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February 15, 2007

2.15.07

The word of the day is backward.

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David: Trevor Lockhart And The Jungle Of Mystery

Trevor Lockhart peered through the underbrush at the native village. He spotted Betty inside a crudely-fashioned hut, being guarded by two half-naked aboriginal warriors.

“Okay, Professor, here’s the plan,” Lockhart whispered to his companion. “These are simple, uneducated savages who know nothing of the modern world. We walk into camp, show them some modern wonders like this Zippo, and convince them we’re white gods. We claim Betty, and we’re on our way.”

“Oh, my,” Professor Wainwright replied, “Do you think that will work?”

“Trust me, Professor.” Trevor stepped into the clearing.

The machine guns the natives drew were a surprise.

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Ted: Payback

His check was short. Again.

So Jason went down to Personnel to try to get it worked out.

Mrs. Pease was consoling as always, and assured him that his next check would have his backpay included.

It didn't.

Mrs. Pease said she would take care of this personally this time. And his next check would be correct.

It wasn't. He was overpaid by about exactly $620,448.18.

Mrs. Pease asked him on the phone if he would mind not mentioning to anyone that she personally had made a mistake. Jason agreed.

His next check was short. Again. Jason went to Aruba.

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Jeff R.: I Buried Paul

Clarie Newbury started with reel-to-reels. That was easy. The same with cassette tapes. Just pop, flip, and re-seal.

She re-wired a record player, requiring hours buried in the library's electronics books. And that was good.

Then CDs came. She resisted for a while, but when the millineum hand ticked she decided to bite the bullet, learn computers, master sound editing software. MP3s didn't slow her down a bit.

She can tell you exactly what perverse sex act each pop star is secretly talking about in the backmasked subliminals on their discs. These days, it's rarely worse that what plays forwards.

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