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The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was:

> Tell me, O wise Oracle, who knows everything in the universe including > the naughty bits, > > What really turns the babes on?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Follow the following instructions, and babes will crawl all over you!! } }       THE USENET ORACLE UNLIMITED BABE SECRET: } } Supplies: } 2 cups peanut butter                          4 Cups sugar } 1 Bottle of your favorite perfume             3 Toothpicks } 10 crates of whipped cream                    1 bottle of that green }                                                 crap you put on your }                                                 face } } Instructions: } 1) Mix one cup of peanut butter with 3 cups of the sugar.  (You may add } flour for texture).  Mix until even texture, and then chill. } 2) While chilling peanut butter/sugar mixture, spread the bottle of the } green crap on your face, chest, and back. } 3) Use 5 crates of whipping cream to cover your legs, arms, hair, and } um, any over questionary body parts. } 4) Take the Peanut butter/sugar mixture out.  Mix in the other 5 crates } of whipping cream and perfume. } 5) Use the toothpicks to mix the mixtures into a frothy type substance. } 6) When the babes see you, they will die for a date! } 7) When the supermodel of your choice shows up, apply the second } mixture to her body! } 8) The Usenet Oracle wishes you and your date an exciting, and yummy } evening!! } } You owe the Oracle a dictionary, and any left over (clean) dates, along } with the left over mixtures.

The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was:

> Totally unflossable Oracle, who makes my toes grovel in front of my > nose in abject terror of YOU, please help me find my mittens.  It's > awful cold outside, and I cannot go out until I find them.  I've > looked **everywhere**.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} DEaR  SuPpLiCAnt, } }       We HAve InTercepted YoUr ATTEMPT To CONTact the Oracle. } } IF You Want to see mittens ALIVE again, PUT $100 IN a BOX outside } YOUR garage DOOR tonight.  WE will NEGOTIATE for the missing SOCK } later. } } SiNcerEly, } }       XXxXxXX

The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was:

> Oh great & mighty net.oracle, > I am wandering in the wilderness, > I am confused and bewildered, > When I traverse the net I see many net.things and they each > proseltyze and preach that their way is the way to true enlightenment. > The discordia mosaic site instructs me to find Eris in my pineal gland, > alt.religon.emacs tell me to eschew eVIl by m-x-worship-ing the one > true editor, Kibo ranges across the net spreading his gospel of > explosion, > from every gopher site, ftp, cookie, news article, and unsolicited mail > prophets preach to me, how can I find the true path to enlightenment ?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} "Follow the green line, second door on the left after you cross the } red line." } } The supplicant walks down the low, white hallway.  Her eyes glances } furtively at the 'decorative' artwork on the walls...Kibo's } self-portrait, a black and white photo of Heimdall at Ragnarok, } Christ's autograph on a napkin from the Last Supper, Michael } Jackson's missing glove.... } } She pauses at the door, unsure.  "Shall I open it?  It might not be } what I think...but I must know!"  She opens the door and enters. } } She jumps as the door slams behind her.  She whirls and sees the } Oracle behind her, dressed in a white lab coat.  He caresses his } stethoscope as he speaks.  "Oh supplicant, you have come seeking } knowledge, and you have certainly come to the right place!  Please, } stop up to the table." } } The supplicant, charmed by the Oracle's manner, does as he asks.  She } provides only the merest token resistance as the Oracle straps her to } the table "for safety reasons," but begins to regret the decision } after the Oracle sets the table on end. } } Lisa enters through another door.  She is clad in leather and chains, } her nipple-rings decorated with golden tassels.  She smirks as she } approaches the supplicant.  Lifting the supplicant's chin with her } riding crop, Lisa says, "So.  Ya came seeking enlightment, din't ya? } Prepare to have your eyes opened...." } } ---- } } The author at this time cuts back to the main lobby, where the } receptionist wears only a secret smile, knowing that an Oracularity } is the last bastion of cheap literary devices such as this. } } ---- } } Her eyes opened significantly wider, the supplicant leaves the } Oracular compound, barely noticing a new painting upon the Wall of } Fame.  The Oracle and Lisa sip tea on the veranda and watch as the } supplicant leaves. } } "Orrie, dear, do you think we were too harsh?" } } "Nonsense, my love," he replies as he reaches for a bagel.  "Millions } of children watch Barney every day.  What could it possibly do to an } adult, besides warn her?" } } ---- } } Many miles away, across the Rigitan Desert, beyond the Mountains of } Psychotonia, the new convert dons her suit, soon to appear as } Barney's new friend...Baby Bop. } } } You owe the Oracle an end to the ceaseless rantings of childrens' } television marketing.

The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was:

> Dear Oracle, whose mouse never gets stuck, > > Whenever I clean the little rubber sphere in my mouse, > people make stupid jokes. > > What are some snappy things I can say to shut them up?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} The Oracle offers you... } } "The Top Five Snappy Comebacks List to Shut Up People Who Make Comments }  to You While You're Cleaning the Little Rubber Sphere in Your Mouse!" } } Wait a minute.  That's too long.  Let's try... } } "Five Snappy Comebacks!" } } Hmmm.  Not really clear on what kind of 'Snappy Comebacks' are being } offered. How about... } } "The Top Five Snappy Comebacks While Mouse Cleaning!" } } Number five: }       "It's in the Mouse Field Maintenance Instructions.  Can't you }       read?" } } Number four: }       "Oh, and I suppose you never clean your balls?" (male-offenders }       only) } } Number three: }       "It's the key to keeping mouse-movements all in the wrist." } } Number two: }       "Hey, it's either this or get an optical mouse!  And those things }        can sear your eyeballs right out!" } } And the number one snappy comeback while mouse cleaning... } }       "I'm practicing for when I meet my boyfriend tonight.  Why, are }        you jealous?" (female usage only, unless, well... *ahem*) } } You owe the Oracle a massage.

The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was:

> Oh, great Oracle, in your great and infinite wisdom, with sight of all > things that were, that are, and are yet to come, (grovel, grovel...) > > There is something that puzzles me.  I have searched long and hard for > the answer.  I have climbed the highest mountains, searched far off > lands, sailed the seven seas, and even read a book (though admitadly it > was a X-Man comic), yet I have not come up with the answer.  So in > desperation, I have come to the Oracle. > > My question is this:  How do you program the VCR?  Everyone says that > it is so simple, yet I have found no one (save my four year old cousin) > who could actually do it.  Who came up with this whole VCR thing > anyway? > > Help me Oracle, you are my only hope.

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} You, as incomparable as your intelligence is to mine, have already } stumbled upon the answer to this problem that has pained so many lesser } souls. } } A VCR should *never* *ever* be programmed by an adult. This is } dangerous to both the VCR, and the adult's mind. When your VCR needs } programming, go to your local Rent-A-Kid[tm], and have it programmed } for you. The manuals that accompany your VCR *were NOT* put in the box } by your VCR-supplier, but are fakes, put there by the Devil[R] to trap } unwary adults. The original manual, is just one piece of paper, in } large enough type, so that even kids can read it, saying the maximum } age for programming a VCR is 14 yrs, but that, for safety sake, people } shouldn't even touch a VCR once they've reached puberty. } } You owe the Oracle the director's cut of DUNE.

The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was:

> Dear Oracle, > > I love you and constantly work to glorify Your name. > I'm always thinking. > > Now I have devised a special OracleGrovelSmiley for all the > net.people to use. > > It is full of symbolic meaning; it shows a Supplicant, beaming > broadly from delight at being in your Presence; the Supplicant is > horizontal from having bowed down so deeply to abase himself. The > supplicant's body is not shown, to indicate that You exist on a > higher and incorporeal plane of Being than lowly mortals do. > > Okay. You ready? Here it comes -- > >             :-) > > What do you think of it?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

}  Pause...  Oracle scratches his head.  He sets his monitor on it's }  edge. Now the smiley looks something like: } }     /-\ }      | }     . . } }  "Darnit... wrong way..." } }     . . }      | }     \-/ } }  "Much better."  But something still wasn't quite right.  Somehow the }  supplicant's picture was more suitable.  And then it occurred to him. }  He set monitor upright again... } }     :-) } }  "You know what supplicant?  You're right.  I'm much more effective in }  the horizontal position." } }  You owe the Oracle a contraceptive.

The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was:

> O Oracle, more dear to me than Bambi, > > How come the people who are always passing the buck > never pass me any dough?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} From: Oracle } To: High Priest } Subject: #Qa13320 } } High Priest, } Umm, Lisa wants to _you_know_what_ right now. Could you look after this } one for me? Good lad. }    T.U. Oracle } } --- } } From: High Priest } To: Priest #47 } Subject: #Qa13320 } } Priest, } I'm a bit tied up at the moment. Perhaps you would like to answer this } question. }    High Priest } } --- } } From: Priest #47 } To: Apprentice Priest #98 } Subject: #Qa13320 } } Hey, } The big guy is a bit busy right now. Perhaps you could answer this } question for him, OK? }    Priest #47 } } --- } } From: Apprentice Priest #98 } To: Admin Clerk #143 } Subject: #Qa13320 } } Hiya. } Remember you were telling me how you always wanted to answer one of } these questions? Well, I got one for you. See what you can do. }    Apprentice Priest #98 } } --- } } From: Admin Clerk @143 } To: Records Archivist } Subject: #Qa13320 } } Please check attached question w.r.t. previous attempts. Report ASAP. } } --- } } From: Records Archivist } To: Assistant Records Archivist } Subject: #Qa13320 } } I've got a bit of a backlog of search requests. Can you look after this } one for me please? } } --- } } From: Assistant Records Archivist } To: Janitor } Subject: #Qa13320 } } When you clear out the trash tonight, just take a quick look to see if } there's anything in there which could be used as the basis for an } answer to this question. } } --- } } From: Janitor } To: Chaimbermaid } Subject: #Qa13320 } } Have a look around in Mr. Big's room when you get a chance. He's got a } big book of clever answers and I need one real soon. See you behind the } garden shed after work. } } --- } } From: Chaimbermaid } To: Head Cook } Subject: #Qa13320 } } They're both in their room at the moment doing _you_know_what_ and I } need that big book off his desk. Can you get somebody to bring it down } when you send up their supper? Thanks. } } --- } } From: Head Cook } To: Head Baker } Subject: #Qa13320 } } They're at it again. That means we'll need to order more whipped } cream, treacle and all the other stuff they use. Just mix it all up } together, don't bother to send up so many bottles. } } --- } } From: Oracle } To: Supplicant } Subject: #Qa13320 } } Er, the kitched just sent me this large bowl of dough. Is that what you } wanted? } } You owe the Oracle a gallon of whipped cream and treacle. (Ready my } dear?)

The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was:

> For the love of God, Montresor!

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Hey, I said askme, not "cask" me!

The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was:

> Dear Oracle, who is so perfect that he always surpasses himself, your > humble supplicant lies flat on his face in the mud and asks, "Hey, this > isn't mud!  It's rapid-set cement!  How am I going to get up?"

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} Wait for the road runner to go "Meep, Meep".  This will launch you into } the air, landing in the path of a large train.  The cement will grease } your feet, allowing you to slide smoothly along the tracks.  By pushing } frantically, you will be able to barely stay ahead of the train until } you manage to escape by heading down a siding.  You will turn to look } at the departing train, breathing a sigh of relief, and not notice } that the tracks end at the edge of a cliff.  You will travel along, in } mid-air, for several moments until you notice.  You will then fall, } head followed by body followed by tail, right back into the rapid-set } cement again. } Sorry about that. } } You owe the Oracle a pair of ACME jet-powered roller skates and } Chuck Jones' autograph.

The Usenet Oracle has pondered your question deeply. Your question was:

> Why does a clock have hands, but no fingers or arms?

And in response, thus spake the Oracle:

} On the face of it, that's a good question. } } Clocks appear to have no fingers because they are bundled up against } the wind, (people insist on winding them, you know), } and have no arms because they do not partake of } the alarums and excursions of war. } } Shins they lack for religious reasons, so clocks } widdershins are counterclockwise, } and their feet have been loaned out to poets } who thusly measure time. } } Grandfather clocks have pendulous balls, } but the strangest thing of all, } is that if a clock has a second hand, } it is its third hand, } but its most minute hand is not its minute hand. } } You owe the Oracle Big Ben.