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The self-referential haikus about Mandelbrot

  • The self-referential haikus about Mandelbrot sets notwithstanding, Ike's ego was insufferable. His mother often told him
  • to go in the kitchen and make himself a dang quesadilla. It was Ike's father who was to blame for his bloated sense of self worth and odd hobbies. The worst poem Ike ever wrote
  • to Tina was, "My Shoe, is sad, My Shoe, is sorry that you had to keep running your mouth." Ike had left it to Tina to make up for her being bad, so Tina wrote Ike a poem which
  • went like this: "Because I'm Bad, I'm Bad-Come On Bad Bad-Really, Really Bad You Know I'm Bad, get on me! come on!". Ike said, "That's really original Tini-Baby. What's Bad gotta
  • do with it?" Tina turned away from Ike with disgust. Meanwhile, Jackson got the whole conversation on tape. "First, McCartney and now this!" Dollar signs lit in his eyes. Bad would
  • not even begin to describe the morality of what I was about to do. I mailed the tape to Ike, with a note. On the note I had scribbled, "You know what I want. I have copies."
  • "I want more copies." Eisenhower merely rolled his eyes, grumbled, and gave a kind of signal to his presidential henchmen to send me yet more copies of
  • the Mike and Ikes secret recipe. "Argh, I forgot sugar and corn syrup," I realized as I looked down at my blobs of food coloring. "And what's food starch?" My amateur candy making
  • had filled the room with an oppressive, sickly sweet air and crystals of burnt sugar had surfaced. I laughed and held the pan over a compost bin, the thick syrup stretching
  • not unlike a mucus from ones nose on a particularly moist day. My giggles ended and I dropped the pan. It hit the compost bin with a "SPLOSH" I'll never forget. It was over. I won.

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