I have another 4 gmail invites waiting to be sent out. In good procrastinator fashion, the first 4 respondants who comment with what they consider a good way to announce that one has 4 gmail accounts waiting to be sent out, will –erh– get the gmail accounts.
Update: I now have 10 of these to give away. Get them off my hands, please!
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Oh, and be sure to fill in your current email-address, or I won’t be able to send off the invite…
“don’t throw anything away” !!!?? are they mad !!!
For a Gmail invitation, this what I would announce (and is only partially my creation):
‘Twas the night before Christmas and Santa’s a wreck…
How to live in a world that’s politically correct?
His workers no longer would answer to “Elves”.
“Vertically Challenged” they were calling themselves.
And labor conditions at the North Pole
Were alleged by the union to stifle the soul.
Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety,
Released to the wilds by the Humane Society.
And equal employment had made it quite clear
That Santa had better not use just reindeer.
So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid,
Were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid!
The runners had been removed from his sleigh;
The ruts were termed dangerous by the E.P.A.
And people had started to call for the cops
When they heard sled noises coming from their roof-tops.
Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened.
His fur trimmed red suit was called “Unenlightened.”
And to show you the strangeness of life’s ebbs and flows,
Rudolf was suing over unauthorized use of his nose
And had gone on Geraldo, in front of the nation,
Demanding millions in over-due compensation.
So, half of the reindeer were gone; and his wife,
Who suddenly said she had enough of this life,
Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz,
Demanding from now on her title was Ms.
And as for the gifts, why, he’d ne’er had a notion
That making a choice could cause so much commotion.
Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,
Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her.
Nothing that might be construed to pollute.
Nothing to aim. Nothing to shoot.
Nothing that clamored or made lots of noise.
Nothing for just girls. Or just for the boys.
Nothing that claimed to be gender specific.
Nothing that’s warlike or non-pacific.
No candy or sweets…they were bad for the tooth.
Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth.
And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden,
Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden.
For they raised the hackles of those psychological
Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.
No baseball, no football…someone could get hurt;
Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt.
Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passe;
And Nintendo would rot your entire brain away.
So Santa just stood there, disheveled, perplexed;
He just could not figure out what to do next.
He tried to be merry, tried to be gay,
But you’ve got to be careful with that word today.
His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground;
Nothing fully acceptable was to be found.
Something special was needed, a gift that he might
Give to all without angering the left or the right.
A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision,
Each group of people, from every religion;
Every ethnicity, every hue,
Everyone, everywhere…even you.
So here is that gift, it’s price beyond worth…
“A Gmail account, Google’s heaven on earth.”
the tutility muffin research kitchen
FZ is a very most music of century 20
he was e incrideible guitar and speak guitar notes are very imposibke of reproducer
Two down, 8 to go. Did I mention there’s a time-limit? This incredibly exciting contest ends by tomorrow 7am my time. 1 gigabyte storage! Incredibly sexy xml http Request action going on!
Go on, you geek you…
ps: alana: I don’t know just what type of shit you smoke, but I’m afraid it’s not going to get you a gMail invite. Even so, I must agree: FZ is a very most music of century 20. I mean, I couldn’t have said it any better.
Frustrated by your inability to store all your priceless Frank Zappa and related mail? Unable to tell the wheat from the chaff? Suffer from Chronic Indecision Syndrome (CIS): what to delete, what to keep? And, yes, when you finally make a decision, it’s always the wrong one – right? Cannot afford the ink – like most of us – the print out your voluminous correspondence and near endless web hyperlinks? Getting tense and frustrated? Well, relax, your days of woe are finally over – yes, your GMail account has arrived today and you will never have to delete anything ever again. Think of it, no more need for executive decisions or ever to be sensible again! Keep everything, store everything. So more time to listen to Frank Zappa and be a regular cool guy …