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| Puzzles and Games :: Which is Funnier |
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Which city is funnier: Racine or Oshkosh?
Clue: This is according to comedy t.v. writer Jerry Rannow
Answer: Oshkosh (The answer is in black text on the black background. Highlight it to view.)
Citation: Jerry Rannow, Writing Television Comedy (2004), p. 87.
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Referring to our bookcase arranged by spine color, the Serif of Nottingblog wrote: "What you've done privileges the unexpected connections between books, between subjects. Despite your blog being 'Abecedarian,' your book organization realizes that knowledge can be organized or accessed via a totally different set of assumptions."
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Did you know: "It is not possible to burn a candle at both ends. If one end of the wick is ignited, the other end will immediately be extinguished." Or: "Cardboard is nothing more than wood in an early stage of development." Or: "Cheese never spoils; it simply changes into a different kind of cheese." These and other hilarious facts are part of Dr. Boli's Encyclopedia of Misinformation.
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Certainty #25: "The only reality I can possibly know is the world as I perceive and experience it at this moment. The only reality you can possibly know is the world as You perceive and experience it at this moment. And the only certainty is that those perceived realities are different. There are as many 'real worlds' as there are people!" —Carl Rogers, qtd. in Power Partnering by Sean Gadman, 1996 --- Jeff observes: This may be the root of human conflict. The perception is the reality, but everything we think we understand about others is only in terms of what we know about ourselves, which is by no means certain.
It is to hoot.
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The sheep coughed in the rough, sere grass of the park, where frost lay bluish in the sockets of the tufts. Across the park ran a path to the wood- gate, a fine ribbon of pink. —D.H. Lawrence, Lady Chatterley's Lover, 1928.
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Saint Garrison Patron of Backpack Guarding.
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Toward the end of the afternoon, a mauve mist veils the avenues so that you do not know where they end, and the unexpected discovery of a wild hyacinth, with its three slender bells of artless blue swaying in the wind, has all the charm of a stolen joy. —Collette, The Vagabond; translated by Enid McLeod, 1955.
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"I write so as not to be written. For many years I was written in my life, I acted out a story. I suppose I write in order to write others, to operate on the imagination, the revelation, the knowledge of others." —Fogwill, qtd. in Bartleby & Co. by Enrique Vila-Matas (an author well-worth investigating!) --- Jeff writes: "I write so as not to be written." Only eight words, yet they so fluently describe the root of life's discontent: a part in an obtuse play written for sitcom audiences and household pets. No offense intended toward the pets.
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From Prof. Oddfellow's sketchbook:
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Original Content Copyright © 2026 by Craig Conley. All rights reserved.
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