I came to work at 7:30 a.m. today, and I'm done with my story (what do the cops do with confiscated drugs and guns), so I've been going through my e-mail box. Why don't I just go home? My boss wants to talk with me at 4 p.m. So I'm stuck.
David and Fiona suggested via Twitter that I share the Bad Questions on my blog. Good idea, so here you are: (The spelling and grammar is solely the responsibility of the question-asker)
"I want to know how apples get their shape?"
"What determines the size of a raindrop?"
"Why do vehicles made by Asian companies have faulty speedometers?"
"In the game Simon says... Who is Simon anyway? Furthermore, why does one need to wait for him to say what they can or can't do?"
"Why is it that people can't smell their own bad breath?" Not a bad question, but probably not a good story.
"What is the date on milk?" November 15th?
"Why is it your oven fills the house with cabon minoxcide when you use it for a heat source but it doesn't when you use it for baking?" Let's hope that's a question not based on real-life experience.
"If brail is an american language, how do people who are blind and speak another language read brail?"
I get 75 e-mails a day. And I love it. Really.
