"The price is exorbitant, the pleasure transitory, and the position ridiculous."
(Lord Chesterfield on sex)



In Sweden, it is illegal for a woman to pose naked for a photograph in a passport photo booth. . . A man isn't allowed to stare, wink at or whistle at any woman - except his wife - in Dresden, Germany . . On Norwegian beaches where nude or topless sunbathing is forbidden, people breaking the law are obliged to put on black plastic sacks they're given or face arrest. . . In Sienna, Italy, there is a law forbidding any woman named "Mary" from working as a prostitute. . .




(L.A.TIMES) Democrats in Sacramento faced with what is being called the "erosion of civility in the Senate," nevertheless defeated with a minimum of mud-slinging a Republican-backed bill that would have created an official state dirt for California. Rep. Dick Montieth of Modesto presented the soil of San Joaquin as the "essence of California" since it "supports the mima mound topography, which is a geomorphic feature of hillock or hummocky terrain." Sadly, however, San Joiquin Soil will not join the official state insect, the Dogface Butterfly, the state marine fish, the Garibaldi, and our state fossil -- the Saber-Toothed Tiger. What a dirty shame.




And our state fossil, incidentally, can be seen along with the Short-faced Bear, Merriman's Giant Condor, and Harlan's Mammoth Ground Sloth just past the Time Wall and the Block of Bones at the La Brea Tar pits. And while you're there, visit pit thirteen by the Extinction Mural and the Wall of Dire Wolf Skulls, where you'll come across the Hands-On Touch Bone. Now THAT should be our official fossil!




Fellow alien Glen Banks called me this morning to announce that my long-lost shirt-tail cousin, William Proctor, is featured on page three of today's Times in an article about the Unarius (Universal Articulate Interdimensional Understanding of Science) Academy on 67 acres in El Cajon. He's pictured under a "Welcome Aliens" sign with his blinking-UFO-topped "Space Cad," as he waits for his "Space Brothers" to land. He decries the recent suicides of the space monks and asserts that if they'd just waited until 2001, they could have hopped aboard one of the 33 ships which will land there "one on top of the other" and join their 33,000 space brothers on the path to peace and harmony. See? Patience, fellow patients.




In 1844, members of a fanatical group not unlike the Heaven's Gate Crew died by falling off a tall building where they had gathered to get closer to another passing comet which they believed was a celestial craft that would take them straight to Glory. Like their modern contemporaries, they also had decided to die in shifts so as to "avoid crowding at Heaven's Gate." Likewise, someone committed suicide just yesterday, "hoping to be put on standby." But Paul Ross (of the other Santa Fe) tells us what happened the day after. The "Gaters" are Jim Beamed up to the Mothership and, in classic fashion, Zyzzx, the alien leader lays out the mission's purpose. "Ours is a dying world," he says telepathically. "We called you here to help us re-propagate our species and -- waitaminute! You cut off your WHAT?!?"




And speaking of mad monks, some friars were behind on their belfry payments, so they opened up a small florist shop to raise the funds. Since everyone liked to buy flowers from the men of God, the rival florist across town thought the competition was unfair. He asked the good fathers to close down, but they would not. He went back and begged the friars to close. They ignored him. He asked his mother to go and ask the friars to get out of business. They ignored her too. So, the rival florist hired Hugh MacTaggart, the roughest and most vicious thug in town to "persuade" them to close. Hugh beat up the friars and trashed their store, saying he'd be back if they didn't close shop. Terrified, they did so - thereby proving that Hugh and only Hugh, can prevent florist friars....(Blame Tim Tuffield)




(L.A. TIMERS) In a conservative column by Laura Ingraham on April 6, she compares statements by Reagan with those of Clinton on selected topics. Some of them are quite amusing and revealing:

Reagan (Iran-Contra): fighting the juggernaut of communism in Central America.
Clinton (fund-raising): fighting the juggernaut of Bob Dole.

Reagan (George Bush): solicited support from the Christian Right.
Clinton (Al Gore): solicited cash from impoverished Buddhists.

Reagan (to Soviets): "Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall."
Clinton (to Chinese): "Cream or sugar?"

Reagan (C. Everett Koop): against tobacco abuse.
Clinton (Joycelyn Elders): for self-abuse.

And referring to Reagan's Trademark suit: "brown, wide lapels."
Clinton's? "Paula Jones, sexual harassement."




The man who became famous for his bomb attacks on Universities and Airports was named the Unabomber, taking the Un from University and the A from airport. There are a surprising number of "copycat" bombers out there the FBI are still looking for. Here are their codenames and M.O.s supplied by secret agent Wayne Newitt:

Baboonabomber -- Blows up primates

Macaroonabomber -- Blows up Coconut Cookies

Monsoonabomber -- Blows up things only during the rainy season

Buffoonabomber --Blows up idiots and ill mannered people

Spitoonabomber -- Blows up brass spittle receptacles

Tiny Toonabomber -- Blows up Steven Spielberg's Cartoon Studio

Kazoonabomber -- Blows up paper and comb musical instruments

Tunabomber -- Blows up fishermen that catch dolphins in their nets

Cancunabomber -- Blows up Mexican resort towns

Name that Tune-abomber --Blows up musical game shows




In keeping with the aimlessness of this issue, Larry Belling responded with a stupefying list of additions to John Apicella's "Dumb Comments" from the last orbit. The excerpts below are from his Slang Thesaurus, written as a HyperCard stack (which Larry graciously offers to all Macintosh users if you "e-nail" him at lbelling@ix.netcom.com.) Let's go!

"He's So Dumb He ..."

doesn't know enough to pound sand in a rathole
doesn't know a mule's ass from a lemon
doesn't know his butt from a gourd
doesn't know beans from bullfrogs
don't know dung from wild honey
doesn't know cow chips from kumquats
doesn't know sheepshit from cherry-seed
doesn't know frog-shit from pea-soup
doesn't know owl shit from putty without a map
couldn't find his ass with both hands at high noon
couldn't pour piss out of a boot with directions printed on the heel
If you put his brains in a bee, it would fly backwards
He's a few ants short of a picnic
He's three pickles short of a barrel
He thinks it's just to pee through
He thinks cunnilingus is an Irish airline
If he was any dumber, you'd have to water him




And for those of you who helped me pinpoint the airing of the ESPN "Radioactive Golf Ball" spots --- thanks. The issue is settled, so you need "Four" no more.

Farewell to De Kooning, restaurateur Frank Fat and Alan "Holy the Bop Apocalypse!" Ginsberg -- and hello to Ellen DeGeneres!



PP 4/7/97


Published 4/07/97

1996/2002 by Phil Proctor