Time to Roll Up Our Sleeves

Okay, now roll them down. Now back up again. . . . Now: down, quick!

You should have become rich years ago—it's so much fun! You just can't go wrong! You can have the brains of a flying squirrel and come out on top, like the airline industry that lobbied for years against tightened airport security and got a multibillion-dollar bailout as a result of that lax security. Wheee! Look up in the air! It's Lockheed and Bullwinkle!

Got anthrax? No problemo. According to the Daily Pilot, local health officials say to act calmly and proceed in a logical manner if you think you've been infected:

"Baby, I've got anthrax. Can you call the Arches and tell them we'll be a little late on our 8 p.m. reservation? It was at the office. If it wasn't bothersome enough that these mosque-makers were leaving this dratted anthrax lying about, they've started leaving it out in these big, fat rails. Yes, that's what I thought, too, darling, and now look at me: as infected as a Guernsey cow. I've got to pop by Hoag. Can you ring our broker and tell him to buy more Bayer stock? I can suffer through this infernal nuisance much easier knowing that our government is protecting Bayer's right to sell a month's supply for $350 while other nations protect their people with a $10 generic. Isn't freedom great? I'm getting all choked up just thinking about it, unless that's the anthrax kicking in. Ciao, baby."

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