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Authors: Paul Davidson

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Ceramic gold-plated sanitary sitting facility

My hope, of course, is that one of these very descriptive and honourable names will both describe the technology and honour
yours truly as the dignified Crapper that I am… Doing my part in bringing comfort, safety and a solitude to those looking
for the kind of experience that only a true Crapper can know.

Pictures
of Sandringham House

Pictures
of “My Ballcock”

Pictures
of a Crapper, doing what he does best

E-mail me at
[email protected]
.

From:
http://www.robertfrost.com/blog/

Subject:
From New Hampshire to New York

As I previously mentioned, I felt it necessary to take a trip for the soul this week. A journey from my home in New Hampshire
to New York. Of course, the originating locale and the destination were never the important elements of such a journey—it’s
what’s in between that matters.

Of course, without the luck of the Irish, I found myself halfway through my journey in a wooded place when a tire burst loudly
and stranded me (a stranger in a strange land) with no map, no directions, and a winding road becoming two. My direction,
of course, was as lost to me as I was lost myself.

One, it seemed, had been traveled on repeatedly. It was worn and weathered, traveled upon constantly on a daily basis, while
another was overgrown, obviously avoided by many. With a flat tire and night rapidly approaching, I did what any sane man
would do. I headed down the pathway, tire in hand, that was obviously traveled upon most frequently.

About three miles ahead, I found a gas station attendant who repaired my tire and gave me a ride back to my car where he assisted
me in affixing the tire back onto the vehicle.

It was, to say the least, the best decision of my entire life.

Now, back here in my study in beautiful and lush Franconia, I find myself searching for the rhythm and prose for my next poetic
work. If only there was something in a flat tire and a walk to an out-of-the-way gas station… well, if only! Passion and
creativity, it seems, do not come when you call it. You must wait for inspiration and be surprised by it… I guess, just as
a flat tire rears its ugly head as well.

In the meantime, I would like to introduce a brand-new feature on my blog called
You Give Me a Dollar and I Write You a Poem with Your Name in It!
What better way to surprise your family or friends than a poem written about them, with their name included inside? Well,
far better than a tie or a doll, I can tell you that.

This week only, if you enter this
code
while ordering, you’ll be able to get three poems featuring someone’s name for the price of two. That’s a 33% discount!

Click
here
for ordering information.

Click
here
for sample poems.

Click
here
to e-mail Robert Frost.

From:
http://www.arthurconandoyle.com/blog/

Subject:
The Case of the Missing Post

The night is the darkest right at this moment, as I fill in this page with words that were once not needed… eclipsed by a
post both ingenious and mysterious. A post filled with action, intrigue and drama. A post that, with an accidental flip of
a button, went missing from wherest it once was. Such a post, one I crafted for hours, has now gone accidentally missing.

You can imagine my chagrin as the events unfolded. Quietly crafting, word by word, extremely pleased with the outcome and
ready to send to the world when, all at once, the light went dark and the world on the page went missing completely.

My dear readers—you must know that at first I deduced that such an accidental happening was not the result of pure chance
but one which was motivated by others who are less than pleased with my own success. I traipsed out into the darkness, finding
none other than footprints measured in the snow. Such footprints led away from an electrical box beside my home to the road
that stood 100 meters away. The shoe prints moved steadily and quickly, as the impression in the snow was still crisp and
clean with no sign of melting or destruction. My observation seemed astute until I came face-to-face with my neighbour who
had also been searching for the reason behind such an electrical mystery.

So, then, what was the cause of the missing post? For what reason would a document I had created suddenly disappear to origins
unknown? I searched high and low around my sitting area—tracing the cord of the device down to the floor. The wood panels,
aged from the years, had a dusty film upon them. Although, upon further investigation, it was apparent that such dust had
shaken from the sides of my socks—sitting in shoes that had seen the outdoors.

And so I looked even further below my space—crawling in a place that my body was never meant to be. My deduction about foul
play may be correct, I recall thinking to myself as I dug deeper, further into the darkness beneath my sitting area in an
attempt to solve this mysterious case of the missing post.

And then, almost immediately, the mystery was solved! There, unplugged and lying dormant on the wood-paneled floor, was none
other than the plug to my device. My foot it seems had pulled the device’s power on its own accord, replacing any suspicion
of foul play with the common solution in its place—pure human error.

Just know that whatever post was once here—it would have entertained you to the fullest. A short story of intrigue, mystery
and malcontents. But alas, maybe this one will far surpass, seeing as though a mystery emerged and was solved right before
your very own eyes! My breath, as much as yours, has most probably been taken away!

-CD

From:
http://www.samson.com/hairblog/

Subject:
Another Inch in Gaza

Some of you may already have received the “Official Samson Hair Status Subscription List” (you can subscribe
here
if not); then you are all well aware that my hair has grown another inch longer and I am feeling stronger than ever before.
The
Samson Hair Length Photo Gallery
is now open for your perusal.

If you do not have the technology to view such pictures, let me take a moment to describe to you how my strength-filled hair
now appears to a stranger who might glance upon it while walking down the street.

Imagine this—if you were to walk behind me, you would see my luscious locks hang effortlessly down to the edge of my neck
where it meets my shoulders, then fall and lie over the tops of my shoulder muscles. Really, it’s a sight to behold that you
may want to see in person. I’m in Gaza right now, in case you are too.

Speaking of Gaza, it appears as if another woman has fallen in love with yours truly and his hair. Her name is Delilah, and
I must say that this beauty has also found her way into my heart. We have spent some time together, but last night she appeared
to be out of her element. She wrestled me to the ground, pinning my arms at the floor (which I could have broken out of thanks
to the strength my hair gives me, but which I chose not to use at that moment because I was enjoying the interplay) and demanded
to know the origin of my strength.

As you very well know, I try not to tell people that I’m strong because of my hair, because once you tell someone that—well,
first they think you should probably be named a heretic and, second of all, they’ll probably want to shave off your hair.
(I mean, who doesn’t want to own the hair that makes someone so exceptionally strong?! If I didn’t own my own hair I would
want to own my own hair if it was someone else’s hair that they themselves owned.)

So, I told Delilah that my strength came from lifting heavy rocks and stones. Which she didn’t believe. Then I told her that
I was strong, just as my father was strong. And then I told her that it was the result of an angel’s prophecy.

That Delilah is a pretty persuasive woman.

In the end, I told her the truth and let her in on the secret that the true strength I possess actually comes from my glorious
locks of hair. And that without them, I am nothing. But since I trust her (she seems very honest), at least I know she won’t
tell anyone and that my secret is safe with her.

Besides, she said she promised not to tell a soul.

From:
http://www.jimjones.com/blog/

Subject:
Kool-Aid or Hawaiian Punch?

I can’t quite decide which one I like better.

If you were planning a big ol’ party with lots of friends, family members and relatives and you had to choose a particular
punch because you were going to make that the center of the entire party/buffet—which one do you think would be more appealing?

Personally, I think Kool-Aid is the way to go. Kool-Aid seems to have a cheerier, happier mascot—the big happy glass bowl
of Kool-Aid who comes crashing through people’s walls screaming “
Oh yeah!
” Now, let’s turn our attention toward Hawaiian Punch—their mascot is a strange-looking short individual who wears an awfully
obscure hat on his head. As an adult or a child, I think I would personally much prefer the happy, energetic mascot used in
the Kool-Aid ads to the creepy, short eerie-looking man.

But then again, people flock to Hawaii in the wintertime. Just thinking about the beaches and the waves of the Hawaiian coast
puts me in a comfortable lull. It’s paradise, Hawaii—all of the islands instill a calming effect in those who visit. So, perhaps
in thinking about this new tidbit of information, Hawaiian Punch might be the better choice.

For example, if I were to turn to you and say, “
Would you like a glass of refreshing Kool-Aid, the drink whose mascot is a funny, happy little wall-crashing smiling jar of
juice?
” or, “
Would you like a glass of paradise-like Hawaiian punch—the kind you’d probably end up drinking on a beautiful beach on the
island of Maui?
” which question would urge you to swallow the liquid?

Now that I’m really thinking about it, I am starting to believe that Hawaiian Punch may be the way to go.

Then again, maybe the name recognition makes it seem as if I’m trying too hard to get people to drink the punch. Maybe if
I were to simply pick up punch that wasn’t well known, or make my own punch with fruit and juices straight off the vine—maybe
that would seem more realistic. Maybe then, if I were to say, “
Would you like a glass of this wonderful punch which I have made from scratch from a variety of fruits I picked myself off
the vine?
”… Maybe that would be the most realistic scenario.

Then again, I often don’t eat or drink things that people make themselves because they’re never really as good as the kind
of fare you’d buy in a restaurant or in a grocery store.

Hmm. This is really a tough decision.

Kool-Aid or Hawaiian Punch? Be sure to send me your thoughts
here
. I look forward to hearing what you have to say in this important matter!

From:
http://www.raykroc.com/mcblog/

Subject:
Welcome to Ray Kroc’s McBlog

The day has finally come!

I know we’ve been talking about this day for a while now and I am finally proud to announce that what you’re reading here
is the first official blog entry for the McBlog—a groundbreaking new addition to the McDonald’s family that came out of a
minor event in the Kroc family.

I was sitting with my children and we had just come back from a wonderful meal at our local McDonald’s—we were eating fries
and the wonderful Big Mac and a yummy vanilla shake when my son asked, “
Daddy—we can always get what we want, quickly and without wait, when we visit McDonald’s, but how come we can’t get the same
quick, high-quality service when reading blogs?

And the McBlog was born.

From here on forward, the Ray Kroc McBlog will serve America’s blogging needs twenty-four hours a day, three hundred and sixty-five
days a year with blog posts that you want, when you want them, for a relatively low low price. Here’s how it works:

Step #1:
Feeling an urge to read a blog post? Login to the McBlog!

Step #2:
From a pulldown menu, choose the subject matter you’d like to read about. Everything from humor, politics, food and games
to pictures, music and the famous McDonald’s characters themselves!

Step #3:
Pay a small nominal fee, depending on your choice. Please note, on some days you’ll be able to get two blog posts for the
price of one… Other times you may be able to
expand
your blog post—instead of a 300-word post, you can turn it into a 500-word post for just 45 cents more!!

Step #4:
Read your blog post until you’re finished, at which point it will disappear. But if minutes later you’re still feeling that
desire for even more, we’ll be here to serve you up another and another and another. There’s no cap on how many you can read.
It gets addicting, I know! When you stop is fully up to you!

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