First. >:D HAR HAR

pffft ignore him. I was first, hes just a cheetah.

Pfffft, mwaaahaaahaaa... "Putain" means hooker in French! Great choice for a company name. Do they have a French version? Do they?

"Hooker's bookjerk"
Puts the "jerk" part in a whole 'n other perspective!

Personally, I have nothing against the Czech Republic, why do you? What about Lech Walesa? How does it compare to Slovakian software? Is it just this one instance of acid reflux?

Good review, by the way!

HaHa, that's weird, "bookjerk" means "leprechaun eyeball pie" in Irish! What are the chances?

I totally disagree with this review. This program is a godsend! My wood chipper technical manual library was a mess until I got this program. Now when you assholes shit out of fear of dull blades in my wood chipper, I know exactly which manual I need pull out to knock you unconscious.

First Hitler.
Then Stalin and the Communists.
A glimmer of hope in the Prague Spring mercilessly snuffed out.
The one bright spot: Vaclav Havel and the Velvet Revolution (sounds like a Greenwich Village punk band, actually).
Then the Slovaks take their dolls and go home.
Now "Bookjerk".

Such a sad, sad history for such proud and talented people. Czechs, you have my deepest sympathies.

Hello Comrade Snake Eyes

You are totaly corect the Czech Republic is a nicer place than Poland and that is because Lech Walensa does not live there that

general Jaruzelski

I have a big weiner.

Gasoline is the opiate of the masses.

Gasoline is the opiate of the masses.

Rotten eggs are the sulphate of the marshes.

badgers are the badgers of the badgers

penises are the obsession of longdongsilver

Electricity causes warts.

A room and a meal
And a garbage disposal
A lawn and a hose'll
Be strictly genteel

Reach out your hand to the girl in the dog book
The girl in the pig book, and the one with the horse
Make sure they keep all those businessmen happy
And the purple-lipped censors and the Germans of course

Franz, not Frank, you fool.

And it's Kafka. Kafka. Not Zappa.

tch. Honestly.

I have a curious animal, half kitten, half lamb. It is a legacy from my father. But it only developed in my time; formerly it was far more lamb than kitten.

I need a new Czech book, jerk.

The animal represents your parents, the kitten, your mother, the lamb, your father. You are the 'legacy' of your father. You dream that you desire the kitten, but she repulses you, leaving you to feel guilt, and yearning for the softness of the lamb. This only causes you more guilt. Alone in the world, you move to New Zealand, and marry a lamb. There, the beauty of your young sheep mate gets you elected mayor of Wellington, whereupon you declare martial law and order the execution of all cats. This causes you more guilt, but even more pleasure. You exult in your power over the cats! You revel in your subjugation of the lamb! You make a very nice ca-ca!

Ooops, sorry, Mr. Kafka, time's up...

Consarn it! You is only 'lowd ter marry sheep in Texas (maybe Arkansas, but they's goofy anyways). Ah hereby declares New Zealand as the new Axles of Weevil. You has 24 arrs ter send all yer sheep to my ranch. Cheney gots a huge woody already. If'n you don't we'se gonna invade Swaziland (er wuz thet Switzerland? Ah kin never 'member which is what) just ter show ya we kin do it.

hey georgie boy !!!

Vaclav Havel was actually a big Zappa fan, and appointed him "Special Ambassador to the West on Trade, Culture, and Tourism".

Wacky.

Also, you jumped a decimal point when converting from $ to Kc.

cau!

Over 80% of the people who die, in automobile accidents, have eaten carrots in the past year before their deaths.

Over 80% of people who die, in automobile accidents, have had at least one glass of water in the past year before their deaths.

Over 90% of statistics are made up on the spot.

Nearly 112% of the posts that use statistics on PvT have an error rate of 93.8%. This correlates to an average IQ of 200 for the readers, 69 for the posters and -8 for the authors of the crap that is reviewed. You can verify these results by eating carrots, washing them down with a glass of water and then going for a leisurely drive.

Never drink and drive.
You'll spill it.
Finish your drink first, then drive.

augment extraterrestrial conference blind badminton botanic mavis daredevil folklore aggression cutworm hutchins forborne corpora albuquerque alison irrawaddy clatter cub plaything abscissa baptist decommission faustus shallow criterion butyl devonshire birdbath craptacular clothesmen councilwoman encumber confirmatory deterrent afire havana brownell precinct poplar catalpa documentation arccos boylston swordplay blitz shirtmake notwithstanding parquet amiss preamble supersede clutch vanguard cumulus verde glove

wise words, uncertain future. You are a demi-god of wiseness.

In Australia we have a saying: "if you drink and drive, you're a Bloody Idiot." It is on TV adds about the dangers of drink-driving.

Obviously, it only applies to thirsty vampires, who, apon driving whilst taking a drink of blood, spill it on themselves. Those bloody idiot vampires!

~ozi

More advice:
Alcohol and sleeping pills do not mix. Unless you use a blender.

Also, when driving, it is wise to maintain consciousness at least 90% of the time if you don't want to get a ticket. If you are however simply attempting to arrive at a destination no matter what, being awake is highly unnecessary.

And no molesting the stick shift, I don't care how long and hard it is, get a bloody woodchipper and satisfy yourself OUTSIDE the vehicle. Unless it's one of those mini-woodchippers, then feel free to have it freely feel you where ever you find most fine.

Do be a gent and pass the brie.

Don't drink and die. Oh, and don't forget to thoroughly masticate your beverages before swallowing. It improves digestion by at least 32%.

(The wise advise above certainly applies to Putain.)

Recent studies have shown that in over 80% of all reported cases, dying has been an impediment to driving. However, 5% of all drivers showed improved reaction time after death. The other 10% were apparently too drunk to find their keys.

I know it's a dreadful thing to drink and drive.

But if you'd ever seen Grandma, you'd understand why I have to drink to drive her to and from the Nude Backgammon heats.

And Belvedere flat out refuses to take her. Frankly, I can see why.

What's the old saying? "If thine eyes offend thee, pluck them out"?

Believe me, I've tried ...

Personally I've come to the conclusions that "percents" are much overrated as a unit of measurement. I think on this list I could find the necessary support to express everything "per badger" in the future. Suddenly all kinds of statistics would make much more sense to the common people.

Please consider this small example that illustrates this:
Instead of saying "12% of drunken drivers drink and drive" you'd say "0.00000027451 drivers per badger swing and jive."

As you're all itching to know this, here are the latest teenage pregnancy statistics:

0.0043901 pregnant women per badger give birth to children aged 13 to 19. (That's 0.4% for you old school fundamentalists.)

You'll be shocked to know that of these kids, 0.2669754033 per badger drive dead drunk out of the womb! (And no, I don't even want to know how those tricycles got in there in the first place. I've got trouble enough picturing a naked adolescent full of acne and his mother's blood, pedaling furiously in a drunken haze on a far too small tricycle to race out of there.)

Thanks to the exceptional strength and elasticity of the umbilical cord however, no lethal accidents have been reported so far.

Lesson to draw from these stats: when you drive drunk, buckle up.

All this talk of badgers is rather Northern Hemispherecentric.

What about "per bandicoot"? Or "per kiwi"? Or "per emperor penguin" (doesn't get much further south than that)? Or for our South American brethren and ... erm, sistren, "per armadillo"? And let's not forget Africa -- perhaps "per meercat"?

Animals of the Southern Hemisphere unite!

You know, I can really see this taking off ... like the Hindenberg.

"Oh, the humanity!"

"per tigersnake?"
"per treekangaroo?"

my personal favourite: "per bunyip?" :D

And it wont take off like the hindenberg.... more like the Space Shuttle Challenger.

I like to drive at 75 badgers per bandicoot, but only when I'm drunk.

For historical accuracy's sake: the Hindenberg crashed at landing, not at take off. The reason was that its hydrogen got mixed with five Lochoums per Tasmanian Devil of oxygen. And the cause of that was that Laemkral thought it appropriate to "purify" some poor sod on board, in a non-smoking area with a weird sign whining about danger for explosions and some other trivial things.

For hysterical accuracy's sake: JUMP! JUMP! CAN'T YOU SEE YOU'RE ON FIRE?

(The poor sod had it coming though, can't really blame Laemkral for that. It's a dirty job and someone's got to do it--and it'd better be Laemkral than me.)

The whole Hindenberg "crash" thing and "the humanity of it all" was a fake story planted by the secretive International Bunyip conspiracy. The true story is just now coming out. It seems that the Nazis were use the zepplin for overflights of Czechoslovakia to spy on certain software writers whose ultra-secret book filing program would give the British an enormous military advantage in the delicate balance of power in Europe. Laemkral then declared the Hindenberg to be a heretical because it was "this huge phallus floating in the air" and that he was jealous and/or bored. The stake he burned it at just happened to look like the landing mast in New Jersey. It is no coincidence that Hitler annexed the Sudatenland and then all of Czechoslovakia after the loss of the Hindenberg. Fortunately for us, heroic software coders dictated their critical program to their pet platypus before hanging themselves with their own spinal cords as the German Army approached. After the platypus escaped back to Australia, the Allies proceeded to victory on the strength of their outstandingly organized personal libraries.

Now that you know the truth, I'm afraid I'll have to kill you all. Please drink this glass of delicious Kool-aid.

badger

...at least until www.kookaburrakookaburrakookaburra.com is finished

all your base

It's spelled "Hindenburg" by the way. For those of us who want to recollect this fantastic vacation memory of past (and passed) travelers (read: for the ignorant bastards amongst us), click on the link below.

That is totally untrue...wait...the Hindenburg you say??? Oh yes!!! That little adventure turned out to a most exciting one. See, one of my assistants at the time, Scribe Markus, decided to stroll around the cabin when he perchanced upon a pretty German Fraülein whom he at once became love-struck by. Following my encouraging remarks that I'm sure she was into older balding men located in positions of authority and power, he approached her. Well, let's just say I wasn't aware at the time of her nature. Apparently, she already had a boyfriend back in Berlin but was travelling with her family before she took a new job with the Nazi party.
I was right however, Markus and the fraülein had much fun. Then we arrived at our destination and Markus (drunken on pleasure and far too much beer) fired off his flamethrower in joy, incinerating a fellow passenger who then ran screaming about until he exploded. Turns out he was a sorceror in disguise, so one point to Markus. However, this was when it all went horribly horribly wrong. Apparently, I then tripped and fell out, my entourage followed, and the last man out lit the thing ablaze.

So there you have it, the reason I burned the Hindenburg into oblivion. Never convince Markus to let go of the woman though, even after we found heretical marks upon her. Poor man...

Well, enough of that. Who's up for a trip to the donut shop? I'm sure we won't find anything to burn there!

I have a big blimp.

So you went to the donut shop? I guess "RK" is just the pseudonym you went by?

http://archive.dumpshock.com/CLUE/ShowCLUE.php3?page=casefile16.htm

I like it Long Dong... all though it is more of a water-bomb sized balloon, not a blimp. Sorry mate- i had to tell you.

Firstly, I have floating skulls with me, not a flattened cat and a rubber chicken. Also, I bring with me an entourage of various persons best suited to the work at hand. And unlike RK, I don't have to worry about law enforcement. However, his immeadiate hiring and placement into my retinue has nothing to do with his work at the donut shop. Which was quite beautiful, though he didn't chant holy prayers and litanies while burning everything in sight. I mean, you gotta have the chanting of prayers and litanies, that's what makes a Witch hunter what he is! A psychopathic pyromaniac with a Salem-complex.
Which by the way, I'm not.

On a completely unconnected matter, anyone want some huma-I mean beef jerky?

Hey, wing some o' that "special" jerky over hear. We're runnin' low on Aunt Margaret and Uncle Jed is just too tough yet. We're havin' cousin Charley over fer dinner tommorrow. Won't you join us, too, Mr. Laemkral? You look quite plump and juicy. Slow roasin' over a medium fire would do your legs a world o' good.

Sigh.

no naff wares in over a week ?
what gives ??