Nov 16 2005


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“Well, no, it makes perfect sense in context,” said Greg.

“It does?” Brigid asked, staring at the title of the text on his screen in mild confusion.

“Well, yes. You see, I was driving along behind this guy in traffic, who had a variety of political bumper stickers all over his car. There was a Kerry/Edwards sticker, and one rather smug one to the effect that anybody who claimed to be a conservative couldn’t possibly have feelings of any kind, and another that essentially espoused peace, love, and viciously beating republicans about the face and neck. But for all his vaunted touchy-feely social awareness, he was a vicious brute behind the wheel: constantly honking, tailgaiting, double-dipping at stopsigns, cutting people off, and so on.”

Brigid nodded. “Okay,” she said. “And…?”

“Well, as I was driving along behind this hazard to life and limb, an advertisement came on the radio for an opthamologist by the unfortunate name of ‘Doctor Clench.'” Brigid giggled momentarily at that, and Greg continued, “So I had this vision, you see…” He suddenly screwed up his face in a contortion of effort, and said, “HELLO! I am DR. CLENCH, and I’m going to be WORKING ON YOUR EYE if that’s ALL RIGHT WITH — *urk* — YOU!” Then, rapidly shifting into an exaggerated vision of anger, shouted in reply, “KEEP AWAY FROM MY EYES, YOU JACKASS!!!”

Brigid buried her face into the palm of her hand. “So that’s where you got the title, ‘The Adventures of Doctor Clench and the Road-Rage Liberal,'” she said.

“Well,” said Greg, “at least it’s unique.”

-The Gneech

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