Suitably old but mysteriously advanced.
She turns sixty on 7/31. Please click through to her blog, Keeping You In Stitches.
You don’t have to comment, just give her a click to bump her stats.
(I see that same expression on her face at least two or three times a week and I know somebody is in for some fun.)
Dear Mr. McDonald,
I got a sticky on my large Diet Coke that said I could get a free 24 hour rental of a DVD from your store.
I will.
While looking at the fine print (I’m that kind of guy) I noticed that for every 24 hours I kept the DVD you would charge me one dollar. Once I hit $25, I can keep the DVD.
I don’t know a single person that would pay $25 for a DVD from your choices.
But I know a whole glob of people that would keep a DVD if you only ran up the fees to $9.
You’re welcome.
Sixty
(You don’t know how hard it is not to alliterate this post! 
)
Those damn communists have pilfered (see?) another idea that originated in the U.S.
A zoo in Indiana used to sell elephant crap for garden fertilizer. Bunny the elephant generated some great “Bunny Doo.” She now lives in the elephant retirement home.
The Chinese used to pay to haul away the Panda Poo from the province (slippage again, sorry.)
A giant panda research base in southwest China’s Sichuan Province has come up with a novel way to profit from panda dung – craft souvenirs out of it.
Researchers at the Chengdu center have sculpted photo frames, bookmarks, fans and panda statues out of the 300 tons of droppings produced by 60 giant pandas each year.
Jing Shimin, assistant to the director of the base, proudly declared that the souvenirs would be relatively odour-free. “They don’t smell too bad because 70 percent of the dung is just remains of the bamboo that the pandas are unable to digest.”
Obviously they have hired a marketing expert to advise them because who would think focus on the 70% bamboo and not the 30% stinky stuff?
And speaking of poo, best wishes to Rhea on her poop chute exploration. She also pointed her readers to this site where I found the answer to a question that has been haunting me for years. Why doesn’t human #2 come out in little pellets like bunny rabbits?
Hint: it’s actually good that it doesn’t come out that way!
Looks like a serious conversation broke out here.
I attempted to take a light hearted poke at a Mom and she responded, as did another. Remind me to be careful around Mom With Kids. I shouldn’t poke them.
I don’t think there is a difference between smart kids and gifted kids. I think the gummit has foisted “gifted” as a feel good term and made it political.
So I poked around a little bit and found this:
the Daily Mail: “Her parents knew Georgia Brown was bright. After all, she could count to ten, recognised her colours and was even starting to dabble with French.
But it was only when their bubbly little two-year-old took an IQ test that her towering intellect was confirmed.”
Georgia has become the youngest female member of Mensa after scoring a genius-rated IQ of 152.
This puts her in the same intellectual league, proportionate to her age, as physicist Stephen Hawking.
According to an expert in gifted children, Georgia is the brightest two-year-old she has ever met. Parents Martin and Lucy Brown have always regarded their youngest child as a remarkably quick learner.
She was crawling at five months and walking at nine months.
By 14 months, she was getting herself dressed.
“She spoke really early – by 18 months she was having proper conversations,” Mrs Brown said.
“She would say, ‘Hello I’m Georgia, I’m one’. She was also putting her shoes on and putting them on the right feet.” read more
So will the gummit declare her gifted? If the gummit gives us gifted kids can they still grow up to be geniuses? Or are they eternally gifted? Can a smart kid be a genius? Or are they just nerds? Would an artist qualify as gifted? How about an athlete? (Think Tiger.)
Inquiring minds want to know.
I sure am glad I never had to deal with such weighty issues in our family.
UPDATE: I had to deal with the Geek, Nerd, Dork issue. (Used to link to junk site.)
But back then there weren’t so many choices. Guys were either jocks or not. I played in the band, guess which I was.
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Contact
GoingLikeSixty@gmail
