FAQ about the OVID

Congratulations!  You've taken a further interest in the OVID!  Please memorize the FAQ:  it will be useful at funerals, bar-mitzvahs, Star Trek Conventions, and any event hosted by Bob Saget and Dave Coulier.

(The following is a transcript of an interview between myself and a rather rude Mormon who came to this web site)

QUESTION:  OK, you've wasted at least 45 seconds of my time, so tell me, what is this "OVID"?
ANSWER:  Not what...WHO.

QUESTION:  OK, then WHO?
ANSWER:  Not who...WHAT.

QUESTION:  Huh?  What in the name of William Shatner are you talking about?
ANSWER:  The OVID, of course.

QUESTION:  Quit fucking with me.  What is OVID?
ANSWER:  Not what...WHO.

QUESTION:  Oh, for crying out loud!  Can't you give me any useful information about OVID?
ANSWER:  Of course I can.  That's a stupid question.

QUESTION:  Quit being an asshole.
ANSWER:  . . .

QUESTION:  Hello?
ANSWER:  Yes.

QUESTION:  I asked you a question.
ANSWER: . . .

QUESTION:  FUCKO, ARE YOU THERE?
ANSWER:  Yes.

QUESTION:  THEN WHY DIDN'T YOU ANSWER MY QUESTION?
ANSWER:  Because you never asked one.  Questions usually end with a question mark.

QUESTION:  Touché.  Fine.  Let's start over, and I'll try to phrase my questions better.  What can you tell me about the OVID?
ANSWER:  All sorts of things.

QUESTION:  LIKE WHAT?
ANSWER:  Well, pretty much anything.  Don't get testy.

QUESTION: OK...THIS IS AN OBVIOUS ONE:  Is OVID an ancient Grecian writer?
ANSWER:  No, that's Ovid.

QUESTION:  You're shitting me.  Ok, what's the difference?
ANSWER:  Well...one is an ancient author...and the other is not.  One is pronounced "Ah-vid"...the other is OVID.

QUESTION:  Oh for fucks sake, this is tedious.  Why won't you answer my questions?
ANSWER:  I have every time you've posed one.

QUESTION:  NO you haven't!  You just run around in circles!  You're a dick and I hate you!  I hope my dog
shits on your lawn!  I hope you get herpes!
ANSWER: . . .

QUESTION:  DAMN IT TO HELL!  I HOPE YOU GET CAUGHT FUCKING MONKEYS!  I HOPE YOU EAT POOP WITH A SPOON!  *sigh* Ok...look.  I can see you dislike me as well.  I will go away and never pester you again on one condition:  will you FULLY and COMPLETELY answer ONE question to my ABSOLUTE SATISFACTION?
ANSWER:  Yes.

QUESTION:  OK...please define OVID for me, in no less than 1000 words.
ANSWER:  Hey, why are you still here?  I answered your question for you.

QUESTION:  Huh?  What do you mean?
ANSWER:  Well, you asked me to "FULLY and COMPLETELY answer ONE question to my ABSOLUTE SATISFACTION?"...and I did.  I said "Yes".  Thus, I have fulfilled my obligation, and I want you to fulfill yours.  I've got some nasty corns on my feet, and if I keep my podiatrist waiting much longer, he won't validate my parking.  So go away.

QUESTION:  WHY YOU DIRTY ASSHOLE!  I'M GONNA RIP OUT YOUR FUCKIN' GUTS AND FEED THEM TO MY GOLDFISH!  I'M GONNA SHIT DOWN YOUR MOUTH, PUNCH YOU IN THE GUT TO MAKE YOU PUKE IT UP, AND SHOVE IT BACK DOWN AGAIN!  I'M GONNA...

At this point, my interviewer ranted for another 15 minutes about the size of my penis, his sexual contact with my mother, and different methods of disemboweling me with feces, each more horrid than the last.  Of course, I gave him all the answers he could handle, but he just didn't want them.  Needless to say, the corns on my feet feel better, and I got my parking validated.  OVID

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