The Lost Blogs (13 page)

“
Marco!?
”

The voice echoed throughout the night sky—it was, of course. Uncle Maffeo.

I yelled back, “’
Tis I, Polo!
”

“
Marco!?
” the voice came back again, echoing…

“
Polo!
” I yelled. Could he not hear me?

“
Marco!!!
” my uncle yelled again, this time seemingly closer.

“
Here!” I yelled. “Polo!!!
”

The two of us might as well have been in a dark cave or the murky underwater depths of the ocean for that matter—blind to
each other’s face, the simple yelling of our names never close to providing the solution.

This must have gone on until the morning light, when Maffeo asked for assistance in which to navigate the guarded pathways
and finally located me.

It was, to say the least, a less than entertaining event that I would never wish upon any individual, young or old.

From:
http://www.wcfiields.com/blog/

The Official W. C. Fields

Weblog

YOU MUST BE

18 OR OLDER

TO ENTER

ENTER
EXIT

(Seriously, no kids.)

(Not even with your parents’ permission.)

(I mean it.)

From:
http://www.johnhancock.com/blog/

Subject:
Today’s Official Declaration

A milestone in the history of these United States of America… today, as had been planned for some time now, our Declaration
of Independence, drafted and signed by a select group of patriots and statesmen. Yours truly was honored to be among them.

You can’t imagine the feelings of inspiration that floated throughout Independence Hall today, standing beside such friends
and countrymen as Thomas Jefferson (he’s drafted quite a
wonderful poem
on his site from today) and Benjamin Franklin (who has got
pictures
of the event in question up on his weblog).

I must share with you an amusing anecdote from the day’s events, however—as all of us stood toe-to-toe, preparing to ink our
names onto the document in question… Thomas leaned forward and picked up the inkwell and the pen, but when he went to inscribe
his name on the document, he slipped and fell mid-signature! But Thomas, always quite dedicated to the cause at hand, attempted
to finish his name before hitting the ground.

The result—a curved, grandiose signature that was the cause of laughter for the rest of the lively scenario! And as each statesman
reached the table and the document, those who had already signed began to chant, “
Give us your Thomas Jefferson!
” in reference, of course, to his elaborate penned signature!

“
Give us your Thomas Jefferson!
” Even now, it causes me to smile a silly grin—a situational joke that, I’m sure, will stick with these men and History for
years to come.

While the day was a milestone none of us will soon forget, I find my thoughts turning toward my own last name, the cruelty
of children and the phrase “John the cock”—the subject of many years of despair on my part, that even today (after such a
monumentally historic moment) brings chills to my spine. I can only hope, that years from now when fresh eyes gaze upon this
Declaration, the jokes of days gone by are no more than memories…

That would make both me and my mother a pair of happy Hancocks, proud in name and reputation.

Don’t miss my
pictures from today
—you’ll especially want to check out
this one
with Jefferson landing on his backside and tumbling to the ground! Hoo-wee!

From:
http://www.marktwain.com/blog/

Subject:
“The Paying Kind” and Other Stories…

’Twas the kind of day when a man would far prefer the scent of the summer air all by its lonesome rather than the background
for a far less appealing chore.

If I’ve said it once I’ll say it once again—I have never been the kind of man who connects with the ones and the zeroes. I
have never been the kind of soul who can stare for hours into the blank canvas of a digital screen. And above all, while I
fancy myself an artist, I can never design a digital version of what you’re now gazing upon.

Which brings me back to the kind of day I mentioned prior—’twas my chore for the day, sitting there in the open air on my
front porch, attempting to design what you are now lookin’ at. But at the time, I slaved over something that wasn’t coming.

My neighbor approached around noontime, curiously looking upon what I was slaving over. “
Good day
,” he said. “
Whatchya got there?
”

Well, my smarts got the better of my brain at the moment, and before I spoke I took the time to place my words in a careful
order. “
What am I doing?
” I spoke with excitement… “
Most probably the most amusing, fun, rewarding thing any man on a sunny day like today could do! Designing my brand-new digital
scribble sheet!
”

My neighbor looked at me with jealousy as I turned back to the screen, poking and tapping away with a whistle from my mouth.
He leaned in closer, curiously. “
Do you think maybe I could help ya?
” he wondered.

“
Oh, no no no no no
,” I replied. “
This is important business that I can’t just hand over to anyone. Besides, why would I let someone else do something that
I enjoy as much as I do? I’d be crazy to just step aside and let someone have all the fun!
”

My neighbor stood quiet for a moment, tongue hangin’ out the side of his mouth. Then his eyes lit up like a candle’s flame
and he dug deep into his pocket. My neighbor turned to me, leaned in close and spoke, “
I’ll pay you if you’ll let me
.”

I looked to him with eyebrows raised. “
You want to pay me so you can take over the design?
” I asked. “
You’re asking me to step aside and let you do the whole business?
” He nodded affirmatively as he pulled a wad of money from his pocket, shoving it into my palm.

By the time the sun was hangin’ close to the horizon, my pockets were filled with green. My neighbor, his cousin and four
more locals had heard of the exciting activity at the Twain estate that would only cost them a day’s work!

Sometimes, perception, it seems, is far more appealing than conception. Of which, this site has now experienced thanks to
some very passionate, very gullible locals!

From:
http://www.howardhughes.com/blog/

Subject:
The Benefits of Keeping Urine in a Jar

Urine.

Urine urine urine urine urine.

Doesn’t sound like a real word anymore when you say it twenty-one times.

Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine.

What is urine? What is it? What is it what is it what is it? It’s urine. Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine
Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine.

I wrote about urine. Twenty-one times before. You can read those entries
here
,
here
,
here
,
here
,
here
,
here
,
here
,
here
,
here
,
here
,
here
,
here
,
here
,
here
,
here
,
here
,
here
,
here
,
here
,
here
and
here
. I also wrote about peas. I like peas, and that’s a word I can stand behind! Peas. Please. Peas. Please. Please, peas.

People are talking about me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. No, I do not wear tissue boxes for shoes. No, I am not dead. No, these rumors
are the creations of governments who seek to destroy me. Me and my urine! Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine
Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine.

Yes, I keep my urine in a jar. It is sanitary. Sanitary. Sanitary. Tell me about what’s not sanitary and I’ll tell you what
is sanitary. And while I’m telling you what is sanitary you’ll have to excuse me while I fill up a jar with my urine. Urine
Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine Urine.

Yes, it’s a word. Urine is. But it’s not nearly the kind of word that peas is. Peas is a word you can stand behind. I wouldn’t
be caught dead standing behind, above or in such a word as urine.

It’s fun running a huge corporation funded by millions of dollars in capital.

..................................Twenty-one dots. There are twenty-one dots there. This is my new signature. This is a much
safer signature. One that cannot be forged. People are out to get me and my jars and my peas and I must be ingenious to outwit
them.

More later!

From:
http://www.isaacnewton.com/blogstore/

Subject:
On the Subject of Gravitation (and, Shirts)

’Tis the subject of gravitation that has most likely drawn you, dear readers, to my location here. And wherest I initially
found it confounding that such subject matter would resonate so deeply with the public, time told the tale and proved me wrong.

Soon after, the letters began arriving—many from those who once knew me at Cambridge and continue to make my acquaintance
to this day. Others, looking for the “Newton Apple”—that which struck me upon my head which sparked the notion of gravitation
into my mind. Before long, the tale of the Newton Apple shirt was born!

Just as the famous “Newton apple” descended downward (and not sideways or upward) due to gravity—so too has the price of the
Newton Apple Shirt (pictured below)!

(Newton Apple Shirt in S, M, L, XL, XXL)

Made from the finest wool from the finest sheep from the finest county around (Lincolnshire), the “Newton Apple Shirt” can
be worn with your finest threads, to events big and small, all the while you will subtly be communicating your belief in gravity,
your support of yours truly, and your love of all apples great and small.

[
Click here to purchase!
]

Other “Newton Apple” products are well on their way! The “Newton Apple Tunic,” the “Newton Apple Wig” and the most widely
requested item since the inception of this site, the “Newton Apple, Apple”!

From:
http://www.alanturing.com/blog/

Subject:
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100010
0110011001100110011100010101001001100100100
1001001001110011000011010101001001100110011001001001001000011010101010100
01010100010010001.

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100110000110101010010011001100
11001001
00100100001101010101010001010100010
000100111001111001010001001100110011001100111000101010010011001001001
00100100111001100001101010100100110011001100100
1001001000011010101010100010101000100.

0010011100111100101000100110011001100110011100010101001001100100100100100100111
001100001101010100100110011001100100100100100001
1010101010100010101000100011000011010101001001100110011001001
001001000011010101010100010101000100001001110011110010100010011001100
1100110011100010101001001100100100100100100111001100001101010100
1001100110011001001001001000011010101010100010101000100!!

00100111001111001010001001100110011001100111000101010010011001001001001
001001110011000011010101001001100110011001001001001000011010101010100010
101000100.

001001110011110010100010011001100110011001110001010100100110010010010
01001001110011000011010101001001100110011001001001001000011010101010100010101
000100001001110011110010100010011001100110011001
11000101010010011001001001001001001110011000011010101001001100110011001001
001001000011010101010100010101000100…

0010011100111100101000100110011001100110011100010101001001100100100100
10010011100110000110101010010011001100110
01001001001000011010101010100010101000100.

00100111001111001010001001100110011001100111000101010010011001001001001001
00111001100001101010100100110011001100100100100100
0011010101010100010101000100.

010101010101010000011010100100101010001001001000001010101010100010101010000
101010100001110010101001010.

01010001110.

From:
http://www.pocahontas-theAlgonquian.com/blog/

Subject:
Powhatan, Kocoum and I

First, please forgive me and my URL. It became apparent to me, however horribly, that another Algonquian from Tenakomakah
swooped in like an eagle and took the
pocahontas.com
domain name. It appears as if there are more than one of our tribe who
consider themselves “playful” and “frolicsome” and deserving of a place to express their thoughts.