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October 30, 2006

10.30.06

Is that blonde ditzy? Is that redneck lazy?

Prove or disprove a stereotype.

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Jim: Misconceptions

“Dude, you got it all wrong.

“First off, ignore the way I look. Did I shamble up to you, moaning; with my arms stiffly out in front like some sort of Lon Cheney knock-off?

“I most certainly did not. My balance is impeccable. Here. Watch me do a little dance.

“Of course, I can’t get any dance partners. I think it’s because I smell bad.

“And why would I possibly want to eat brains? That’s just gross.

“I can never sleep, though. And I’m so tired.

“So I won’t mind if you blow my head off with that shotgun.

“Really.”

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Tanya: T minus eight days

That’s right. My only goals in life are to make homeless people starve, enlarge the ozone hole, and eat all the caribou around the Alaskan oil wells I’m drilling. I giggle with glee when middle eastern children suffer.

I’m homophobic, racist, sexist, and a die-hard Christian. If they catch me alone and I’m not thumping either a bible or a minority, they might take my card away.

You must really understand me. And you’re so tolerant, trying to get to know me instead of just assuming. Now go away, before I prove that we really are all trigger-happy gun nuts.

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David: Tres Chic

“That’s not what it’s about. I’m not a geek because I quote Monty Python, go to Renaissance festivals, or know what ‘frack’ means. It’s like science. The laws of motion and evolution aren’t science. Science is the process used to learn those things.

“Likewise, geekism is a process. A near-obsessive interest in and enthusiasm for a given subject. A person could be a geek about sports, cars, or politics just as easily as he could about D&D or comic books. I expect everyone is a geek about something.”

“So, can you fix my computer or not?”

“He sighed, defeated. “Yes…”

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Ted: Snake Eater

Folson froze, his emotions under control while around him the rainforest teemed with fear and death.

Target: less than a hundred yards away, slightly under cover.

Too far -- must get closer.

A brief, stray, thought of annoyance nagged his lizard brain as he wished his quarry could just make things easy once in a while. Two tours in Asia had taught him that the job never easy and the target never co-operated.

He raises his instrument. Good view now. Takes the shot.

Clickclickclickclick the motor drive activates and Folson has his cover shot for National Geographic:

The red-bellied snake eater.

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From The Comments: Keiran Halcyon

The El Camino's bumper kissed the pavement once as the sounds of Chamillionaire rattled windows down the alleyway. Verna slowed down, sliding past fire escapes and boarded windows. He reached the edge of the blacktop court just in time to see KeShawn climbing past the warped corner of the chain-link fence.

Ball in hand, Verna hopped the fence and walked to where KeShawn knelt, retying his shoes and donning his sweatband.

"You ready?"

KeShawn nodded.

"Yo' momma's so sweet she's gonna put Hershey's out of business."

"Yeah? I hear yo' momma's so kind, she makes Mother Theresa look like Roseanne."

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