Now, could someone do something about these absolutely horrendous noodles?
<< TANG >>
The solution tu the Noodle problem is written on the side of the Noodle carton, unfortunately it is written in ancient Korean and so here is the translation.
Remove foil hat from pot,
Carefully disguard contents of pot. Warning do not eat the pots contents.
Pour 1 cup boiling water intu pot. Stir and serve.
Tu improve flavor, add cooked chicken, noodles, fresh vegitables, chilli, fish sauce, salt and peper.
Warning: Do not add water tu the original content of the pot, that stuff is NASTY.
Shame your knowledge of ancient Korean was not up tu scratch.
I wish the Straight Dope message board was faster tuday.
Oh, my Scribble – did you really have to be quite so cruel to poor Bippy? Maybe I’d better not corrupt your wish too badly. :eek:
Okay: The noodles have vanished. In their place is a slice of pizza. It’s cold, and it isn’t the extra cheese you ordered; the crust is soggier than you’d like; but at least since it’s cold you don’t burn the roof of your mouth on it, the way you usually do. The sauce isn’t very good, though – not enough garlic.
I wish I could have a nice hot pizza with great sauce and two of my favorite toppings – broccoli and fresh tomato – for supper tonight.
Bippy–Thanks for the culinary tips. Now if only I could find that foil hat…the only one I’m seeing right now is being worn by the Campus Cafe Weirdo, who is muttering to himself. I think the hat is supposed to guard him against the mind control rays.
And I’m granting your wish–
su-KISH, su-KISH–Now that I’ve given the hamsters a touch of the whip, the SDMB has sped up. In fact, it’s sped up so fast that people are posting replies before you even get an opportunity to post your witticisms, profound observations, and gross-out jokes. This leaves you feeling very stressed, as you desperately wear your fingers to the bone, trying to type and hit “submit” quickly enough to get a word in before your idea is buried under a zillion spin-off threads filled with sexual innuendo, complaints about nice guys not getting a date, and references to Opal, 1920s style death rays, and the will of Og. Finally, all that stress gets to you, and you keel over of a heart attack within a few weeks. We all mourn your passing.
EddyTeddyFreddy–Hey, I ain’t cruel. It’s just the way corrupt wishes work, doncha know.
You get a nice hot pizza with the broccoli and fresh tomato. It’s a very nice pizza. So warm, so giving. And it’s very hot. Oooh, it’s hot. Jayne Mansfield, Marlene Deitrich, and Marilyn Monroe rolled into one couldn’t top this pizza for hotness. Your SO becomes deeply enamored of the pizza and runs off with it, leaving you to a dinner of Ben and Jerry’s as you cry on the couch. After a few days you meet a cheesesteak to die for, though, and you and your foodstuff are content for the rest of your somewhat unnatural lives.
I wish I could quit frittering away time on the SDMB and get to work.
And you get those two front teeth–on a platter, crushed into a powder.
BTW–a pizza with anchovies and calamari in the crust sounds pretty good to me. Anchovies are yummy, yummy, yummy. Hot calamari can be delectable, but I’ve never yet had cold calamari that didn’t taste like rubber o-rings.
Can someone stop my procrastinating now?
<< OK I can’t resist that set up Scribble >>
\\ Zippy, whippy, let’s get Bippy ///
Your procrastination will no longer be a problem, starting from tomorrow.
I wish to go home.
ps you guys have strange taste in food, one of you like Broccoli the other likes Anchovies. Why not like something normal like Marmite 
Actually, I like broccoli. And anchovies. But I never did like Marmite.
So you wish to go home, do you?
Scribbledy, dibbledy, doo–
Bippy is going home. Going to his ultimate home, the place he truly came from. He is rapidly shrinking, turning younger and younger, until he is well settled in his mama’s womb, where all he has to do is get nourishment through the umbilical cord and go through fetal development.
I wish the guy next to me would quit chewing with his mouth open.
chompchompchompittychomp
Finally! The guy next to you hs quit chewing with his mouth open, Scribble. No, it’s not because he now has his teeth sunk in your jugular vein. That’s just too obvious.
Nope, he’s stopped chewing entirely, because he’s ingested enough beans to power up an endless supply of farts to light.
I wish the guinea hens at the barn would lay some more eggs.
Cock-a-doodle-doooooooooo!!!
Yup, they’re laying eggs. Lots and lots of eggs. In fact, all the excess energy from egg laying, all the heat produced from all the friction of eggs popping right out of those hens is heating up the henhouse something fierce. The many laid eggs start to go bad in the heat, and the henhouse starts to reek of chicken crap and rotten eggs. Then the flies descend. And, oh, my–do they ever. Your henhouse is covered with flies, as is the entire surrounding area. Everything around you is coated with flies that have been attracted to the ever-mounting stench of your poultry, their products, and their by-products.
Eventually, your property is condemned by the board of health and all your neighbors have sued. You’re losing the lawsuits, and you will be more or less broke for the rest of your life; you’re paying for reparations and for the clean-up and rehabilitation of the festering heap of bacteria that used to be your land.
I wish I could go to sleep instead of working.
ALA dreamy time!
You can now go to sleep instead of working. Unfortunately
-
your boss will no longer pay you
-
You actually get more work done (but it was only a dream)
-
Your company thrives. Leading everyone to notice how “important” your contribution has been over the years.
-
You are able to sleep instead of working, but the only way you can sleep is while running. You go broke paying the gym to stay open late.
DOH! forgot to wish again.
I wish my wish corrupting privileges will not be revoked.
A-OOOOOOOOO-GAAAA!!!
Don’t worry, pervert – your wish corrupting privileges will not be revoked. Rather, they’ll be, shall we say, enhanced. Every time you corrupt a wish, it will change it, all right – but make it better. The granting of people’s wishes will be even more fulfilling than they could ever have dared to hope. Especially wishes by ETF – you’ll make a special effort to astound and elight her with the omprovements you’ll “corrupt” upon her wishes.
I wish pervert would be the next poster.
Watch what you call me, snookums.
pervert becomes the next poster at the Bijou XXXIX Theatres. Small children point and giggle.
I wish Santa would conform with the Kyoto standards re: reindeer emissions.
ALA Pinto Bean Soup!
Santa does enact certain “emission filter” technology in order to comply with the Kyoto standards. He modifies the high octane feed the reindeer get. Finally, he imposes a sort of “delivery tax”. Each recipient of gifts is left an additional “present”, usually on the roof, which they have to dispose of themselves. On the bright side steaming piles of “emissions” on the roof becomes a new gambit for convincing reluctant children that sant exists.
I wish I could find a way to balance my budget.
<< money-money-money-allways-funny-in-a-rich-man’s-world >>
pervert lucky that you caught the accounts department still operating. Ballancing your budget is simple, but you need to cut down on food expenses, from now on you can only afford to eat pinto-bean stew. You also need a second source of income, the poster produced by BJMoose is to be just the first of a series of fine art prints of pervert doing tantric yoga. These can be sold in specialised boutiques and will raise enough money that you won’t need to get a cheaper place to live.
I wish lawyers were cheaper.
**** ka-CHING****
Bippy, lawyers are now cheaper. They never buy their clients lunch any more. This, of course, does not affect their fees.
I wish someone else would clip my eight cats’ claws tonight.
A Samantha wiggle of the nose and walla!
You can now read minds, but for every positive thought that strokes your ego, you encounter a hundred negative vibes. You sink into a deep depression and ultimately end up in a phychiatric hospital on suicide watch.
I wish I could live forever.
Whoops, posted to the wrong poster.
ETF, you get a professional cat groomer to clip your cats’ claws. However, they retaliate by leaving eight large presents on your newly cleaned carpet.
I wish Santa would bring me a Texas Chopper.
<jingle jingle>
Santa brings you a Texas Chopper.
You wake briefly after midnight on Christmas Eve, to a thud on the roof. You dimly hear a number of scraping sounds and a whispered command or two, but, strangely, you go back to sleep. You wake in the morning, to find a red-and-green tag tied to a string going up your fireplace’s chimney. In beautiful golden script, it reads, “Follow Me”.
You look up the chimhey, but it appears to be blocked or covered. You throw on boots and housecoat and run outside.
Perched on your chimney is the Texas Chopper you wished for: a real true Texas Highway Patrol chase helicopter, complete with radio, lights, and weapons. The string is tied to its landing skid.
As you look up with amazement, distant sirens come closer.
I wish that gorgeous Polish girl would give me the time of day, in such a way as to form a beautiful friendship, and eventually a torrid love affair, with me.