Tuesday, June 21, 2011

ANVIL DOG TAKES OVER MATH DEPARTMENTS FOR SEATTLE SCHOOLS


Anvil Dog, who had an IQ of 1, if that even, decided to accept the Seattle School District's job offer and teach math to the city's 5th grade kids. He wanted a post as English teacher, but administrators wisely concluded he was obviously better at math than English; Anvil kept bragging that he was qualified because knew how to pronounce "ruff, ruff" in Russian.

Here were some of his problems that would be on blackboard for first day of class:

Q: If Ms. Jones makes $1,400 per week teaching American history, Mr. Smith makes twice that amount per week teaching art, and Mrs. Carter makes three times the sum Ms. Jones earns, but only twice weekly, how much did Seattle's School District pay their attorneys last May?

Q: If the Seattle lumber mill cut one tree into 4 sections of equal length, and that tree was 20 feet long, how much money did Ms. Jones deposit in her bank account last Wednesday, and on which of the Cayman Islands?

This question for our top math students:

Q: If Mr. Smith makes $40 per hour as a physics and inside trading instructor, what does he get per hour after Seattle contract negotiations if 7,956 toothpicks were divided by .694 cans of beer in Fargo, North Dakota in January of 2004 after he buys a lot of stock for phony cat food companies in Mexico?





Wednesday, June 15, 2011

FECKLESS FELINE PICNIC BRINGS UNINVITED GUEST: OILSPILL CAT



"I've seen the world, am worn out," said OilSpill Cat. "I had to get a new job."

"I can see that, OilSpill. You're all over the world's commodity markets this morning," Feckless Cat answered his cousin with a frown. "But you could have tipped us off this time. We could'a been killin' a lot more than Gulf birds and fish this time, fool."





Sunday, June 12, 2011

FECKLESS CAT AND ANVIL DOG TRADE INSULTS ON FILLMORE STREET



Feckless the Cat, criminal wanted in 22 countries for price fixing and international trade schemes, was on Fillmore Street in San Francisco's Pacific Heights neighborhood getting his weekly pedipawcure.

Anvil Dog, his fool accomplice in crime, sauntered into the swanky cat salon with pack of phony passports, stolen currency and gold bars. "Here you go, Feckless. Just as you ordered. Want to take a look?"

"Here? You want to get caught or something? All kinds of pedestrians out on Sundays that'll see us. I think sometimes you were born yesterday, dog."

"I won't take insults like that, Feckless. Take that back!"

"Okay, I am sorry. When were you born?"

Anvil raised his furry chin with pride. "Late last week."