|Special Needs||Interlibrary Loan Access|
Adopted in November 2011
No matter who’s owned me, it’s always been the same thing. Everyone’s always asking me questions. Ridiculous questions. Just yesterday my dove friend calls and says, “Hey Enrico, how many seas would I have to sail before I’ll find a good sandbar to sleep on?” And I’m thinking, “Are you kidding me? What kind of a question is that?” You know he’s not asking his donkey friend this question. Just because I’m an owl! They think I know things! And there’s always this one, “How many licks is it gonna take me to get to the middle of my lollipop?” It’s offensive, really. Not to mention the fact that they ALWAYS neglect to give me size of the tongue involved or the acidity of the licker’s saliva, or the moisture content of the room in which it’s being licked, or the density- or even the size- of the lollipop. I say to them, “I can only give you a rough estimate with the data you’ve provided.”
You give me more, I’ll give you more. Come on, people, what do you expect?