This very morning I intended to send a message to my aunt Gondwania, who settled in the Far West, when I noticed to my dismay that my long-beloved pigeon Anastasius had died. I resolved to ride my mule to the the nearest Post Office, 27 miles away from my Village, to make use of their Telephone Service. The office was renowned among our Fathers, who have been calling on it regularly every 12 years or the like. To my dismay, the building that used to host such Office had been sold to the company Internet Cafe, whose staff kindly guided me to the present Answers Service. I must confess that I have yet to get the feel for the machine standing in front of me. In fact, numerous animated protographs accumulate on this panel, preventing me from seeing the words that I am typing, and alluring me into selecting one of several less-then-modest females surrounded by the above-mentioned acronym (so it appears to me). I call on you, Answer Service, for advice on this arduous dilemma. Thank you.
2006-09-27
01:54:18
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9 answers
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asked by
jarynth3
1