"...who counts the normal way...."

"...who counts the normal way...."

Amos, Amos, Amos. This is MOAB. There is nothing "normal" here. There is no one "normal" here. Both SRS and CarolC know that. Were you to "count in the normal way" you'd scare both of them off or to death, whichever came first.

And who are you -- or I -- to say what is "normal"? "Normal" to my computer is couting in binary. "Normal" to my nephew Tony (as distinct from my brother Tony) is in base 17 or something -- we had to give the kid a binary CLOCK, fergawdssake, so he could tell time! "Normal" to the old time Mespotanians or someones was in base 60. "Normal" stifles creativity. "Normal" will turn you into an old, old fogey instead of just the old fogey you are (and even though I am older than you, I am living backwards -- being in Idaho and all -- and so I'm a young old fogey). "Normal" will destroy your sense of uniqueness and hence your self-esteem. That will mean that you will start hanging out in biker bars and jails. As them bikers (and by "bikers" I mean motorcyclists who wear leather jackets with flaming skulls or such painted on them) get their kicks kicking the crap out of your bleeding, broken body your self-esteem will plummet like a rock in a dry oil well. You'll drag your poor, abused body over to your Mercedes while the bikers laugh at you. Your self-esteem now all really shot to hell, you'll grab the AK-47 out of the backseat, click 'er around to rock-n-roll, and blast the hell out of the biker bar and the folks in it. The police will come. You'll be arrested. But since your self-esteem is by now nonexistent, you'll be sent to the Mens Sanus Hospital For Terminally Low Self-Esteem And Abnormal Persons, where you'll spend your days on Thorazine and Ritalin and you nights in ECT-induced comas. Eventually, it'll all be over and you'll be released from your painful and miserable existence and you'll find both peace and yourself living in The Canyon amidst movie stars, the terminally shallow, and the glitterstruck. All because you thought that there was something "normal" about MOAB.

Howdy, Bobert. Welcome. The fatted calf is kilt, and it was danged hard to git that li'l ol' Scottish dress on it, too. You let me know if someone tries to kick you in the nuts and I'll have the Idaho Legion take care of them. Them Legion boys 'n' girls have been wantin' to do a good nut stompin' for some time, but only to folks who deserve it and you ain't one of them. Anybody livin' in West VA has been stomped and kicked enough.