J. ZZ Top? She's got legs meets 99 problems

J. ZZ Top? She's got legs meets 99 problems

Those two things go together like basketball fans and whining about officiating...Garrett turned of the TV. "World's Worst Metaphors" just wasn't very good tonight. He opened a bot

anical guide to the nightshades. Who was he going to poison tonight? He decided to go to the Cosmo a bar at the top of one of the skyscrapers downtown and look for victims.

Sadly for him, but lucky for his victims, the Cosmo had a strict dress code and a "no creeps" policy (inconsistently enforced). Grumbling, he went back to his garden to contemplate

why fish never seemed to blink. Sure they live in water, but what if a chunk of sand gets stuck? Absentmindedly, he withdrew his hunting knife and began

to pick his teeth. Late at night, he would read to himself from the NJ Phone Book to keep his mind active. It was many miles from the Yukon to Trenton. He wished to visit one day.

To add to the challenge, he would add up all the phonenumbers on a page until he reached the magic number three. 'Yes it is, it's a magic number. Somewhere in the ancient, mystic

numbernomicon, the letter '3' has long been ordained as an unholy ward. It defies even divisibility into 10." He said this all to himself, then let loose a wicked "Wah ha ha!?"

Then, rationalizing as any insane person would, he pulled out his bejeweled sword and sliced himself into three parts. "United I stood, divided I unite!" A bewildered look crossed