Ask Dr. Crawdad: The Cold War

Questions of Faith

Craypap

(sung to the tune of a certain Southern rouser)

There's a dish I et that can't be forgotten,
Made of them bugs who live in creek mud bottoms.
I'm a fan!
I'm a fan!
I'm a fan, of crawdads, man.
Oh, I wish I had some crawdads,
Hooray! Hooray!
I'd soak them fellers in melted butter,
And swaller em down into my gutters.
Crawdads, man! Crawdads, man! Crawdads, man!
CRAWDADS, MAN!!!
I love to eat them crawdads!

- Bill Prescott

The Feminine Mystique

The mechanics of a woman's world operate under a complex conspiracy of benevolent elves and scheming agnostics out to herd ladybugs and/or hide her toesocks.
- Goethe Fakhan