I do not think that post means what you think it means.

My name is Inigo Montoya....

 

Sounds like another question for Ron.

 

I can't decide if the world is coming to or fleeing from.

 

The world is "coming to" after blacking out for two minutes and seventeen seconds in the new hit series, Flash Forward, coming to ABC this fall!

 

Well, there ya go. The world is coming to when it should have been fleeing from the object that decked it.

But isn't "hit series" redundant in this context?

 

Dear Ron,
I forget, which end of the universe is the restaurant on?

 

WHEN is more important than WHERE.

At the End of Time, when they are all the same.

See you then/there.

 

Ron:

Hey, I have an English degree and a law degree. I enjoy reading, but when I read, I usually only read literary classics, biographies, historical works and theological materials. I write several thousand words a week in the form of letters, pleadings, motions, and I try cases. So I have to prepare opening statements and closing arguments. Not to appear conceited, but I would venture to say I know a little bit about writing--if not persuasively than at least effectively professional bullsh*t.

Now here's my question. Put aside all your concerns about Hawking radiation, event horizons, black holes, worm holes, multi-verses, the big bang and whether a massive black hole in the center of the galaxy will collapse into an alternative dimension.

When my teenage daughter writes a college entrance essay and asks me to critique it, why does she get upset when I do something like in fact actually critique it?

Answer me this, and the meaning of life will be clear.

 

Because, dear man, you are not just anyone. You are Daddy. You are at the core of how this young woman defines herself and have a much more important role than literary criticism.

Let someone else critique her writing and teach her to drive. You continue to nurture her soul.


Yours in admiration for parents everywhere.

Ron

 

Hey, Ron...something else has been bugging me...

Where do those socks go to? Is there a portal in my dryer that leads to another dimension or what?