Since I got absolutely no ideas on what to write and all the writers are on strike, I decided to post this column from 5 years ago…enjoy, the Best of Senitram! And by the “Best” I mean a random column that’s not too bad.
Here’s an interesting question from Wayne, “Why are there no B batteries?”
When I first read this I thought it was some sort of joke. So I went to the local store and checked it out. Yep, no B batteries to be found. I thought the best thing to do, would be to consult an expert. That’s when Ginger Lynn came to mind! No one would know more about batteries than the most famous porn star in the world. So I went to her web site and wrote her an email with my question and patiently waited by my computer for her reply.
This is why the column is late this week. I’M STILL WAITING!!! I know it was foolish, and I’ll probably end up with a bunch of porn email…but it was a risk I was willing to take…just for you my dear sweet readers! After two days I decided to go ahead and do the research myself.
Turns out, it all has to do with Aliens, Hollywood, and the Government.
My research led me to a section of Omaha called “Two Rivers.” It is named that because there are two rivers there. It’s right next to “Big Lake,” which you can get to by taking “Rocky Road.” Although “Big Lake” is a big lake, “Rocky Road” is not really all that rocky. Nebraskans are real creative at naming things.
Anyway, according to local legend, an Alien spacecraft intended to land in a nice grass field for a picnic, but accidentally landed square in the middle of “Two Rivers.” Well that space-ship motor got all wet and wouldn’t start. So them Aliens climbed out to look for help. Luckily they found a local farmer that pulled the ship out of the water with a horse and a good strong piece of rope.
The farmer, who we will call “farmer,” thought they looked kinda funny, so he says, “Hey, you guys look kinda funny.” He was training to be a Nebraska Highway Patrol Man and responded just like the manual says. He swiftly pulled out his shotgun and says, “You ain’t Meskins or Negros is you!”
Knowing they were in trouble, the Aliens told the farmer that they was from Hollywood and they were doing a movie. That seemed to go well with the farmer.
Then the Alien mechanic put on his overalls and got to work on that space-ship. Turned out that a bunch of batteries got wet and that’s why the ship didn’t go. So he replaced all the batteries. Just by chance, no “B” size batteries needed changing.
Although it’s a strict rule not to litter on other planets, the space mechanic just threw the them old batteries on the grass. Scattered around the ship was every battery that had been replaced, which was pretty much every sort of battery there was, except B batteries. When he finished with the space-ship, they had their picnic and invited the farmer to join them.
I guess that Alien food gave the farmer a sour stomach and he took to moaning and groaning and carry’n on. So the Alien Doctor gave the farmer an atomic space enema, which really helped out. The farmer thanked them kindly again and again. The Aliens must have thought that humans just love those enema’s, ’cause since-then, they give one to every human they meet.
The farmer watched them get in their ship and take off into space. At first he thought that they had some new fancy Hollywood truck and that’s why it flew straight up in the air. But after a few months of thinkin’ about it, he concluded they was not actors from Hollywood, but actually actors from another planet. So he calls the FBI to go search the area where the ship was. Turns out that’s when they found the mysterious devices we now call batteries. Since batteries hadn’t been invented yet, they were real excited about this new technology. All sorts of batteries were found from Triple A, to Triple X (the government haven’t figured out how XXX batteries work yet). Only no B batteries.
So the FBI asks the farmer, “Where the hell are the B batteries!”
The farmer says, “Guess those actors got ’em.”
Well then the FBI goes out and does all sorts of studies and reports, and conclude that B actors must be hogging the B batteries. So they get some guy named McCarthy to go out and throw B actors in jail so they can be questioned about the batteries. They told everyone that they were looking for Communists, but what they really wanted were those batteries.
They never got ’em, and we’ve had to live without them ever since. At least, according to local legend.
And now you know!
