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A fair exterior is a silent recommendation.
-- Publilius Syrus
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A fake fortuneteller can be tolerated. But an authentic soothsayer
should be shot on sight. Cassandra did not get half the kicking around
-- R.A. Heinlein
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A famous Lisp Hacker noticed an Undergraduate sitting in front of a Xerox
1108, trying to edit a complex Klone network via a browser. Wanting to help,
the Hacker clicked one of the nodes in the network with the mouse, and asked
"what do you see?" Very earnestly, the Undergraduate replied, "I see a
cursor." The Hacker then quickly pressed the boot toggle at the back of
the keyboard, while simultaneously hitting the Undergraduate over the head
with a thick Interlisp Manual. The Undergraduate was then Enlightened.
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A fanatic is one who can't change his mind and won't change the subject.
-- Winston Churchill
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A farmer is a man outstanding in his field.
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A feed salesman is on his way to a farm. As he's driving along at forty
m.p.h., he looks out his car window and sees a three-legged chicken running
alongside him, keeping pace with his car. He is amazed that a chicken is
running at forty m.p.h. So he speeds up to forty-five, fifty, then sixty
m.p.h. The chicken keeps right up with him the whole way, then suddenly
takes off and disappears into the distance.
The man pulls into the farmyard and says to the farmer, "You know,
the strangest thing just happened to me; I was driving along at at least
sixty miles an hour and a chicken passed me like I was standing still!"
"Yeah," the farmer replies, "that chicken was ours. You see, there's
me, and there's Ma, and there's our son Billy. Whenever we had chicken for
dinner, we would all want a drumstick, so we'd have to kill two chickens.
So we decided to try and breed a three-legged chicken so each of us could
have a drumstick."
"How do they taste?" said the farmer.
"Don't know," replied the farmer. "We haven't been able to catch
|Freebsd Fortunes 2: 617 of 1371|
A fellow bought a new car, a Nissan, and was quite happy with his purchase.
He was something of an animist, however, and felt that the car really ought
to have a name. This presented a problem, as he was not sure if the name
should be masculine or feminine.
After considerable thought, he settled on an naming the car either
Belchazar or Beaumadine, but remained in a quandry about the final choice.
"Is a Nissan male or female?" he began asking his friends. Most of
them looked at him peculiarly, mumbled things about urgent appointments, and
went on their way rather quickly.
He finally broached the question to a lady he knew who held a black
belt in judo. She thought for a moment and answered "Feminine."
The swiftness of her response puzzled him. "You're sure of that?" he
"Certainly," she replied. "They wouldn't sell very well if they were
"Unhhh... Well, why not?"
"Because people want a car with a reputation for going when you want
it to. And, if Nissan's are female, it's like they say... `Each Nissan, she
[No, we WON'T explain it; go ask someone who practices an oriental
martial art. (Tai Chi Chuan probably doesn't count.) Ed.]
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A few hours grace before the madness begins again.
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A figure with curves always offers a lot of interesting angles.
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A fisherman from Maine went to Alabama on his vacation. He rented a boat,
rowed out to the middle of the lake, and cast his line, but when he looked
down into the water he was horrified to see a man wrapped in chains lying
on the bottom of the lake. He quickly rowed to shore and ran to the police
station. "Sheriff, sheriff," he gasped, there's a guy wrapped in chains,
drowned in the lake!"
"Now ain't that jest like a Yankee," drawled the sheriff, "to steal
more chain than he can swim with?"