For me, this always has been the perfect X-Day anthem:
"I don't ask for much, I just want a smooth flight!"
Glorious news from me, your humbly astounding Boonie Ghoul. I am thoroughly. Moved away from the shitstorm that was Joe and the Britch, and into my new lair, which I have named Ghoul's Lair Clarendon. Like Henry Higgins, I am a quiet living weirdo who prefers to spend the evening in the quiet of his room, and likes an atmosphere as restful as an undiscovered tomb. I have it. Now, comes the sabbatical wherein I clear all thoughts of the Britch from my mind. By "Bob"'s sweet pipe, I am free.
In 2085, armored warfare is faster and deadlier than ever. Hovercraft, tanks, and infantry slug it out with tactical nukes. But the most feared weapon of all needs no human guidance. It's a giant cybernetic tank bristling with guns and missiles. It's the Ogre.
I somehow don't think so.
"Coelacanth flesh is full of urea, which is a nitrogen-based compound that your kidneys cleanse from your blood and you then excrete in your pee. So it’s kind of like eating greasy urine-flesh. But it’s also full of wax esters, which are molecules of indigestible junk that your body will probably discharge in a flood of unstoppable oily diarrhea."
Particularly "Sub" SubGenius, Discordian, Zen Buddhist with Wiccan sympathies and all-around normal-weird guy
Church of the SubGenius Members-Only MastoDobbs.