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Underwear is not outerwear

If we're going to be that lazy about processing stuff, let's see those genius geneticists get cracking on shell-less eggs, scaleless fish, huskless corn, podless peas, rind-free oranges, pre-ground beef cattle and, while we're at it, poopless pets.

By DON ADDIS, Times Staff Writer
© St. Petersburg Times
published August 11, 2002

I commented in a recent column about an elementary school somewhere that strip-searched several students while searching for some allegedly stolen money.

I believe that school's faulty faculty has been out-goofed, however, by a vice principal out in San Diego who -- it says here -- required some high school girls to prove they were not wearing thong underwear to a costume-party dance. They had to hoist their dresses in front of the whole bloomin' regiment, so the story goes, and boys were required to hike their togas to prove they were wearing any drawers at all.

Someone explain this to me. If they had just left everybody's overwear unhoisted, what difference would it make what kind of underwear they wore? Nobody would see. Nothing would show. Nobody would know. Be it no underwear at all, long johns, sequined G-strings, Bavarian lederhosen, Pampers, Depends or Tony Galento's old boxing trunks -- so what?! The matter only came up when the skirts came up.

The school district expressed concern over ensuring "appropriate student dress before entering a high school dance." Maybe they should have held some concern over the appropriate way to do the ensuring. It was the faculty, after all, that turned it from a school dance to a strip show.

-- Did you read about the Israeli genetics professor who has come up with featherless chickens, supposedly to spare everybody the trouble of plucking them? The pitiable poultry would suffer in cold weather and be susceptible to sunburn, but what do we care? They're only chickens. (And what are we now supposed to stuff our pillows with? Hanging chads?)

A chicken has its pride, ya know. We've all seen that roosters and such are especially proud of their lustrous plumage. Imagine how they'd feel with no plumage at all -- naked as a plucked chicken and hardly (or should I say barely?) able to impress the hens.

A friend of mine who keeps macaws told me that some neurotic captive parrots tend to pluck their own chest feathers until they're too far gone to grow back. Has anyone explored that route? What do you get when you cross a chicken with a nervous parrot? A featherless chicken that complains about it.

If we're going to be that lazy about processing stuff, let's see those genius geneticists get cracking on shell-less eggs, scaleless fish, huskless corn, podless peas, rind-free oranges, pre-ground beef cattle and, while we're at it, poopless pets.

-- Tell it to the starving people in Africa, or, You call that living? New scientific findings indicate that the key to longevity is severely restricted calorie intake. The fewer calories, the longer the life. Problem is, the scientists admit, you'll be awfully thin and painfully hungry all your extended life. So what are you living for? Even if you don't live to be 120, it will seem that long. Strikes me as just another one of those fad diets that will keep you alive if it doesn't kill you first.

-- Underheard: "If Leonardo da Vinci had had Mylar, aluminum and duct tape, we would have had manned flight in the 16th century."

-- Says here that JetBlue, the airline, plans to install eight punching bags at its JFK terminal, so passengers can take out their airside frustrations. That's their idea of a solution? Wouldn't you think they'd give some attention to the things that cause the frustrations? If they really want to help customers blow off steam, let 'em slug some of those stuffed shirts behind the counter.

-- A friend here at the office gave me a copy of the Bumfuzzled Too 2002 Calendar, put out by cowboy/rodeo man R. Lewis Bowman and chock full of Western wisdom, Southwest sayings, tumbleweed truisms and Arizona adages. They're not all new, I'm sure, and some read suspiciously like fortune cookies. But I still gotta share some of them with you:

-- The mailman bringeth, the trashman taketh away.

-- Those who throw mud lose ground.

-- Experience is the hardest kind of teacher. It gives you the test first and the lesson afterwards.

-- Findin' a mate for marriage is like parking a car. The good spots are all taken and the others are handicapped.

-- The only thing slower than the play of too many golfers is a Southwestern funeral procession with only one set of jumper cables.

-- The more ideas ya have the more wastebasket ya need.

-- If God wanted me to touch my toes he would have put them on my knees.

-- If the feller near you doesn't have a smile, give him yours.

-- When you get it all together, remember where you put it.

-- There never was a good knife made of bad steel.

-- Those with clenched fists can't shake hands.

-- A man wrapped up in himself sure makes a small package.

-- The trouble with a feller who talks too fast is he often says something he hasn't thought of yet.

-- A goal is a dream with a deadline.

-- When all is said and done, there's more said than done.

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