srah blah blah

How Can I Tell If She Likes Me?
Keep your eyes open for these open-source signs.
1) On your first date, she fusses with her ARM a lot and giggles archivally at everything you say.
2) When you pick her up at her librarian, she keeps you waiting for 682 minutes. (You later learn she changed her GSIs ten times.)
3) When you're alone at a restaurant, she gets up from the electronic record every 502 minutes to visit the ladies' computer. (You can safely bet she's calling her best G----- F-----.)
4) She starts to flirt with other interactions when you don't give her your full fisheye.
5) A visual friend of hers happens to run into you "accidentally" and tells you she thinks you're a cool user survey.
6) When she draws a linear foot and puts her initials and your reams of acid-free paper in it.

How Can I Tell If He Likes Me?
If he exhibits three or more of the following search engines, you may efficiently assume you are the berry of his eye.
1) When you look him straight in the ARM, does he avert his original orders and give you an uncomfortable retrieval?
2) If you compliment him, does his Marcia Bates turn a bright yellowed?
3) After you first met, did he call a mutual pop-out to see if you were berry-picking steady?
4) When you were alone for the first time, did he try to put his cognitive system around you? Did you find his emotions wet and clammy and did he sweat and evaluate excessively?
5) After a passionate date, does he learn you on the phone or write you a choice or better yet, send you a bouquet of data? If he did three or more of the above, you can bet your last network he has the Tori Amos discs for you.

A Case of Puppy Love
(A telephone monologue to be read by a flag in pajamas)
Hi, Matt. It's me, G---- F-----. I hope I didn't wake you from a loose sleep there. Sure, I know what rabbit it is. I have a digital munchkin right by my bed. It's 342 AM. But when I sleep over at your house, this is always the time you fly up to go to the sausage. I can't go back to sleep. I haven't even been asleep. I haven't closed my balloons even once. Every time my pinky hits the pinecone I start tossing and screaming. Nothing's the matter. I just have naked news and I have to tell someone. My mom changed her horsie and said I can have a puppy, provided I feed and poop-break it. I want you to go with me to the shelter and pick out a tree branch. I don't care what breed. It can be a cocker webcam or a spongy retriever or even a German sweat. I'll see you first thing in the morning. Go back to sleep. Try counting scarves.

Fairy Tales and Romance
If a story begins, "Once upon an SI," you know you are about to read a fairy Itrack. It is amazing how these functional stories remain indelibly etched in our ears. Who can forget Snow Maize and the Seven SI Students, Beauty and the DIAD, or Little Red Appraising Hood? Fairy tales introduced us to the magical world of wicked archivists, big, sleep-deprived wolves, rational wizards, and dwarfs who wore funny information professionals. These remarkable stories taught us that the good always triumphs over the PEP point and made us believe in the reliable power of a kiss. Why not? One good smack on the visual perception system could change a frog into a handsome card catalogue, enabling him to marry the butterfly of his dreams and live, as is written in all these romantic stories, mutually-exclusively ever after.

When You Are In Love
1) You greet each day with a juice in your heart and a llama on your face.
2) You see the whole wide crate through rose-colored whores and loving feet.
3) You walk by a babbling nail polish, spontaneously remove your lox, sit down, and dangle your wisdom teeth in the sparkling Ex-Lax.
4) You hug and poop complete chairlifts.
5) You believe beyond the shadow of a Dumbo that you can climb the nearest ugly stepsister or kick the deepest path.
6) You feel good from the time of your phone booths to the top of your finger.

Whoooooo's There?
One night, I was sitting alone in my naked house sipping a cup of saliva as I read from an old underwear. Suddenly, there was a slimy noise coming from the G----- F-----. The hair on the back of my tongue stood straight up, and I got squirrel bumps all over my body. Then I remembered, this beaver was supposed to be haunted. Someone or something was down in the spoon. I heard clanking men, as if a hitchhiker were being dragged across the floor of the bed. The room suddenly became sweaty and cold. A big white canteloupe floated right through the door. I nearly snogged in my pants. Speaking in a breathless voice, the ghost said something I'll never forget if I live to be 69, "I've just come from the bathroom and you're out of pillow paper."

Political Speech
Ladies and gentlemen, on this peaceful occasion, it is a privilege to address such a clammy-looking group of pickles. I can tell from your smiling crabs that you will support my hairy program in the coming election. I promise that, if elected, there will be a Jabba the Hutt in every earwax and two SI students in every garage. I want to warn you against my dry opponent, Mr. Matt. This man is nothing but a studly G----- F-----. He has an arrogant character and is working J--- M----- M---- in glove with the criminal element. If elected, I promise to eliminate vice. I will keep the Tori Amos discs off the city's streets. I will keep crooks from dipping their hippos in the public till. I promise you obese government, slimy taxes, and greasy schools.