Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: bobad Date: 05 Apr 06 - 04:31 PM "Bobad ... a raccoon" My nickname in school was muskrat or muskie - derived from my family name. |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Rapparee Date: 05 Apr 06 - 04:35 PM MY nickname in high school was "Studly Studmuffin" -- derived from, ah, certain personal traits popular with the young women. |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Catherine Jayne Date: 05 Apr 06 - 04:41 PM If you ever hear Liz the Squeak laugh you will understand how she got her name!!......I suspect she is banned from Les Barker's concerts!!! *G* |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: number 6 Date: 05 Apr 06 - 04:42 PM CatsPHiddle .... cat's pee. sIx |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: SunnySister Date: 05 Apr 06 - 04:45 PM Oh this is a great thread!! I loved the Aqualung reference, Little Hawk- one of my all-time favorite songs for a myriad of reasons. Before reading your post,LH, I was like a lot of the others and thought about The Shambles in York. Liz the Squeek- makes me think of a really cool undercover agent's name Peace- makes me think of someone who should be living in a tent in People's park in Berkeley Joe Offer- makes me think of a car salesman's name El Greko- well, makes me think of... well, El Greko MMario- makes me think of a video game Bobad- for some reason makes me think of a bobcat. KatLaughing- makes me think of pure happiness and laughter (I'm a cat lover too so that helps! :) catspaw49- makes me think of 49 cats paws Stilly River Sage- makes me think of those tongue twisters that I was never any good at. Azizi- makes me think of a mythic female but like a cool female superhero with sort of an Egyptian feel as well. Obviously I could go on and on- and have! :) --SunnySister- who hopes no one gets the blues from reading my name reactions |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Catherine Jayne Date: 05 Apr 06 - 04:49 PM cats pee to the uneducated me thinks!! |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: number 6 Date: 05 Apr 06 - 04:53 PM catsPHiddle ..... humph ! sIx |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Catherine Jayne Date: 05 Apr 06 - 04:54 PM *G* |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: GUEST,mack/misophist Date: 05 Apr 06 - 09:12 PM El Greko? What else but Dominico Theotocopolis? (sp?) |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Homeless Date: 06 Apr 06 - 12:14 AM Thanx, Jeri. Since I've never owned a TV I'm not that familiar with anything on it. Bill D, by the time we met, I wasn't homeless anymore. You were maybe expecting *me* to be Aqualung? |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Bunnahabhain Date: 06 Apr 06 - 07:13 AM Sir jOhn ( or nOrman now) always makes me think of one of the knights in Monty Pythons Holy Grail, possibly one of of the ones who gets rabbited.... |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: GUEST,Bagpuss Date: 06 Apr 06 - 02:44 PM Apparently, non british people have a very different reaction to my name than do the brits around here... |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: MMario Date: 06 Apr 06 - 02:47 PM bagpuss - the image your name conjjures up for me varies - some days a bagpipe toting cat - and sometimes a bagpipe MADE of a cat. \ Sunny Sister - that video game is the bane of my existance!!!! |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Bunnahabhain Date: 06 Apr 06 - 03:50 PM Well, if you want to make a set of bagpipes out of a cat, all you have to do is put on full body armour, put the cat under you arm, and squeeze. You will soon produce sounds similar to a non-musical person first attempts to play the conventional bagpipes.... |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: MMario Date: 06 Apr 06 - 03:51 PM and here's a wierd one - what comes to my mind for Bunnahabhain is a Mr. Coffee type coffee maker! |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Bert Date: 06 Apr 06 - 04:14 PM Bagpuss - someone playing bagpipes and sounding like a cat that has been trodden on. Catspaw49 - PC49 Bill D - A Barbie doll, 'cos Barbie was copied from a German doll called Bild Lily. Mmario - the stuttering cow in Seamus' song Old McDonald's Deformed Farm. Shambles - a broken down old miner's shack. Number 6 - a weird extrapolation from Number 1 and Number 2. Martin Gibson - Kay Harmony Kaleea - a Cub Scout leader Gnomad - gonad |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Little Hawk Date: 06 Apr 06 - 04:15 PM Bunnahabhain for me summons of visions of some kind of weird cross between a rabbit and a hobbit. |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: MMario Date: 06 Apr 06 - 04:17 PM Kaleea - the panther in the Jungle books (yes, I know that's not Bagheera's name - but hey, my mind works in wierd ways- as any of my relatives or friends) m - m- m- m- Moo! |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Liz the Squeak Date: 06 Apr 06 - 04:35 PM Bunnahabhain - the act of not being allowed buns. LTS |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Metchosin Date: 06 Apr 06 - 04:47 PM Bunnahabhain, I could drink a case of you. But for some reason or other a character from Gulliver's Travels comes to mind first. |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: GUEST Date: 06 Apr 06 - 04:51 PM Bagpuss always brought to mind an image of someone who had had a lot of fat on their face earlier in life, but had lost some of the weight with age, leaving someone with thick lips, droopy eyes, and heavy jowly cheeks than hang well below the level of the chin. Bunnahabhain - a rabbit with a stutter in its hop. Kaleea - a rail thin, dark goddess, with short, layered hair and clad in gauzy, black material. (probably because of some sci-fi book I read at one point or another) |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Micca Date: 06 Apr 06 - 05:41 PM Kaleea... a ukelele toting Hula dancer in Waikiki Bunnahabhain.... an obscure and rare single malt whisky Number six.. a brand of cigarettes it only works for people I havent met... |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Little Hawk Date: 06 Apr 06 - 05:46 PM Khandu - the Egyptian god of enabling things to be accomplished. |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: katlaughing Date: 06 Apr 06 - 06:01 PM Little Hawk - Shaman in traiting/waiting Spaw - short for "spawn" of what, we will never know!**bg** Alba - White Light of Blessings Lonesome EJ - Old-timey Western fellah riding the high range Bert - a young prince in the loo (have you got any Prince Albert in the can?" in the US, Prince ALbert is a type of tobacco; can=tin, also a euphemism for loo) Justa Picker - self-effacing impressario alanabit - some kind of tool or someone with a "sidekick," i.e. Al and a Bit! |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Don(Wyziwyg)T Date: 06 Apr 06 - 06:41 PM "bagpuss - the image your name conjjures up for me varies - some days a bagpipe toting cat - and sometimes a bagpipe MADE of a cat." Strangely, the bagpipe made of a cat actually exists. There's a musician who joins the Bedford Hotel sessions at Sidmouth every year, who makes his own bagpipes, and he has one with a bag tiger striped in black and orange fun fur that looks a bit like Bagpuss. Don T. |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Don(Wyziwyg)T Date: 06 Apr 06 - 06:46 PM The Barden of England! A sort of giant size William Shakespeare strutting his hour on the stage. I cheated a bit 'cos I know him well, and it's true. Don T. |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Bert Date: 06 Apr 06 - 06:57 PM katlaughing is of course Lewis Carroll's cheshire cat, all that's lef tis the grin. Micca - a nicotine free tobacco substitute. Azizi - St. Francis Little Hawk - a guy with a tiny tomahawk |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Little Hawk Date: 06 Apr 06 - 07:10 PM I favour the bow and arrow or the spear, not the tomahawk. Spaw is short for "spawn", yes....spawn of Cthulhu! |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Big Al Whittle Date: 06 Apr 06 - 07:23 PM Bert - bert Jansch Martin Gibson - the guy in the old Gibson advert 'subtle is the mood of folk music' he's got a stool and a nylon strung instrument on a stand caspaw - a tabby Bobert- wayne Newton singing waiting for the Robert E Lee Little hawk - bird of prey landing on a large mouse Number 6 - thats a blue white and gold packet of twenty fags that I used to buy in 1960's, they were four bob. Jeri - Mick Jagger's blond katlaughing - Dave Katz or someone else who was on the old blues project alum Metchosin -obscure branch of metallurgy Liz the Squeak - like the queen, but younger and more sexy CarolC - 60's journalist Caroline Coon Ardmacha - Tommy Makem |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Donuel Date: 06 Apr 06 - 07:40 PM My reaction to your Mudcat monier is like Smoking hash from a pumpkin and thinking of Thanksgiving. A difficult trick to turn… especially around the holidays. Waiter, there's a fly in my soup! I say "let him eat!" There's more then one way to skin a cat! …but the other eight methods aren't being taught in schools! And those books aren't cheap, damn it! I'm here for learn'n. The early bird gets the worm! …yet, nobody seems to notice that the early worm gets eaten!! At least it's never addressed… sun gazing as it were… and only rats are winning rat races…it's fixed… saving their pennies and stitching their petticoats! It was never explained to me with any satisfactory… my lessons didn't cover that! It's a good thing that bees aren't the size of barn owls! It's a damn good thing! I'd be awfully nervous at picnics. Bugs are terribly upset with us. If children aren't allowed to smoke… Especially at school…why is that the first thing Your forced to make in art class is a ceramic ashtray??!! Damn confusing signals. Yogurt has an active living culture… yet I'm forced to put up with strip clubs and those annoying shops that sell nothing but baskets! Nobody complains - I'm certain the majority has been infected! I see these arcane baskets everywhere now. My brother's wife has a basket for the television remote! A little remote basket!! I'm certain they're on to me - there's few I trust with this! I'm on the lookout. It's a bloodless basket cult that I'm sure are responsible for all of those heartless paintings of geese flying over water, and all of those covered bridges! Bob Ross was involved I'm certain! You show my a Lady Diana commemorative plate, and I'll bet there's a damn basket within 5 feet of it! They show at your door, early, on your day off… grinning…asking if you'd like to learn to make baskets right in the privacy of your home. Become one of the few, the proud, the basket brigade! I know what their up to. Once I was at Union Station, Just killing time for the Antioch 5:45 When somewhere among the unending surges, Of the infinite hordes of gainfully employed - Moving smoothly and rudely from the cattle cars, To the bright blinding glare of commercialism… I distinctly heard a low "MOO" Never a native…I ambled forward, Just this side of the people aquarium, Until, I too surfaced… The prime material plane. Somewhere in the phallic metropolis - Lounging gaggles of busy street birds The city buzz and the impressive asphalt grid, The ceaseless swath of dull yellow taxis And the sweet smell of the chocolate factory Like the lingering scent of a child's burp. But details faded outside my peripherals, Making room for the slow rendering images, And high ended bitmaps…and JPEGS… …Outside the horizons of my spheres of influence. One hell of a trick, 700 dots per square inch. How thorough…but, They're not fooling me like they used to. Hell…didn't I see that cloud bank the day before yesterday? And there's something familiar about those strays. Is this urban static a sound loop looping? Those waiters look suspiciously flat… Was that a bar code on his lapel? Can synchronicity be explained away By the eyeball in my system tray? Is that butterfly a government spy? Such a convenient biology. I rush across the street… I pick up a pay phone and shout PLUTONIUM! PRESIDENTAL SLUDGE! FISHER SALAD!! PHOTOSHOP! And wait for the squad cars and armored soldiers, Who flog and cuff me and toss my dangerous form, Into the back of an Amway truck. I know too much! Some hours later - Lobotomized and grinning, I saunter out of the Pentagon wearing an embroidered patch, That coldly tags me as "Camus Absurd Man" 700 dots per square inch. The cicadas were warming up their instruments as echoes of "last call" were ebbing in the canyons, behind every crooked smiling window tooth, grinning the moon glow collective… Eight miles north of a camp site in Quebec, Big Foot was pissing in the bushes and softly whistling a Scott Joplin tune in F#… seems it was a favorite of the Pharaohs. In Denny's diners from every horse post and paved deer trail on the planet, creatures of almost subhuman bearing were filing in. "Moons over My'Hammy"…smoking please. Whores were shutting the doors behind drunken conventioneers… Pillowed mints already tasted. On some road outside of Sharpsville a fiber optics peddler was snorting coke and wishing he looked better naked. Police were breaking down a door in Tampa… 3 dead in a domestic tif. Somewhere in Rossville a farmer's wife was making coffee while an Andromedian Spacecraft hovered silently above the corn, microwaving circled glyphs for the crop-dusters to marvel over. A recently divorced woman in Jersey was check'n her e-mail and cruising a Bi-curious chat room…cordless in tow, while a tuna boat was trolling over an observant giant squid. It was on. Free will was ebbing on the pre-dawn foam… washing in on the rhythmic ripples of all that other free will in a sea of wills that couldn't hold their own alone. Good morning Earth… I ain't sleepy 'no' more. It's true I'd like to walk the Earth - Tread the full circle in a lazy stride Unshaven Unwashed Not minding my own filth And the stink of my own breath Never-minding that my sight is slowly fading As my footsteps vanish behind me I'd feed a deer an apple right out of my hand And sleep in the darkness of a cougar's cave Throw stones and shadow fence with fallen branches Cry out loud and sing to the migrating Monarchs And whisper secrets to the bare earth beneath me I'd ride atop a coal car and smoke fresh marijuana from a coke can Stay up for days in a daze Dodging and hiding…teaching myself to whistle Mississippi Queen To the moon frogs and night beams Scratch myself raw and walk on all fours Ignore the collective consciousness Talk openly to Gods And masturbate right in front of them I'd sneak into the farmers house and swipe all the labels from his canned goods Leaf through his Max Brand western novels and pet his dog I'd navigate by starlight Map the earth with my shoes Walk all the way to Italy Holding my breath and waving at Poseidon Tell him not to look so glum He looks good in green…"stop your bitching" I'd collect pixie dust in a fishing net And blow it into the open windows of sleeping children's rooms Turn over a large flat stone and count the spider eggs and magic Sal Bugs Sit on a thick Sycamore limb and swing my legs Play nine pins with the forest folk Unslip the moist restraints of my fragile mind in a long fine curve I'd become meat I'd become the quick blooded beat I'd be ripe and randy Be sick and soaked to my knees in selfish swallows Be greedy and smooth Be ready but wait Be an animal God and court mother nature with a fresh bouquet of bright puffy weeds Get down to some serious cloud busting Get a full body tattoo of myself…only larger And parade my naked ass through the silent sleepy streets Wear a bright red fiber-glass jock strap and a jet black wig Hand out photo copies of my birth certificate to blind broom makers and elder barbers Snore loudly from the filthy floors of bus station bathrooms Scrawl my private journal on restaurant napkins with a ball point pen Dissect the human condition with a soup spoon Protest the senseless waste of time Protest the preoccupation of time Make myself available once a week to vomit outside Chinese buffets While astride a speeding shopping cart shouting…"I am king-shit of fuck mountain" Wear a Lone Ranger costume and shoot blanks at passing motorists I'd breathe easily through a snorkel…everywhere I went Sell my semen, my blood, and donate all my organs to science But I'm keeping my skull damn it…it's just too fucking cool I'd live in a waking dream…unable to run for shit, but flying like a bird Walking right through walls and making little sense of the printed word Phone in anonymous bomb threats to telephone psychics Sure… I'd like to walk the Earth I'd like to perform live at my own funeral I'd like to avoid my unpredictable doom I'd like to know why it's not polite to eat the bride and groom on a wedding cake Or play an accordion during a somber wake Or storm the pentagon with torches and farm implements I'd relocate to a new shadow I'd step lively Or simply…eat Coco-puffs and watch cartoons Hey Osiris!…go back and walk Pop's slamming his hand in the fork drawer…screaming. There's the next ( week's fickle ) flavor of the month! Miss Teen pop star popping diet pills…pop. Popping up on a two page spread…beaded sweat and soda ( pop ). Hand in her panties, selling toothpaste…pop… while the skulking thought police set their snares, Pop goes my culture right under my nose. I never wanted the Mickey Mouse Club To become a breeding stable…for the next lolita heavy weight champ of soft porn corn. Pop corn porn…candied apples and sun screen tan lines. That peck, peck, pecking didn't seem like much… yet, over years it ate clean through the bone, bones bleeding. Pop! Something to do with the sun's lack of mystery… it was no longer charming to throw stones at it…screaming. Popping Fresh, Pop-ups, pop the iron lung…pop my reptilian core. Pop me until I can't feel my arms. Pop me until I shuffle like a corpse beneath the blinding light of pop sun shopping malls…dragging my cold dead arms. Peel my urban husk…unzip my membrane, raw… let all that urban static blink me strobe, strobe blinking into the neon nexus of blissful lobotomized butterfly milk. Got Pop? Let me ride astride the astral molasses! Set me to slow roast on the bare horizon… and in a breathtaking glimpse of one infallible purpose, martyr myself in a tight viscous pupa… no more confusing then clay. …just let me wake up… discover that I was my own god dreaming… that the whole of this mess was just a grand example of full scale multi-tasking of my buried consciousness. Blame me. Pop! Make me stand in the corner and think about it. Pop! Make me go back and walk. Pop! Tell me that I can't go out and play until I've eaten everything on my plate. Make me walk out and get my own switch… And make me watch while you trim the leaves off. Pop! Make me hold my ankles and bend over…tight lipped…waiting. Pop! Stripe my ass with scolding red penance. I'll still love you. I'm Glob-Stop-McPop Top! I sang in seven flavors. If all your taste was in your mouth… You didn't bitch about getting sick. Pop! You always asked for seconds…hell, you waited for seconds! You didn't mind it that your favorite musician doesn't even play an instrument! So long as they tasted good, Charlie Tuna! Your day dreams were pop dreams… Your monicer a brand name of desire. |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: JohnInKansas Date: 06 Apr 06 - 07:41 PM I think I've mentioned before that I did not have the opportunity to choose my own mudcat name. It was done to me as a "favor(?)" by someone else. I did give some thought to the appropriateness immediately on hearing how I was to known, and always suspected that most people would thing of: @$#%$^* or ^$%#$@! or *&(^!#@ Should this be, my favorite perhaps is: *^%^$%@#)+! John |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Joybell Date: 06 Apr 06 - 08:08 PM That makes you "number 39" then John? If my method and my arithmetic is correct. Cheers, Joyofthebelles. |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Metchosin Date: 06 Apr 06 - 08:39 PM Now I remember, Glubdubdribb and Brobdingnag, that's what I think of with Bunnahabhain's moniker. |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Rustic Rebel Date: 06 Apr 06 - 09:53 PM Donuel-A Brilliant Writer! Donuel that was my kind of read. Thanks for posting that. Excellent! |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Once Famous Date: 06 Apr 06 - 10:34 PM Guest, Minstel of the Dawn, I am far from unhappy! You are just pissed off because I referred to you as Menstrual of the Dawn and many got a kick out of it, even Art Theime! I can't be unhappy with all of the clever joy that I bring to this place. I picture you with a lute in a jester's hat. As in dated. |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: GUEST,Minstrel of the Dawn Date: 06 Apr 06 - 10:58 PM Can't keep from lashing back, eh? Very unhappy! Tiny, sick little ego. Hung up on bodily secretions, too. Sad. |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Desert Dancer Date: 06 Apr 06 - 11:16 PM Someone once PM'd me asking about my moniker and then expressed disappointment at the prosaic explanation. (I contra dance, I live in the desert.) Never called or wrote again. :-( Some of my best friends are belly dancers, though... ~ Becky in Tucson that's the Sonoran Desert |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Big Al Whittle Date: 08 Apr 06 - 04:43 AM whats a contra dancer, I thought they were guerillas. in south america. |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Bill D Date: 08 Apr 06 - 12:08 PM you confuse them with 'contra dunces' from Nicaragua. |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Desert Dancer Date: 08 Apr 06 - 12:38 PM If you really want to know... click here. Politics addressed in para. #4. In recent years I usually find it less necessary to include that disclaimer. ;-) ~ B in T |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Big Al Whittle Date: 08 Apr 06 - 01:20 PM oh |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Liz the Squeak Date: 08 Apr 06 - 04:47 PM Ah, Weelittledrummer... how well you know me..I am indeed, just like the Queen but much younger and some would say definately sexier.... LTS |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Once Famous Date: 08 Apr 06 - 07:31 PM Minstrel, it's not at all sad. It's just retaliation for something YOU started here in this thread, not me, so stop your sniveling and whining, please beczause you are damn right I am going to lash back at your cowardly remark. I am hung up on nothing, pal. Anyone who calls himself with a monicker like yours is got the problems. Minstrel of the Dawn. What a laugh. Gordon Lightfoot you are certainly not. |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Alice Date: 08 Apr 06 - 08:45 PM Joe Offer - a man who looks like Steve Martin standing next to a lighthouse... oh, wait, I think that's because I've seen Joe Offer's photo! |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Bert Date: 09 Apr 06 - 02:38 AM Ah Alice, but I've seen Joe wearing a flower pot hat, standing on one leg, arms outstretched entertaining kids around a campfire. |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Liz the Squeak Date: 09 Apr 06 - 09:14 AM I think the Queen may have slightly fatter arse than I do, but she has a better tailor. LTS |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: Rapparee Date: 09 Apr 06 - 10:39 AM I don't think, LtS, that the queen (we called her Liz the Diz when she danced on tables back in college days) could look better than you in a bikini. |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: GUEST,Minstrel of the Dawn Date: 09 Apr 06 - 12:51 PM God, Martin, you are so pathetic! |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: autolycus Date: 09 Apr 06 - 01:24 PM Aussiebloke. A nice chap who said hello when i joined. Azizi. A " lady " " " " " " Bert. " chap who, hang on, have I got the idea wrong? Well, it's one RESPONSE, anyway. weelittledrummer a small scottish drummer. severn a wise river. Art Thieme a dutch postmodern painter. Gnu someone thought up by Flanders and Swan, small and clever leadfingers a failed burlgar (no offence meant.L) Peace a wise native american Azizi an exotic dancer (PLEASE forgive me,I'm a mad Cancerian) Flamenco Ted hmm no clues there. Rapaire a tailor who can't spell Artbrooks a down=to=earth artist. Liz the Squeak a cheeky, grinning mouse. Ivor |
Subject: RE: BS: Reaction to Mudcat Monikers From: GUEST,Minstrel of the Dawn Date: 09 Apr 06 - 02:17 PM Nothing to deal with, dipshit. You're about nine cards short of a full deck. You are your own biggest problem. Goodbye. I'm going to go talk to some humans. |