Improbable History

Bologna History:

The Lighter Side of History

Most strippers usually begin with an accessory of some sort. Some will wear like boa feathers and use that to begin with as a type of tantalizing tension builder. Others will not rely upon accessories and just go straight for the top to begin with. But those strippers lack imagination.

Nubian girls dance for the Pharaoh as early as 2100 BC

In the misty dawn of time before there was recorded history there was a tribe of inventive hunters. They were known throughout the area as inventors whose innovations were improvements to the quality of life in those parts.

The local tribes were always amazed and delighted with Ogg and Gronks marvelous inventions like the things called shoes, cooked y'eggs and the fermented fruit drinks and even the practical cooking rock the y'ron. Even the ladies of the tribe, especially the two friends Rhonda and Sheila, occasionally came up with practical ideas.

Since life in the tribe could get quite hectic, and it is well known that women need some "me" time, Sheila had planned a quiet get away at the hot springs with a couple of her best friends. After the adventure of the T-Rex, they had learned never to travel alone, unlike the intrepid Rhonda. She had planned a restful day at the hot springs so had packed a small meal to have while enjoying her day. A pouch of raw y'eggs , some dried BBQ dinosaur, and a skin of fermented fruit drink were on the "menu".

When Sheila and her companions arrived at the springs, she took a few of the raw y'eggs and placed them in the hot pool of water to "cook" where the T-rex had met his demise, and thinking the BBQ'ed dinosaur would attract animals she decided to hang the rest of the food in the branch of a flowering tree close to the bathing pool.

The ladies adjourned to the comfort of the warm springs and started relaxing with their rituals of cleanliness. They had discovered that the goo at the bottom of the pool was particularly soothing to chaffed dry facial skin, so mud packs were the order of the day. After several hours of lazing around in the pool, the occasional nip at the "juice" skin, and a good scrubbing down with the fine sand around the pool, Sheila happened to look over at where she had left the food hanging.

To her utter disgust. several tree climbing rodents called shams were busily hanging upside down from the leather pouch holding the raw y'eggs, meat and the other juice skin. Now shams were not well liked by the tribe, partly because they were rodents and were not good to eat because of their fat content, but mainly because of their habit of defecating everywhere and ruining everything they came in contact with...Filthy little beasts. These creatures had already chewed a small hole in the "juice skin" causing a small slow shower of bubbly, frothy liquid to fall to the ground and were busily working on making a hole in the food pouch.

Sheila immediately ran toward the small thieves stopping only to pick up a sturdy branch with which to bash their larcenous little skulls. Sheila, somewhat dizzy from the "juice" and none to steady on her feet, tripped on the way to the tree and fell into an old fire pit from previous expeditions. Covered in a fine white ash, she arrived at the tree and took a roundhouse swing at the closest sham, who easily dodged the blow, but which landed square on the pouch with the Y'eggs and greasy meat. The bag, soiled with the sham's peculiar feces which ate through most substances, opened even more and drenched her whole previously clean body.

Enraged and not in the least worried about the damage done to the "picnic" Rhonda continued her assault on the agile animals, flailing away with nary a killing blow landed. Much damage was done, however, to the pouch of food and the tree branch. Each blow to the branch brought a fine shower of Juice, Y'eggs , grease and tree sap down upon the enraged Cave woman who was so mired that she was unrecognizable. Eventually tiring of the action, the rodents skittered away and Rhonda ceased her punitive actions.

Wandering back to the water, she and her girlfriends started rubbing at the mess on her skin and in her hair. They found the feeling of the gooey substance was much better than the sand scrubbing. When she lay down in the warm water, it also caused a slight foaming and released a pleasant fragrance since the tree sap that was mixed in happened to be Hibiscus in full bloom.

After a final rinse with warm clean water Rhonda could feel how light and wonderful her hair was and got a great idea. Thanks to the Shams, the other women of her tribe would love this product and it was so easily made. Upon arrival back at camp when Gronk greeted her with "Gee, your hair smells terrific", she knew she had a winner. When asked the story of this new invention, she told the tale and pronounced that the sham had poohed on her new pouch. The name stuck as the legend of sham-poo.

The eruption of Pompei in 76 AD was the last straw. Romans who had invested in prime seaside real estate there saw the value of their portfolios shrink to bupkes, as the hot sulfur and ash of the volcano added to the constant direct sunlight, and the resort hotels began receiving cancellations by the thousands.

The nation's great thinkers appealed to its scientists to "do something". Within months, Gyrus and his team of researchers and engineers proved the feasibility of their plan to install an axis of symmetry through the earth, and to start the globe rotating on it, thus evenly distributing both the temperatures and the hours of daylight and darkness, uniformly and equitably, to all the inhabitants thereof.

By continuously deploying hundreds of excavation crews to the poles ... each of which periodically relieved both themselves and the crew who had gone before them ... the axis, along with its bearings, was installed within three years. It is an historic testament to the value of project management and planning that only once during the entire operation was there a delay, when one unfortunate crew chief named Vas Deferens, upon arriving on site, opened the box of balls which he had been tasked to deliver and discovered that he had lost his bearings.

Finally, with the axis completed, beginning slowly and building to a crescendo, the globe was spun up to its final angular velocity of nearly 4.4 milliradians per minute, where it remains to this day, with only negligible deceleration through the centuries that have intervened.

Way back in the mists of time, a group of Cornish knockers led by Big Knocker and his wife Huge Knocker set sail from Tolskithy harbour, their treacle mine had run out, and they knew nothing of clotted cream mining or even of oggie making. They set sail to find their fame and fortune, legend has it that they stopped along the way and founded the city of Atlantis, they set sail again and disappeared for ever. Back at the treacle mines Little Knocker had become boss and his brother Small Knocker was running the oggie factory. UD 1 Tommy knocker the first was a Devonian pillager, he set forth to Cornwall one fine day. On arrival at the little Cornish town of Port Wenn he was walking near the oggie factory when fell down a mine shaft. Luckily Doc Martin was at the bottom of the mine at the time The Doc checked him over and gave him the all clear, saying that as Tommy had landed on his head no harm was done. Well Tommy ventured further into the mine, The carrots he had for tea helped him to see into the darkness. He suddenly noticed that his legs were feeling heavy, on closer inspection his feet were covered in a sticky substance. He had found a new seam of treacle. Overjoyed with his new discovery Tommy returned to Devon to get a team of workmen together. Because the Grockle season had just begun no one was interested in helping Tommy, in desperation he called Ken Dodd to ask if some of the Diddy men were available to help. The Diddy men have vast experience of jam buttie mining. Ken said how tickled I am that you asked me to help. I will rent you some of my boys if you don't tell the taxman. A deal was struck, the Diddy men made their way to Port Wenn and the treacle supply was restored. West Country news interviewed Tommy a little later they asked if he was going to try to take over the oggie factory with his new found wealth. he replied no I don't think I will I'm quite happy sticking to treacle. Little Knocker did not take too kindly to this Devonian upstart muscling in on the treacle franchise. So one Saturday Afternoon he got the boys together (There wasn't anything on the telly worth watching , much like nowadays), and after a few pints in the local inn, hopped above a passing Cornish dragon, and made their way to Port Wenn, There they confronted (and conbacked) Tommy Knocker and the Diddy men on a muddy field. During the melee, one of the diddymens head got knocked off, Little Knocker caught it and ran for Tommy's totem pole (shaped like a big H) dropped below the cross bar and claimed 5 points. Thus was born the Cornish game of rugby, still fought on muddy fields in Cornwall during the winter months. How it got the name of Rugby is an another story, we will tell you it when we think of it.

Meanwhile back at the city of Atlantis, things were looking very dodgy. UD3 The Devonions watching the game had noticed the head that was responsible for scoring the five points was in fact wearing a wig, the slang name for a wig is rug. As the wig flew of the diddy mans head A shout was heard from the crowd Did you see that rug go by. well as we all know, when you gotta go, you gotta go. And so, go, went and it just became rugby. After the match, war broke out between Little Knockers workers & the Diddy men Treacle & Oggies were flying everywhere. A bystander caught an oggie in his eye and a dollop of treacle on his chin, Mixing the two together, was the birth of the invention of the sweet oggie. Sweet oggies are now a Cornish treasure, and very expensive to boot. Well those Diddy men don't work for peanuts you know, plus the fact the oggie makers union demanded fair pay for all. The sweet oggie has become the favourite half time snack of rugby fans Cornwall wide. Sweet oggies are only available in the town of Port Wenn, that keeps transportation costs down, and makes the Knocker family one of the richest in Cornwall. Port Wenn is located near to Bodmin, beware The Beast of Bodmin has developed a taste for sweet oggies. You eat these at your own risk, never at night, and never take on to the moors to eat. You have been warned Back in Atlantis, after Big and Huge Knocker and the rest had set sail, Tiny Knocker and his wife Door, found themselves in charge of a rapidly modernising city, with running water in every house. Looking up through the hole in the thatch, Tiny thought to himself, 'either I'm going to have to invent tiles or the machine gun to stop those pesky phoenix nesting on the roofs, but worse was too follow.

The next day, when Door managed to get Tiny out from underneath the pile of furs on their bed.

As Tiny was having his breakfast (Lunch by our timescale) of bread and fruit from the breadfruit tree outside his front door. He could hear a commotion down the street, doing his civic duties ( in other words being plain nosy) he went to investigate.

What a sight met his eyes, wedged between the Oggie shop and the Clotted Cream Emporium, was a large tin box on two wheels, standing in front of the tin box dancing up and down were two people, one dressed in a what looked liked a rubber suit, the other in very little at all, must be a stag do at the Olde Inn again thought Tiny.

As He got closer Tiny could hear what they were shouting 'I no Speakee the Lingo'

the one in the rubber suit was shouting while holding a six foot piece of wood.

Tiny made a mental note to find out when this do at the inn was.

Hang on thought Tiny, if he can't speak de lingo, how come I can understand every word he's saying.

Dragging his eyes away from the under-dressed female, Tiny noticed the traffic imp was trying to tell the strangers that they could not leave their tin box on wheels there.

Quickly introducing himself, Tiny learnt that the strangers were called Mr and Mrs Emmetdude, and that the tin box on wheels was called a caravandude.

What strange names thought Tiny, but the next words from Emmetdudes mouth left him speechless, that there were another 10,000 of these caravandudes on the way.

The Annual invasion had started.

Update 5

Meanwhile back on Bodmin Moor Daff o'Dill the grockle and Denzil Penberthy, an emmet Cornish Pixie or pisky depending on how many pints he had drunk, were preparing a trap for the fabled Beast of Bodmin Moor. Loading the trap with sweet oggys nicked from TommyKnockers store, Denzil and Daff o'Dill made their way back to their hide, removing a pair of courting leperchauns from inside the hide, they prepared for a very long night. Denzil awoke with a start, removing the start from his sleeping fur, Denzil wondered were the bright light was coming from, kicking Daff o'Dill, Denzil checked the sundial strapped to his wrist, it was that heavy he could hardily lift it high enough to check the time. 'Error' flashed the sundial 'This is not sunshine' and promptly switched it's self off. Daff o'Dill yawned and shook himself dislodging some hobgoblins from his beard, which promptly stole the packet of Hob-Nobs Daff had in his croustbag, chasing after the hobgoblins Daff ran out of the hide and tripped over a sleeping unicorn. On hearing the commotion, swearing and then screams from outside, Denzil braced himself for the worse, he knew that brace would come in handy one day. He stepped outside the hide to be confronted by Daff o'Dill sitting on the unicorn floating in the air surrounded by a pulsating beam of light. That's it thought Denzil, not another drop of Old Haymakers Ale (2 pints and you're floored) is passing my lips again, and I'm going to have a word with Ma Kelly, she must of mixed up that last shipment of tobacco again. Denzil rubbed his eyes, pinched himself, banged his head against the nearest tree, but no matter what he did, when he turned around there was Daff still on the unicorn floating in the air in a pulsating beam of light. 'I knew today was going to be a bad day' thought Denzil, 'but this is just getting stupid'. 'RIGHT' shouted Denzil at the top of his voice, 'LETS ALL JUST HANG ON A MOMENT LADS'. Denzil strode up to the glass of the monitor, and rapped on it, 'Oi you', he shouted, 'you at the keyboard, wake your ideas up, or just leave it to the two daft idiots that normally writes this garbage. Denzil strode back, 'ok lads ' he shouted 'smoke time over', now were was we, 'I knew today was going to be a bad day' thought Denzil, 'and where is Mulder and Scully when you need them the most, Off making a bloody film' The beam of light started pulsating faster, and Denzil cocked an ear, 'Is that music I can hear' he said to no one in particular. 'I can't hear anything' said no one in particular to Denzil. It is music said Denzil, and i recognize that tune, it's Scotland the Brave. Just as he said it the beam of light holding Daff and the unicorn winked out, and a loud sort of droning was heard. Blimey thought Denzil, sounds like something is being tortured. Suddenly, about 50 or 60 different coloured beams of light appeared randomly sweeping the ground, Oh this is good, thought Denzil, it's like being at a Pink Floyd concert. Just then the droning turn into the banshee wail of bagpipes. It is Pink Floyd thought Denzil, stuffing an imp in each ear. Can't remember them doing a version of Scotland the Brave.

Update 6

Back in Atlantis, the city was busting at the seams with Tinboxes on wheels, enterprising Knockers were hiring their front gardens as parking spaces. Dude Knocker was lying in the middle of the road exhausted, after running everywhere trying to answer his name nearly every ten seconds. The Olde Inn had run out of everything, there wasn't any clotted cream or even a mouldy oggie to be had within 20 miles. The Mermaids had gone on strike, the Unicorns were being used as mobile litter pickers.

At the University of WikiAnswers, where we are game for a laugh. We tried this experiment on a supervisor named Mike. What happened next, even we weren't expecting the result we got. Somehow we ended up with two of them. We have our finest Supervisors working on this in their padded cells, but as of yet no answer.

How else did you think he ended up with the user name Mike 2.

Another contributor said:

Stephen King wrote a short story "Survivor Type" based on this premise. It was included in the 1982 horror anthology Terrors and collected again in King's 1985 collection Skeleton Crew. In essence, people who suffer from anorexia nervosa are doing precisely this as they starve themselves to death. Their body begins to break down and metabolize their tissues - in essence self-cannibalization.

Dave's Disease, often referred to as 'Non-study syndrome', 'Nick Beech Disorder', or 'Excessive Procrastination Dysfunctional Study Syndrome (EPDSS), is a pathological condition of the self-control receptors in the Medullary Study Centre of the brain.

Patients suffering from Dave's Disease are almost incapable of achieveing desired study goals within a set time frame. Despite excessive desire to study, or fear of failure, a patient with Dave's Disease are incapable of prioritising study. Often patient's with Dave's Disease will sit for hours constantly believing they'll start studying soon. This perpetual belief allows them to procrastinate under a false sense of achievement for hours and it is only at the end of the day that the non-studyoglandin levels are high enough to cause a response, which is usually a further inability to study due to a paralysis induced by excessive paranoia (often called Dave's Disease Paradox).

Pathology:

The mechanism of Dave's Disease is not clear. One hypothesis suggests there is an under expression of the Studylase enzyme required for the production of self-disciplineoglandins, which bind to self-control receptors of the Medullary Study Centre.

The alternative hypothesis states that there is a down regulation of stress receptors caused by a chronic over production of stressykinins. Leading to an inability to mount a physical response.

Treatment:

Currently there is no cure for Dave's Disease and treatment involves symptom management. Henderson's study has provided empirical evidence that Girlfriend Anger has a positive studyotropic effect. Mum Rage is less effective but is often used an alternative or last resort treatment for those immune to Girlfriend Anger for various reasons, including absence of Girlfriend or Jackassosis.

Of course they can. Show birds at club meets and 4H clubs offer great opportunities to win ribbons and trophies.

Here is one story.

James the farmer was in the fertilized egg business. He had a couple of

hundred young layers (hens), called 'pullets', and ten roosters, whose

job it was to fertilize the eggs.

He kept records and any rooster that didn't perform went into

the soup pot and was replaced. That took an awful lot of his time, so he

bought a set of tiny bells and attached them to his roosters. Each bell

had a different tone so James could tell from a distance, which rooster

was performing. Now he could sit on the porch and fill out an efficiency

report simply by listening to the bells.

His favorite rooster was old Alek, a very fine specimen he

was, too. But on this particular morning James noticed old Alek's bell

hadn't rung at all! He went to investigate. The other roosters were

chasing pullets, bells-a-ringing. The pullets, hearing the roosters

coming, would run for cover.

But to Farmer James's amazement, old Alek had his bell in his beak, so

it couldn't ring. He'd sneak up on a pullet, do his job and walk on to

the next one. James was so proud of of Alek, James entered him in the local

County Fair and Alek became an overnight sensation among the

judges.

The result...The judges not only awarded Alek the No Bell Piece

Prize but they awarded him the Pulletsurprise as well.

Clearly Alek was a politician in the making: who else but a

politician could figure out how to win two of the most highly coveted

awards on our planet by being the best at sneaking up on the populace

and screwing them when they weren't paying attention.