do depict herein will have actually happened, despite the ribbing and abuse it may result in at future family holiday gatherings, none of which will probably be any more environmentally friendly than my storm chases, but I digress.

I even have occasion to urinate on a deserted rural roadside, probably into a gopher hole, or on some endangered speciological critter that I didn't care was there when I did it, and couldn't care less how some field rodent is impacted by my carbon pee-print as a result thereof.

I don't drive a hybrid. I don't recycle. I don't buy "green". I run my AC in summer, and furnace in winter.

Granted, I'll never catch up to the carbon footprint that that moron AlGore generates. I think "global warming" and "human-caused global climate change" are the biggest hoaxes since William Jefferson Clinton's "it all depends on what your definition of 'is' is", and Hillary's Bosnian sniper affair, but I digress again.

Bottom line here: flies, et al, will continue to die during my storm chases. Phhhfft. Deal widdit.

However, as a sop to any of you who came unglued reading this greedy, mean-spirited Disclaimer: none of the following have (so far) been harmed during the making of these episodes: dolphins, whales, spotted owls, polar bears, turtles, anteaters, possums, Califorlornia condors, gay weddings, harp seals, fish, Al Franken, hamsters, snail darters, dodos, flying monkeys, cowardly felines, tinpersons, witches on bikes or brooms (ettu, Hillary?), midgit bowlers, hay bales, Fred Phelp's Wichita church freaks, mad cows, Chris Matthews, dreaming chickens, long-haired hippie-type pinkos, progressives, scarecrows, satchel-laden suicide bombers, Keith Olberman, abortions, activist judges, Hollywood celebrities with the intelligence of tree stumps, Randi Rhodes, ACLUians, the DNC, endangered feces, George Soros, Recreate '68ers (also see long-haired hippie-type pinkos), collectors for Hillary's campaign debt, Obama supporters, or any other categories not directly addressed but probably inferred. Such will be the case so's long as they don't wander into my path when I'm in hot pursuit of a tornado, and can't see sh** in front of me. And with the posting of this Disclaimer, they can't say they weren't warned, and didn't have ample opportunity to avoid me when I'm blindly hellbent in the middle of a butt-kicking supercell. I will, however, sue the snarf out of any of the above, if their ignorance of or intended interference with the activity requiring this Disclaimer, leads them into the path of my pursuit, and impedes my obtaining a photo of that for which I am expanding my carbon foot and other prints for in the first place.

*TOING*...Good to have that legal crap out of the way.

A Protestor's Right To Know

Protestors are a paranoid lot, especially when one group in particular -- Recreate '68 -- has made repeated vows to upset the applecart in Denver during the Democratic National Convention in late August.

So how paranoid are the Recreate '68ers? They have demanded from the Denver Police Department -- via the ACLU -- information on just how DPD will meet the protesters: with what training, tactics, and equipment.

Information that DPD is, quite understandably, reluctant to impart in full, so the radical dumb a...leader of Recreate '68 -- Glenn Spagknucklehead -- can better prepare his doped-up, anarchist, socialist, communist standard bearers, with counter-law enforcement tactics of their own.

One apparent BIIIIIIG concern of Recreate '68 is the rumor that a functional part of DPD's arsenal to deploy against violent protesters is....a 'sonic' cannon. A device capable of propelling sonic waves to the level that create the infamous -- and fabled -- "brown note". A note that, or so the story goes, causes the human target of the brown note to lose immediate and total control of their bowels, right then and there.

In short, they are demanding to know -- and have the ACLU going to court to find out -- if DPD has a "crap cannon".

Personally, I can see where this would concern the leader of Recreate '68, and his meatheaded minions: being as full of sh** as they are, the "crap cannon" would empty them of all pretense and contents, on the spot. Leaving a very media-hungry protest group rather openly humiliated, and an even more nonplussed Denver Sanitation Department with a clean-up job worse than that in Cedar Rapids, Iowa.

In this case, Cedar Rapids is far better off.

A spokesperson for the Denver Police Department has denied that they have in their possession a sonic device that is capable of producing the mythical "brown note". A number of sound experts have also debunked the idea, though a few have acknowledged that a sonic device that creates "abdominal discomfort" does exist, though none of them suggest it can create the aforementioned "brown note", a note that has never been proven to exist.

So where did Recreate '68 and their pathetically stupid mouth pieces in the ACLU come up with this idiotic concern?

One almost certain good guess: Trey Parker and Matt Stone, and one particularly silly episode of the animated, parody-everything cartoon, South Park. In this referenced episode, Cartman & Co. are at a large kids' musical extravaganza, where during they are demeaned and insulted by a group of punks from NYC. Cartman decides to discover the infamous "brown note" so he can prank the NYC punks to crapping themselves on national TV. Unfortunately, in discovering the "brown note" -- and placing the substitute music on the door of the NYC punks -- adults running the program find the music, and think it's a last-minute substitution that is supposed to go for the whole program. Thus, there on national TV -- and for anyone in earshot across the world that day -- the "brown note" creates almost as much fecal material as the Democrat leadership in Congress.

Since the Platte River isn't capable of washing away the human filth that Glenn Spagknucklehead and Recreate '68 plan to put into the streets of Denver, it's probably just aw well that DPD doesn't have the mythical "crap cannon" in it's arsenal of protest-busting equipment. Then again, it's too bad that DPD doesn't have the true werewithal to put the full array of that crap on world-wide display.

Especially since I live upwind of Denver (with apologies to everyone downwind).

Storm Chasing For Dummies: Funnel With A Side of Flies

*Note: my one confirmed, one possible funnel cloud shots aren't ready for this posting, so I went with an earlier funnel photo from my limited stock of same*

Wednesday, June 18, 2008: once again, them professional prognosticators at the National Weather Service's Storm Prediction Center, gave storm chasers a thumbs up to possible severe weather in western Kansas and Nebraska, with a lesser chance in far eastern/northeastern Colorado.

And me, too. I asked my pet rock Seymour to suggest where I should go; his answer had nothing to do with surface geography. So ignoring the biblical reference to a really hot place from my rock, I flipped a coin: Kansas, again.

I am a glutton for punishment.

Getting a reasonable start, I could tell it was going to be a hot day locally: 90 degrees for Denver and vicinity. Approaching the noon hour, I'd passed into Kansas, and just like a week before, I was presented with a clear blue sky, with the barest wisp of unthreatening clouds to my west/southwest. But as I approached Colby, KS, I kept looking behind as well as ahead: back to the NW, one seemingly harmless cloud 'wisp' had suddenly begun to mushroom in the early afternoon skies.

*TOING*

I doubled back to Goodland, KS, and went straight north, watching the 'mushroom' grow ever larger, with 'chums' evolving behind it. When I reached St. Francis, KS, I did some map reading and sky watching, and decided to wander a bit more north and west, toward Haigler, Nebraska. But about halfway there, I began to note a curious 'drift' to the cloud formations, that suggested an E/SE direction.

*Note to Kansas road crew, working on a stretch of highway in the middle of next to no where: sorry about driving through your mess, twice* Though, the four hundred pound flagger appeared as disinterested in my first passage, as he did with my second.

So, I returned to St. Francis, and found a nice parking lot with a bit of elevation to it (yes, there are elevated areas in even bucolic, flat-as-heckydarnpoo Kansas), from where I watched the clouds continue to evolve, and searched my radio for an AM station that might give me some ideas of what was evolving out there. AM 730 -- out of Goodland, Kansas -- gave some satisfaction. Both with information, and lightning static: a severe thunderstorm was moving E/SE from the vicinity of Bonny Reservoir, in Eastern Colorado. It was projected to pass by, or over, the town of St. Francis, Kansas, within the hour, bringing with it rain, quarter-sized hail, and "damaging winds of 60 mph or more".

Deja (no) view, I begun to muse. Then the station return to it's regular programming (Dr. Laura SlammingSomeone, doing just that to callers), while I sat and patiently waited, and the sleepy town of St. Francis...just sat there.

Within 15 minutes, Dr. Laura's berating of one of her "stop with the 'I don't knows' and tell me something, idiot!' was interrupted by one of those tell-tale EBS tones: a tlkdowo genaion gkewiaos....now that my fingers are back over the right keys...a National Weather Service Robot was announcing that a tornado warning had been issued for a town NW of the Bonny Reservoir in Colorado, with the storm track projected SE. Areas included in the warning were the Bonny Reservoir, and NW Cheyenne County, in Kansas, including the town of St. Francis.

*TOING* It was time to consult my map. In the midst of consulting same, the folksy voice of a local 'weather center' announcer, back in Goodland (about 60 miles S), was telling the good folks of St. Francis "to take cover in your tornado shelters, or in a central bathroom or closet in your house, immediately".

I'm looking to the W/NW, and saying to myself, WTF (as in WhereTF)? Yes, the skies were a tad ominous to the NW...N...and NE. But anything tornadic on the horizon? Nawp. What's more, Bonny Reservoir was easily 20 or so miles NW of St. Francis.

Now, I know what you're thinking: the more warning, the better. Well, as an outsider looking in (and out), I can tell you how the good citizens of St. Francis reacted to this radioed tornado warning: *yawn*. There was no frenzy of people rushing about, with screaming mothers clinging to squealing kids, or rushing to secure lawn furniture and small pets. One guy walked out of a bar across the street, looked at the sky, shrugged, and went back in the bar.

While some college meteorology undergrads somewhere might have been nonplussed by this act of defiant indifference, I had to laugh. Having had three concussions, I do that now and again.

45 minutes later -- and with the local announcer out of Goodland, continuing the warning, along with additional ones in SW Nebraska and NE Colorado -- it was apparent that the storm was passing St. Francis to the N, moving E/SE. At one point, I did observe what appeared to be the makings of a wall cloud, north of town, but it fell apart shortly after forming, without anything dropping from it, other than my unabashed disappointment. Otherwise, all that St. Francis was getting from the passing storm was a few droplets, and some relief from the sun.

That bar patron should become a weather forecaster.

Meantime, a new voice was interrupting Dr. Laura's caller berations -- amidst heavy lightning interference and static -- warning of possible tornadic activity near a town called Benkelman, in SW Nebraska, with the activity moving SE. The same storm cell now passing to my north.

And more locations and counties were being mentioned, as more storm cells were cropping up all over western Kansas. Since I had a bonafide supercell-wannabe right before me, I reckoned it was time to chase, and finally -- !!!!!! -- I was in the right place for once. A quick review of the map suggested that if I headed out of St. Francis, east on US 36, I might just catch up to some fun hyar.

Off I went, toward a town named Bird City, about 14 miles east. One I didn't reckon was so named because of NYC-like inclinations of drivers or pedestrians, but I figured I'd find that out shortly.

Meanwhile, Goodland Radio was getting harder and harder to hear, as lightning was dancing it's high-energy routine across the northern/northeastern plains before me. Up to now, I'd not hit any kind of precipitation that required me to roll up my windows -- allowing three Kansas black flies to annoyingly hitch a ride, which I guess were preferable to flying monkeys or a witch on a broom -- but proximity of some of the more animated lightning finally encouraged me to end the free ride advertisement, as I rumbled on east, with three confused flies buzzing around my windows. Into and past Bird City I went, with not a single NYC gesture to be found, and closer now to some pretty intense activity.

Which, for me, finally included a funnel cloud to my east, before rain bands obscured it. I pulled over, snapped two photos, and hoped for more. What "more", I should have specified, 'cuz more is what I got, though not the 'more' I was seeking: with Goodland Radio now lost in a white noise of lightning static (Dr. Laura's caller berating had been replaced by agriculture reports on what corn, wheat, soybeans and hogs were going for these days), I again found myself in a veritable deluge: hard, driving rain, pea-sized hail, and some impressive winds. And positively squat for visibility. I crawled along a few more miles east, but saw nothing further, save for prodigious quantities of water in varied forms, and Wiley Coyote with that silly, undersized umbrella of his, with his ink running.

It's so too late to suggest to Wiley to trade in his stock options in Acme for corn or oil speculation, but I digress.

Deciding I'd pushed my luck as far as it needed pushing, I decided to turn back, and begin the four hours back to Denver, without a sidetrip to Oz. First, I managed to usher two of my fly hitchhikers out of the car, even if it was still raining rather prodigiously**; the third one managed to elude me until a stopover in Wiggen, Colorado, whereupon it promptly collapsed from oxygen deprivation, and I was able to leave it at the rest stop, holding an improv sign "Will Annoy For O2". I reckoned someone would take pity on a fly out of it's geographic element.

Bottom line: 600 miles, two tanks of gas, 12 hours on the road, and two (possibly three) photos of funnel clouds. Still not what I was after, but a week later, I'm getting arguably more cost-effective*, if unintentionally on the radar screens of PPETF**, for cruelty to flatland pests.

* ROFLMWallet'sAO

** Pathetic People for the Ethical Treatment of Flies

Dear Skunky - XIV

If not my theme song, it should be: storm chasing, scam-baiting, verbiage slaughtering, life-long bachelor, owned by a pet rock...yawp. If they're not yet coming to take me away, it won't be long...

Before I get to the gist of Dear Skunky XIV, here's some statistical stuff for you statisticians out there, who love this kind of numerological crap:

From May 1-May 31, I received (in one email account) a grand total of 127 email scams. That's not a typo. And yes, that was only in one email account. I have three others that receive scams, including the Russian bride scammers.

Of those 127 scam emails from May, they broke down as follers: 47 informed me that I had 'won' some kind of online lotto; 21 offered me 'jobs'; 11 were of the phishing variety; the remaining 48 were the general 419 type of offering me a percentage of millions, to help them get mythical money moved.

Of all of those email scams from this one account, I only replied to four. That's right: only four.

No, I'm not becoming an email scam snob. It's not that so many of these email scams are generally repetitive, and become boring and redundant after a time. Well okay, so they are. But in the month of May -- after having had an overabundance of some of the stupidest scammers this side of Uranus, or anyone elses' in April -- I decided to look for some different angle. And out of 127 examples, I found four, and only four, of exactly what I was looking for.

I knew that none of these four would result in any extended correspondence with the scammers; the affect of my intended reply to the scammers would see to that, I was reasonably certain. I wasn't disappointed.

But for the month of May, I decided to cue in on the title of the email. Especially if it were a stupid f***ing typoed title. Alas, I only had four contestants for the month of May, out of 127 registrants. Perhaps if I'd advertised this better, some of the others might have deliberately typoed, just to get a shot at a Dear Skunky appearance.

Maybe next time.

So, let's get onto the four contestants for May:

Contestant #1: Mr. Ken Johnathan (kenjonathan6@live.com), who simply wanted me to engage in a "lucrative business deal worth 12.5 million pounds". This was sent me under the email title, LAXATIVE BUSNESS POOPOSAL!!!

Either a very bad typo, or this dude's got a nicely twisted sense of ironic humor.

My reply was as short as his email: Wanker, what the bloody heck do I do with a "laxative busness pooposal? 12.5 million pounds of crap??? That's what you're bloody offerin' me, mate? Bugger off!

Bet he corrects that email header next time.

Contestant #2: Issa Bello (issa_bello02@bigmir.net) is another of those Burkina Fatso bankers, who wants my hep in moving funds of a daid customer from his bank. The guy's a piker, as the amount involved is only $4.3 million US; but his email title is sorta amusing: Urchin Respond Needed

Whadda I look like here, Red friggin' Lobster?

Yousa Bellow,

If you want an urchin to respond, write to a friggin* orphanage or aquarium. That's where you'll bloody find urchins, you third world moron. Don't you wogs learn anything about spelling, geography or biology? How the fork* can you be a bank president of anything other than an outhouse, with such abysmal ignorance?

* uncolorful metaphor substituted for what actually wuz sent hyar...

Contestant #3: Ladd. D. Arap (mrladd_arap2@gazeta.pl) has $76 Million US in gold, ensconced in a security company in the UK, and needs the help of a reliable "ferigner" to access it. This whole email is worse than that of a first grade class in Georgia, which is comparable to a class of high school seniors in the Denver Public Skools, but it's the email title that takes the cake: Pleese i need your assistant

No problem with this reply:

You can have my assistant. I never liked the fat little bastard anyway.

And finally, Contestant #4: Dr. Nasiru Ibrahim (nasiruibrahim90@yahoo.fr) is also a banker from Burkina Fatso, but at least he offers me more money than that other cheap twit ($22 Million US). But he does so under the most non sequitur email title: URGERNT ATTENNA!

WTF?

But that makes for an easy reply: SPECIAL! HURRY WHILE SUPPLIES LAST*!! SPELLCHECK PROGRAMS AT BONEHAIDS WHOLESALE SCAMMING WRITING SUPPLY!!! GET TWO-FOR-ONE SPECIALS WHILE THEY LAST*!!!

* limited to Burkina Fatso moronic bankers of dubious antecedence who have the brain of a door knob and don't know how to spell "urgent" or "attention".

So, who do you, the readers, think wins the heretofore unannounced contest for email title of May, 2008? Is it Contestant #1, #2, #3, or #4? Vote in comments, please. Voting closed by next posting (on or around June 13, 2008; all rights debatable).

Helping The Military Understand

*Originally published 1997; revised June, 2008*

What comes as no great surprise in this presidential campaign season, the current Democratic battle for the nomination centers on two non-military experienced candidates who seek to, among other things, stage a rapid withdrawal (aka, retreat) from Iraq. Both of whom -- despite their rhetoric -- have a history of little respect or regard for the US Military. I know one former career military person -- a Democrat himself -- who can testify to Hillary's open distain for military aides at the White House, during her tenor as co-President (in her mind).

In today's atmosphere, one place in particular where the progressive anti-war/military mind set is mosts pronounced -- besides, that is, in the media and Democratic Party -- is in academia. I would dare to guess that this is due, in large part, to a lack of understanding between what the military is, versus what the progressive mind set believes, based in post-Vietnam impropaganda from their largely 'progressive' indoctrinaires.

So the key to bridging the gulf of misunderstanding by progressives, as regards what the military is and does, is in clarifying definitions. Not for progressives; they don't know their butts from a hole in the ground, thanks in large part to their dysfunctional professors. No, this is a guide to help military personnel to understand what orifice-dysfunctional progressives are thinking, when they hear military terminology.

For example, if a college progressive hears the term "carrier", they are inclined to think it means someone who desperately needs socialized medicine.

With that in mind:

Frigate: a diplomatic way to say the real F word

Destroyer: the human race, as regards the environment, climate, polar bears, et al

Stinger: phrases they need more of, when debating conservative intellectuals, which they deny exist, but won't debate...

Hornet: an internet website that lists hos, according to gangsta rappers

Patriot: a football player in Ted Kennedy's district, or (b) a word that needs to be done away with

Cobra: something they thought feminists burned years ago...

Armor: then there's too much already

Traitor: any Democrat who votes with Republicans

Scud: what a cow chews

Amphibious Vehicle: what Ted Kennedy drove once, though they don't talk about it...

Army: a despised Republican from Texas

Marine: O'Hara

Air Force: passing flatulence

Armored Column: a metal pole

Infantry: a sapling that needs protection from loggers

Cavalry: if a Christian reference, bad; if an Islamic reference, good

Battalion: a scene from The Lion King

Assault Weapon: Rush Limbaugh's microphone

Target: a place to shop cheap

Target Negated: built one of those hated Walmarts next to it

Missile: what progressive speeches are meant to do with the public's understanding

Ambush: are not!!!

Mandate: what those neanderthals in the military won't let men do...meanies...

General: better than being specific, especially when it gets to details about liberalism

First Strike Weapon: Jeremiah Wright, Louis Farrakhan, Al Gore, et al

Defense: the one they use to conceal their pot plants from 'the man'

Satellite: a lighter saddle, better for horses according to animal rights activists

Strategy: lying and dissembling

Sonar: and yet so far away...

Radar: that goofy kid on MASH

Battle Group: collection of "Recreate '68" protestors

Ordnance: one of those federally unfunded things that aren't okay if issued by Republicans

Medal: what they feel the Patriot Act does in their and terrorists' private lives

Valor: some type of fabric for stuff

Bunker: a textbook Republican mean-spirited bigot that was on TV in the '70s

Submarine: a sandwich

Drone: a poking-fun reference to Dubya's speaking style

Air Strike: something Republicans unfairly interefered with, like Reagan did in the 80s

Territorial Violation: military recruiters on any college campus

Demilitarized Zone: any college campus

Friendly Fire: token "wrist slaps" from the liberal media, rare as they are

Deterrent: that metal housing on top of a tank that kills innocent Islamofascists

Weapons Free: a problem that needs to be eliminated by outlawing all guns for law-abiding citizens

Intelligence: oh 'duh'...like wow, man, they ain't got none a dat, or they wouldn't in the military, dude...

As the US Military continues to serve the nation in harms' way, it is hoped that this guide will help them to understand some pathetic, pithy segment of their 'progressive' civilian opposition.

Whether that will be of comfort to them, now...that's another matter.

Dear Skunky -- XIII

Allegations of religious blasphemy leads some folks to outrage, turning over and BBQing cars, and threatening all sorts of jihaddish behavior.


For others, it's just a gas. Like email scammers.


From Mrs. Florence Scam...er...Gram (mrsflorencegram@kuwaiti.tv), I get an email titled Dearest In The Lord (which immediately got a hearty phfffft out of Pastor Gas, Rev. Tilton). Here are some of the more...er...religious references that are interwoven with an obvious scam:


Recently, my Doctor told me that I would not last for the next Eight months due to cancer problem. Having known my condition I decided to donate my late husband's fund ($3 Million 5 Hundred Thousand US Dollars, secured by her sex-starved husband -- another victim of palmicide after 11 years of marriage without a child -- with a security company in Europe...she says) to a church that will utilize this money the way I am going to instruct herein. I want a church or Individual (*TOING*..that's me) that will use this fund for orphanages, widows, propagating the word of God and to endeavor the house of God is maintained. The Bible says "Blessed is the hand that giveth" ("the business" was not part of the biblical quote, but she'd of added it if she were honest). I took this decision because I don't have any child (if you'd a opened up the iron box at the inverted Y, you might have) that will inherit this money and my late husband relatives are not Christians and I don't want his money to go to non-believers.


Yeah, right. Anyway, she goes on with With God all things are possible (including finding dupes who believe this disingenuous, hypocritical tripe of yours) and as soon as I receive your reply I shall give you contact of the security company. Then comes this closing flourish: Exodus 14 vs 14 says that "the lord will fight my case and I shall hold my peace". Whoever that Wants to serve the Lord must serve him in spirit and Truth.

She'd be a good disciple of Rev. Tilton, shore 'nuff.

Now, I don't get as riled as some do, when someone takes religion for granted, or tries to use it to take advantage, as Pastor Gas and this lowlife trollope do. In fact, I tend to get a bit irreverent. Perhaps a bit too irreverent for some who'll read what follows, but if you've been reading Dear Skunky for a few episodes, you'll have guessed that this kind of response was coming at some point, and once again as Jack N. Ewehoff:

Dear Madam Gram of Crack, I am moved, much as a bowel, by your words of praise of Hisself and your turn to fauxgenerosity as you rot like a carp on hot asphalt. Seeing as how you are biblical in your efforts to give me His alleged business, I would like to add a few additional, and I believe, germaine, passages of faith, that will have your heart pounding with..er..some kind of reaction. Hopefully, a cardio vaporlock:

In the beginning there was nothing, and from nothing, something happened. Damned if I know what, 'cuz I wasn't there -- Gennys Sis 1 verse 1

With God, all things are possible; not so when the legislature is in session -- Damocles 3 verse 15

If it walks like a duck, talks like a duck and craps like a duck, anyone but a blonde is reasonably sure it isn't a badger -- Dry Heaves 8 verse 9

Yes, I have no bananas. Screw you, hippy -- Gennys Sis 9 verse 16

I don't fancy a crown of thorns or a porcupine enema, either way or end -- Matthew 3 verse 6

I bet that'll leave a mark -- Mark 16 verse 7

If asked if you are a moron by birth or choice, a simple shrug would be best -- Luke 14 verse 11

Life's tough. It's tougher if you're stupid -- Duck 6 verse 14

No soup for you! -- Seinfeld 12 verse 21

I'd like you to meet Ma Thumb and her four daughters, serving Mankind when Womankind has a headache -- Palms 1 verse 1

Go ahead, make my day -- Durdy Harold 6 verse 8

Dagnabbit -- Paul to the Colostomies 2 verse 18

Hark - what through yon window break? It is a rock! And I just replacethed that window! Damneth! -- Shakespeare 4 verse 13

God gave you two heads, but only enough blood to work one at a time. Choose wisely -- Peter 1 verse 1

Not split pea soup again -- Revulsions 3 verse 1

Constipation is the ultimate form of anal retention -- Proctology 6 verse 7

That from which your lower orifice spews is not blasphemy; it is blastfromyou -- Isaiah Geeawd that stanks 1 verse 10

And Mary said to Joseph, "lighting farts is so juvenile...stop it" -- Mass Exodus 4 verse 2

If there is anything further I can do to lend you comfort in your hour of realizing you screwed the biblical pooch on this scam attempt, please feel free to print this out and shove it up your ass, sideways.

The Widow Florence Gram was apparently so overcome with my supportive words, she was rendered speechless...though, there might be a fundamentalist sect out there somewhere that now deigns me a heretic. That's okay; Islamofascists already thought me an infidel. Eh.