Why you can’t REALLY trust Wikipedia

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There is a Wikipedia tradition of stampeding for the bio of anybody who just croaked so you can mess with it.  I checked Evel Knievel’s bio, and then I hit this clanger and just about whizzed myself laughing.

It’s NOT TRUE.  It will be gone the next time you look.  But it’s pretty funny, in a classically sick way. 

 

So then I go back into the entry, and sure as sugar it’s gone, but then then THIS gem turned up.  A fistful of lies in every refresh!  Get ’em while they’re hot.

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OOOh forgot to mention

I am going to Conflikt in January, and and and… I have set myself the task of writing three songs before the con.  The first one is substantially complete.  It’s a filk based on that Dutch children’s song I posted here recently, and it’s about that ever loving bastard Nicholas Van Rijn.  Next up; an Octavia Butler filk and an Eric Frank Russell filk.  This should be interestin!

Lusty Neighbors and Pimp Primer

Tea and cookies and porn this evening…
Lusty Neighbors and Pimp Primer –  those were the titles of the flicks we watched at the November meeting of the Royal Vancouver Pornographic Society.  They were grindhouse.  Words cannot describe how execrable they were; they were about as erotic as a panhandler, as aesthetic as an airport washroom, and as well performed as a public school pageant.  The dialogue raised hoots of derisive laughter at every turn.
Porn sure has changed.  Nowadays everybody gets everything depilated and bleached; then, performers did their thang with visible bruises and scuff marks, pimples and back hair.  And dirty feet, yeeech.

Anyway I was welcomed with cries of glee (I made biscotti) and was made to feel right at home.  Things broke up around 10:30; I had the car until one so I gassed up, grabbed some groceries, unloaded them, and then took the car back to its stall (I had the Hyundai – the Prius was engaged) and walked home, where to my disGUST two younguns saw me coming and ran away so as not to be doing dope in front of me.  I halfheartedly chewed them out and told them this is Vancouver and it’s your god given right to smoke drugs in public here.  They offered me some but I declined, although I thanked them for being neighbourly.  God almighty!  Do I LOOK that old?  I was walking briskly enough….

There’s a party next door.  I was invited but I’m not attending. I took biscotti to thank them for inviting me earlier this evening.  I will have enough left over to feed some coworkers tomorrow.  Hey Paul if you read this do you want me to make a batch for your coworkers?