18 July 2005

The sister hood.

Before a life of crime provided me with the wherewithal to afford such luxuries, I desperately wanted a telescope.

No, you pervs, not to spy on Betty-Sue Wankfodder’s boudoir; I was only interested in astronomy, and if the telescope was ever pointed in that direction, it was purely by accident. (Well, I am a tad bit accident prone).

Since I could not buy a telescope, I bought some mirror blanks and set to polishing them myself. I fashioned a slurry polisher from an ancient fan motor, some cams and gears, and housed the unholy contraption in a length of 3 inch diameter PVC pipe. The thing bucked and jerked like an epileptic weasel while throwing sparks and smoke like a crack addicted roman candle. Amazingly, the hideous thing worked well.

You can imagine my surprise when it was stolen. When I questioned my sister about it, she replied:

“Sure. I sold it as a sex toy to one of the more vapid sorority girls for $50. She calls it Mjolnir.”

Mjolnir!? “ I said incredulously. “Um, wouldn’t that make her Thor?”

“Yeth, I thuppose tho, but she hathn’t complained yet.”


And that's the way I likes it.