TWELVE STINKING POINTS? :eek:
Shit and two is eight! 
(I was calling you old: points in the Death Pool are accounted by 100 - [the person’s age]; of course, it is the Celebrity Death Pool: are you famous?)
Not famous, not THAT old; you would still get 40+ points IF I expired before January. Some would call that “motive.”
Got my eyes on you, and I just got brand-new glasses.
BTW: Betty White would be no help to you, huh?
Does that mean I can score 100+ points by correctly predicting that a celebrity couple will have an abortion or suffer a miscarriage?
Since I actually wasted time looking this up I have to tell you that you are closer than you think; it’s entomy.
In other news; I believe The Dope should go on Metric time just to make everyone’s life that much more interesting.
But you wasted Metric Time, so you still have some left over.
Dibs on being the Metric Gnome!
Oh, beat it! 
True, I still have 2 M hrs to go before I can go home and do something productive!
or should that be hrs(m)?
Remember this moment, people: Eighty past two on April 47th.
“mhours”, which takes the Celtic pronounciation, so it sounds a bit like “wahrs”. And there are 100 of them in a day, so each mhour is 14:24 old-style minutes, and there are ten metric minutes in a mhour. This means that the metric second is just ever so slightly shorter than the old-style second.
Really, getting 34 mhours of sleep a night sounds like a good thing to me.
Oh good! I was born on April 48th. I want a big party and a pony. Thank you.
Next we should adopt (forgive me) Trinidad & Tobago money: one dollar T&T is 15.7 cents USD. We’d all be millionaires. Rich as Croesus, I tells ya.
I think it should be “mours” of 100 “meconds.”
Nah, ferget it.
I encountered a mystical creature in the foothills near Macchu Pichu, a strange furry hooved beast with a long neck and a single twisted horn growing out of its head. It touched my head with its magic horn, curing me of all my delusions and hallucinations.
Not sure, but I think it was a llamacorn.
I met a creature at the foot of my bed this morning, a strange puffy barbarian who tried to eat my toes through the covers, curing me of oversleeping.
I didn’t need curing. 
My alarm clock(s) bark each morning at 7:29 (breakfast is 7:30). However, my nighttime alarm (on the iPhone, for pills) “Quacks.”
“quacks”? are you sure the pills work? check the label to see if they contain placebinol.
Oh, that does it! Here, listen for yourself: “Quack, quack, quack, quack, quack, quack, quack, quack.”
See?
I love the sound of ducks laughing.
QUACK wack wack wack wack wack
I always picture Daffy Duck. 
Ah, but does your iPhone echo?