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BS: The Mother of all BS threads

Eiseley 13 Oct 10 - 12:05 AM
Amos 12 Oct 10 - 08:39 PM
Amos 12 Oct 10 - 07:56 PM
gnu 12 Oct 10 - 07:30 PM
Rapparee 12 Oct 10 - 06:11 PM
Amos 12 Oct 10 - 03:39 PM
Little Hawk 12 Oct 10 - 03:33 PM
Amos 12 Oct 10 - 03:23 PM
Amos 12 Oct 10 - 02:33 PM
Little Hawk 12 Oct 10 - 02:11 PM
Rapparee 12 Oct 10 - 01:42 PM
Amos 12 Oct 10 - 01:28 PM
Little Hawk 12 Oct 10 - 12:12 PM
Rapparee 12 Oct 10 - 12:11 PM
Rapparee 12 Oct 10 - 11:23 AM
Little Hawk 11 Oct 10 - 11:38 PM
Rapparee 11 Oct 10 - 11:13 PM
Amos 11 Oct 10 - 11:12 PM
Acme 11 Oct 10 - 10:58 PM
Rapparee 11 Oct 10 - 09:16 PM
Amos 11 Oct 10 - 08:59 PM
Amos 11 Oct 10 - 07:14 PM
Rapparee 11 Oct 10 - 06:03 PM
Little Hawk 11 Oct 10 - 01:23 PM
Amos 11 Oct 10 - 01:07 PM
Amos 11 Oct 10 - 12:44 PM
Eiseley 11 Oct 10 - 12:29 PM
Little Hawk 11 Oct 10 - 11:25 AM
Rapparee 11 Oct 10 - 10:58 AM
Amos 11 Oct 10 - 10:50 AM
Rapparee 11 Oct 10 - 10:37 AM
Little Hawk 11 Oct 10 - 10:14 AM
Amos 11 Oct 10 - 09:25 AM
Eiseley 11 Oct 10 - 12:03 AM
Rapparee 10 Oct 10 - 11:27 PM
Amos 10 Oct 10 - 07:29 PM
Amos 10 Oct 10 - 07:08 PM
Acme 10 Oct 10 - 06:03 PM
Rapparee 10 Oct 10 - 05:59 PM
Eiseley 10 Oct 10 - 05:04 PM
Little Hawk 10 Oct 10 - 04:34 PM
Acme 10 Oct 10 - 04:20 PM
Amos 10 Oct 10 - 02:26 PM
Rapparee 10 Oct 10 - 12:13 PM
Amos 10 Oct 10 - 11:29 AM
gnu 10 Oct 10 - 11:17 AM
Acme 10 Oct 10 - 11:03 AM
Little Hawk 10 Oct 10 - 10:40 AM
Little Hawk 10 Oct 10 - 10:27 AM
Amos 09 Oct 10 - 09:58 PM
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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Eiseley
Date: 13 Oct 10 - 12:05 AM

Oh, I kind of like the cut and paste poetry. It's a reminder that there is such stuff in the world. But the Buzz-Saw one is just so sad. I could go another few Kay without reading it again.

Eiseley


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 12 Oct 10 - 08:39 PM

Come and walk a way with me
And we shall inspiration seek
Beyond the edge of morning spree
And over the top of other-week.
Under the shadows, past the trees
Behind the back of Lazy Day,
Let us go ramble, you and I
In quest of thirty-eight of Kay.

Speak not the maundering tongues of man
Nor whisper in their bellied creed
And rattle not the blatherskite
That he shall rest, no sounds to bleed.
Treadle the winsome sunlit ray
Where neither boast nor brag await
And if we creep as soft as day
We may behold the Thirty-eight.

For Kays are not bumptious, harsh or large
Kays whisper in and lissome pass
And splashing like a river-barge,
Will send the Kay far from your grasp!
They blithely fit and dolorous hide
And lightly on the Mayhap skate
So grace and silence name your tunes
If you would find the Thirty-Eight.

A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 12 Oct 10 - 07:56 PM

Boo!!! Hissss!! Discordant obfuscation is bad enough when it is happenstance, but tis is born of the grossest intentionality. Go to, fie, aroint!!


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 12 Oct 10 - 07:30 PM

All that cut and paste is enough to make me not bother with this thread again, as I did some thousands of post ago.

If ya got nothin ta say, don' say it. Geeze oh eh?

I mean, it's the real Mudchat these days. Don't ruin it.

Your mileage may vary. Have fun with it.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 12 Oct 10 - 06:11 PM

What? You don't like Milton? You want all of "Paradise Lost" and "Paradise Regained" maybe? "Areopagitica"? "Artis logicae plenior institutio"?

Well, okay. I know! Dante Alighieri:

Al poco giorno e al gran cerchio d'ombra
son giunto, lasso! ed al bianchir de' colli,
quando si perde lo color ne l'erba:
e 'l mio disio per non cangia 'l verde,
s barbato ne la dura petra
che parla e sente come fosse donna.

Similmente questa nova donna
si sta gelata come neve a l'ombra;
ch non la move, se non come petra,
il dolce tempo che riscalda i colli,
e che li fa tornar di bianco in verde
perch li copre di fioretti e d'erba.

Quand'ella ha in testa una ghirlanda d'erba,
trae de la mente nostra ogn'altra donna;
perch si mischia il crespo giallo e 'l verde
s bel, ch'Amor l viene a stare a l'ombra,
che m'ha serrato intra piccioli colli
pi forte assai che la calcina petra.

La sua bellezza ha pi vert che petra,
e 'l colpo suo non pu sanar per erba;
ch'io son fuggito per piani e per colli,
per potere scampar da cotal donna;
e dal suo lume non mi pu far ombra
poggio n muro mai n fronda verde.

Io l'ho veduta gi vestita a verde,
s fatta ch'ella avrebbe messo in petra
l'amor ch'io porto pur a la sua ombra:
ond'io l'ho chesta in un bel prato d'erba,
innamorata com'anco fu donna,
e chiuso intorno d'altissimi colli.

Ma ben ritorneranno i fiumi a' colli,
prima che questo legno molle e verde
s'infiammi, come suol far bella donna,
di me; che mi torrei dormire in petra
tutto il mio tempo e gir pascendo l'erba,
sol per veder do' suol parmi fanno ombra.

Quandunque i colli fanno pi nera ombra,
sotto un bel verde la giovane donna
la fa sparer, com'uom petra sott'erba.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 12 Oct 10 - 03:39 PM

And with that fillip of good mind
Hawk gives us thirty-seven nine
Which means we are 100 posts away
From glory and the THirty EIght of Kay!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 12 Oct 10 - 03:33 PM

Aye, death never was, but life stands proud and triumphant.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 12 Oct 10 - 03:23 PM

THERE is no dusk to be,
There is no dawn that was,
Only there's now, and now,
And the wind in the grass.

Days I remember of
Now in my heart, are now;
Days that I dream will bloom
White the peach bough.

Dying shall never be
Now in the windy grass;
Now under shooken leaves
Death never was.

Archie MacLeish


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 12 Oct 10 - 02:33 PM

Deluging us with the lugubrious tediosities of John Milton is no favor, goode Sirre!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 12 Oct 10 - 02:11 PM

WTF???????

Boy, you must have a ton of time on your hands, my good man. ;-)

Or was that a block-and-paste?


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 12 Oct 10 - 01:42 PM

Hence loathed Melancholy,
Of Cerberus, and blackest Midnight born,
In Stygian cave forlorn,
      'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy;
Find out some uncouth cell,
      Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings,
And the night-raven sings;
      There under ebon shades, and low-brow'd rocks,
As ragged as thy locks,
      In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell.
But come thou goddess fair and free,
In heav'n yclep'd Euphrosyne,
And by men, heart-easing Mirth,
Whom lovely Venus at a birth
With two sister Graces more
To Ivy-crowned Bacchus bore;
Or whether (as some sager sing)
The frolic wind that breathes the spring,
Zephyr, with Aurora playing,
As he met her once a-Maying,
There on beds of violets blue,
And fresh-blown roses wash'd in dew,
Fill'd her with thee, a daughter fair,
So buxom, blithe, and debonair.
Haste thee nymph, and bring with thee
Jest and youthful Jollity,
Quips and cranks, and wanton wiles,
Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles,
Such as hang on Hebe's cheek,
And love to live in dimple sleek;
Sport that wrinkled Care derides,
And Laughter holding both his sides.
Come, and trip it as ye go
On the light fantastic toe,
And in thy right hand lead with thee,
The mountain-nymph, sweet Liberty;
And if I give thee honour due,
Mirth, admit me of thy crew
To live with her, and live with thee,
In unreproved pleasures free;
To hear the lark begin his flight,
And singing startle the dull night,
From his watch-tower in the skies,
Till the dappled dawn doth rise;
Then to come in spite of sorrow,
And at my window bid good-morrow,
Through the sweet-briar, or the vine,
Or the twisted eglantine;
While the cock with lively din,
Scatters the rear of darkness thin,
And to the stack, or the barn door,
Stoutly struts his dames before;
Oft list'ning how the hounds and horn
Cheerly rouse the slumb'ring morn,
From the side of some hoar hill,
Through the high wood echoing shrill.
Sometime walking, not unseen,
By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green,
Right against the eastern gate,
Where the great Sun begins his state,
Rob'd in flames, and amber light,
The clouds in thousand liveries dight.
While the ploughman near at hand,
Whistles o'er the furrow'd land,
And the milkmaid singeth blithe,
And the mower whets his scythe,
And every shepherd tells his tale
Under the hawthorn in the dale.
Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures
Whilst the landskip round it measures,
Russet lawns, and fallows gray,
Where the nibbling flocks do stray;
Mountains on whose barren breast
The labouring clouds do often rest;
Meadows trim with daisies pied,
Shallow brooks, and rivers wide.
Towers, and battlements it sees
Bosom'd high in tufted trees,
Where perhaps some beauty lies,
The cynosure of neighbouring eyes.
Hard by, a cottage chimney smokes,
From betwixt two aged oaks,
Where Corydon and Thyrsis met,
Are at their savoury dinner set
Of herbs, and other country messes,
Which the neat-handed Phyllis dresses;
And then in haste her bow'r she leaves,
With Thestylis to bind the sheaves;
Or if the earlier season lead
To the tann'd haycock in the mead.
Sometimes with secure delight
The upland hamlets will invite,
When the merry bells ring round,
And the jocund rebecks sound
To many a youth, and many a maid,
Dancing in the chequer'd shade;
And young and old come forth to play
On a sunshine holiday,
Till the live-long daylight fail;
Then to the spicy nut-brown ale,
With stories told of many a feat,
How Faery Mab the junkets eat,
She was pinch'd and pull'd she said,
And he by friar's lanthorn led,
Tells how the drudging goblin sweat,
To earn his cream-bowl duly set,
When in one night, ere glimpse of morn,
His shadowy flail hath thresh'd the corn
That ten day-labourers could not end;
Then lies him down, the lubber fiend,
And stretch'd out all the chimney's length,
Basks at the fire his hairy strength;
And crop-full out of doors he flings,
Ere the first cock his matin rings.
Thus done the tales, to bed they creep,
By whispering winds soon lull'd asleep.
Tower'd cities please us then,
And the busy hum of men,
Where throngs of knights and barons bold,
In weeds of peace high triumphs hold,
With store of ladies, whose bright eyes
Rain influence, and judge the prize
Of wit, or arms, while both contend
To win her grace, whom all commend.
There let Hymen oft appear
In saffron robe, with taper clear,
And pomp, and feast, and revelry,
With mask, and antique pageantry;
Such sights as youthful poets dream
On summer eves by haunted stream.
Then to the well-trod stage anon,
If Jonson's learned sock be on,
Or sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's child,
Warble his native wood-notes wild.
And ever against eating cares,
Lap me in soft Lydian airs,
Married to immortal verse,
Such as the meeting soul may pierce
In notes with many a winding bout
Of linked sweetness long drawn out,
With wanton heed, and giddy cunning,
The melting voice through mazes running,
Untwisting all the chains that tie
The hidden soul of harmony;
That Orpheus' self may heave his head
From golden slumber on a bed
Of heap'd Elysian flow'rs, and hear
Such strains as would have won the ear
Of Pluto, to have quite set free
His half-regain'd Eurydice.
These delights if thou canst give,
Mirth, with thee I mean to live.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 12 Oct 10 - 01:28 PM

Where I may sit and rightly spell
Of every Star that heav'n doth shew,
And every Herb that sips the dew;
Till old experience do attain
To something like Prophetic strain.
These pleasures of Melancholy give,
And I with thee will choose to live.


Geeze, Mister D. Retirement is a bitch, huh? LOL!!

I KNOW that was not from a television show, unless it was the Hallmark Theater.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaandd Beedlebauuum".

"Goodnight, Mrs McGilicuddy, wherever you are..."

"And that's the way it is...".

"Goodnight Chet. Goodnight, Hunt."

"Heeeeeeeeeeere's JOHNNY!"

"Take my wife...please."

We really are in severe regression now; our hopes of regaining some tenuous relationship with present time are dimming rapidly. But it is possible we just don't care, being rowdy souls who are as happy to gallop through the sun-dappled trails of the Long Ago as to bend to the oars of the present moment's storm-tossed boats.


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 12 Oct 10 - 12:12 PM

"77...Sunset Strip (Boomp! Boomp!) 77...Sunset Strip!"

"To boldly go where no man has gone before!"

"And now....HERE'S......................"

"On with the show, this is it!"


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 12 Oct 10 - 12:11 PM

HENCE vain deluding joyes,
    The brood of folly without father bred,
How little you bested,
    Or fill the fixd mind with all your toyes;
Dwell in some idle brain,
    And fancies fond with gaudy shapes possess,
As thick and numberless
    As the gay motes that poeple the Sun Beams,
Or likest hovering dreams
    The fickle Pensioners of Morpheus train.
But hail thou Goddess, sage and holy,
    Hail divinest Melancholy,
Whose Saintly visage is too bright
To hit the Sense of human sight;
And therefore to our weaker view,
Ore laid with black staid Wisdoms hue.
Black, but such as in esteem,
Prince Memnons sister might beseem,
Or that starr'd Ethiope Queen that strove
To set her beauties praise above
The Sea Nymphs, and their powers offended,
Yet thou art higher far descended,
Thee bright-hair'd Vesta long of yore,
To solitary Saturn bore;
His daughter she (in Saturns raign,
Such mixture was not held a stain)
Oft in glimmering Bowres, and glades
He met her, and in secret shades
Of woody Ida's inmost grove,
While yet there was no fear of Jove.
Com pensive Nun, devout and pure,
Sober, stedfast, and demure,
All in a robe of darkest grain,
Flowing with majestick train,
And sable stole of Cipres Lawn,
Over thy decent shoulders drawn.
Com, but keep thy wonted state,
With eev'n step, and musing gate,
And looks commercing with the skies,
Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes:
There held in holy passion still,
Forget thy self to Marble, till
With a sad Leaden downward cast,
Thou fix them on the earth as fast.
And joyn with thee calm Peace, and Quiet,
Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet,
And hears the Muses in a ring,
Ay round about Joves Altar sing.
And adde to these retired leasure,
That in trim Gardens takes his pleasure;
But first, and chiefest, with thee bring,
Him that yon soars on golden wing,
Guiding the fiery-wheeled throne,
The Cherub Contemplation,
And the mute Silence hist along,
Less Philomel will deign a Song,
In her sweetest, saddest plight,
Smoothing the rugged brow of night,
While Cynthia checks her Dragon yoke,
Gently o're th' accustomed Oke;
Sweet Bird that shunn'st the noise of folly,
Most musical, most Melancholy!
Thee Chauntress oft the Woods among,
I woo to hear thy Even-Song;
And missing thee, I walk unseen
On the dry smooth-shaven Green,
To behold the wandring Moon,
Riding neer her highest noon,
Like one that had bin led astray
Through the Heav'ns wide pathles way;
And oft, as if her head she bow'd,
Stooping through a fleecy cloud.
Oft on a Plat of rising ground,
I hear the far-off Curfeu sound,
Over some wide-water'd shoar,
Swinging slow with sullen roar;
Or if the Ayr will not permit,
Som still removed place will fit,
Where glowing Embers through the room
Teach light to counterfeit a gloom,
Far from all resort of mirth,
Save the Cricket on the hearth,
Or the Belmans drowsie charm
To bless the dores from nightly harm:
Or let my Lamp at midnight hour,
Be seen in some high lonely Towr,
Where I may oft out-watch the Bear,
With thrice great Hermes, or unsphear
The spirit of Plato to unfold
What Worlds, or what vast Regions hold
The immortal mind that hath forsook
Her mansion in this fleshly nook:
And of those Daemons that are found
In fire, air, flood, or under ground,
Whose power hath a true consent
With Planet, or with Element.
Som time let Gorgeous Tragedy
In Scepter'd Pall com sweeping by,
Presenting Thebs, or Pelops line,
Or the tale of Troy divine.
Or what (though rare) of later age,
Ennobled hath the Buskind stage.
But, O sad Virgin, that thy power
Might raise Musaeus from his bower,
Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing
Such notes as warbled to the string,
Drew Iron tears down Pluto's cheek,
And made Hell grant what Love did seek.
Or call up him that left half told
The story of Cambuscan bold,
Of Camball, and of Algarsife,
And who had Canace to wife,
That own'd the vertuous Ring and Glass,
And of the wondrous Hors of Brass,
On which the Tartar King did ride.
And if ought els, great Bards beside,
In sage and solemn tunes have sung,
Of Turneys and of Trophies hung;
Of Forests, and inchantments drear,
Where more is meant then meets the ear.
Thus night oft see me in thy pale career,
Till civil-suitd Morn appeer,
Not trickt and frounc't as she was wont,
With the Attick Boy to hunt,
But Cherchef't in a comely Cloud,
While rocking Winds are Piping loud,
Or usher'd with a shower still,
When the gust hath blown his fill,
Ending on the russling Leaves,
With minute drops from off the Eaves.
And when the Sun begins to fling
His flaring beams, me Goddess bring
To archd walks of twilight groves,
And shadows brown that Sylvan loves
Of Pine, or monumental Oake,
Where the rude Ax with heaved stroke
Was never heard the Nymphs to daunt,
Or fright them from their hallow'd haunt.
There in close covert by some Brook,
Where no prophaner eye may look,
Hide me from Day's garish eie,
While the Bee with Honied thie,
That at her flowry work doth sing,
And the Waters murmuring
With such consort as they keep,
Entice the dewy-feather'd Sleep;
And let some strange mysterious dream,
Wave at his Wings in Airy stream,
Of lively portrature display'd,
Softly on my eye-lids laid.
And as I wake, sweek musick breath
Above, about, or underneath,
Sent by som spirit to mortals good,
Or th'unseen Genius of the Wood.
But let my due feet never fail,
To walk the studious Cloysters pale.
And love the high embowed Roof,
With antick Pillars massy proof,
And storied Windows richly dight,
Casting a dimm religious light.
There let the pealing Organ blow,
To the full voic'd Quire below,
In Service high, and Anthems cleer,
As may with sweetness, through mine ear,
Dissovle me into extasies,
And bring all Heav'n before mine eyes.
And may at last my weary age
Find out the peacefull hermitage,
The Hairy Gown and Mossy Cell,
Where I may sit and rightly spell
Of every Star that heav'n doth shew,
And every Herb that sips the dew;
Till old experience do attain
To something like Prophetic strain.
These pleasures of Melancholy give,
And I with thee will choose to live.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 12 Oct 10 - 11:23 AM

Winky Dink and you
Winky Dink and me
We are pals
Through fair and stormy weather!
Presto, change-o,
That's a think of the past!
Wink-o, wink-o
Works twice a fast!
Winky Dink and you
Winky Dink and me!

Move 'em on, head 'em up,
Head 'em up, move 'em out,
Move 'em on, head 'em out Rawhide!
Set 'em out, ride 'em in
Ride 'em in, let 'em out,
Cut 'em out, ride 'em in Rawhide.

Josie and the Pussycats
Long tails and and ears for hats
Guitars and sharps and flats
Neat, sweet, a groovy song
You're invited, come along.

Love, exciting and new
Come Aboard. We're expecting you.
Love, life's sweetest reward.
Let it flow, it floats back to you.

Out of the night,
When the full moon is bright,
Comes the horseman known as Zorro.
This bold renegade
Carves a "Z" with his blade,
A "Z" that stands for Zorro.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 11 Oct 10 - 11:38 PM

"HERE I COME TO SAVE THE DAY!" tells you that....

"Sufferin' Succotash!!!!"

"BOY! I say, BOY!!! Are you LISSENIN' to me, BOY?"

"Eh....what's up, Doc?"

"B-dee...B-dee...th-that's all, folks!"

"But, Yo-giiiiii!"

"That dadwatted, wascally wabbit!"

"Ooooooo...I tawt I taw a puddy tat!"

"&%!@###$%$!!!" (Donald Duck)

"I yam what I yam and that's all that I yam!"

"My strength is as the strenght of ten, because my heart is pure."

"Curses! Foiled again!!!"

"Beep! Beep!"

"WILLLLL-MAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!"

"AYYYY-DRIENNNNNE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 11 Oct 10 - 11:13 PM

Half a loaf is better than none. If wishes were horses beggars would ride. A cat can look at a queen. Ask not for whom the bell tolls. The guard dies but never surrenders. Requiescat In Pace. The race is not always to the swift. All that glisters is not gold. Better a hovel with love than a castle without. Honi soit qui mal y pense. Take all you want, but eat all you take. There is nothing like a dame. Man proposes, but God disposes. The best laid plans of mice and men gang oft a-glee. Laugh and the world laughs with you; cry and you cry alone. Give me some men who are stout-hearted men and I'll soon give you ten thousand more. Be prepared. Lightning never strikes twice in the same place.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 11 Oct 10 - 11:12 PM

Wow! Great idea, Still!! On my wish list!! :D


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 11 Oct 10 - 10:58 PM

Amos, Mudcatter Alice has a t-shirt transfer design just for you:

It Was a Dark And Stormy Night.

$5 well spent.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 11 Oct 10 - 09:16 PM

In brightest day
In darkest night
No Evil shall escape
Green Lantern's might!

SHAZAAM!!!

Magic words of poof poof piffles
Make me just as small as Sniffles.

Here he comes
Here he comes
Sound the trumpets
Sound the drums
Here he comes!
He's Hopalong Cassidy!
Here he comes!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 11 Oct 10 - 08:59 PM

"Hey kids!! What time is it?"

"...K-E-Y" Why? Because we likeyou
"It's not easy being green."


"Who was that masked man, anyway?"

"A never ending battle for truth, justice, and the American Way!"


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 11 Oct 10 - 07:14 PM

Penny's boyfriend was a jerk anyway, and should have been slapped long since.

Oh and don't forget "M-I-C" and all those ones.


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 11 Oct 10 - 06:03 PM

When you have a problem just throw money at it. Waste not, want not. A Penny pinched is boyfriend slapped. You know what they say. Don't count your chickens before they're hatched. A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. Let sleeping dogs lie. A biting dog doesn't bark. Don't be a flash in the pan. All good things must come to an end. It is better to have loved. Don't go near the water. I like Ike.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 11 Oct 10 - 01:23 PM

So is sex with sheep and donkeys...

Or so I've heard! ;-)


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 11 Oct 10 - 01:07 PM

See, the problem is when you get to be Rapaire's age, you've discovered that ALL stories end in a damn cliche. You've learned why they are cliches. And the race has generated enough of them that they've just about all been invented, and making up new ones is just too much damn work. So you're left in the sorry state you see him in today, the inheritor of all the human race's unoriginal thoughts. And he had so much promise when he was a sprat. Jade is highly overrated.


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 11 Oct 10 - 12:44 PM

He forgot to mention that it was a dark and stormy night. Do I have to remember EVERYTHING around here?

And Eiseley, as usual, is right about the 'tater remarks. Not all Pocatellans see eye to eye to eye to eye to eye...



A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Eiseley
Date: 11 Oct 10 - 12:29 PM

Hey, keep your common-tater remarks to yourself. Not all Idahoans are trite. Some are quite punny.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 11 Oct 10 - 11:25 AM

My God, it's.....it's.....

CLICHE MAN!!!!!!!!!!

A trite phrase for every occasion! A homily for every emergency! An well-worn answer to every question!

Cliche Man! Fighting for truth, justice, and the Idahoan Way!!!!!!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 11 Oct 10 - 10:58 AM

A soft word turneth away wrath. Music hath charms to calm the savage breast. Those who have no history have no future. God is on the side of the big battalions. There's no business like show business. It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Don't change horses in mid-stream. In your heart you know he's right. A stitch in time saves nine. People who live in stone houses shouldn't throw glasses. The guard dies, but never surrenders. Someone had blundered.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 11 Oct 10 - 10:50 AM

Hmmmph. I was just prepared to unleash another indignant volley, too.


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 11 Oct 10 - 10:37 AM

Well, at least you learned it and greatly improved your life expectancy.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 11 Oct 10 - 10:14 AM

Hmm. Rapaire appears to have touched a nerve. How delighted he must be! ;-)


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 11 Oct 10 - 09:25 AM

You tin-eared contrarian solipsist!! I didn't say I had just NOW learned it!! I was merely reciting an example!!


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Eiseley
Date: 11 Oct 10 - 12:03 AM

Yay! I'll get to see those runners in January when I come to visit. Why don't you come too, Stilly? San Diego in January will be so nice.

And a visit with Amos will be even nicer!

Eiseley


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 10 Oct 10 - 11:27 PM

Dadgum, Amos. After all this time you finally learnt sumpun lotsa married men learnt after only a coupla years.

I'll be jiggered.

Will wonders never cease!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 10 Oct 10 - 07:29 PM

Thirty years of married life have taught me the virtues of the bitten tongue, a lesson I am sometimes grateful for.

Today, for example, we had to shop for inexpensive runners to replace the kitchen throws because the old ones were sort of muddy in hue and the wrong shades for the new counters which are sort of dark gray.

So BBW and I go trawling around Home Depot and she zeroes in a matching pair with dark borders and bright colored centers in a set of squares. I am dubious--I think they are too dark-toned and will pull down the tone of the room. But I demur only once and keep my mouth shut thereafter. When we get them home and she rolls them out, she sighs "Oh--they ARE dark, aren't they??". Tar baby say nuffin'. Again, I bite my tongue and don't say "Well, you shoulda lissened to me...".

But we decide to open them up and lay them in place since we have them, and she vows she will take them straight back if they are bad.

Well, something happens when they get into position, and their assertive bright centers suddenly harmonize with the counters and they create a bright center in an otherwise quiet room, color-wise, and brighten the place up quite nicely.

All I said to her was, "I'm glad I kept my mouth shut!".   Twice. And offered thanks for a well-bit tongue.


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 10 Oct 10 - 07:08 PM

"I love the wooshing sound they make as they fly past..."



A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 10 Oct 10 - 06:03 PM

I find deadlines helpful. Writing under pressure is an art, and when I worked a couple of years at a newspaper I really got the hang of it. But it isn't for everyone.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 10 Oct 10 - 05:59 PM

Sure, but if you let it wait under the very last moments you won't be tempted to toss more stuff in than is necessary.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Eiseley
Date: 10 Oct 10 - 05:04 PM

It's not actually due until Tuesday, but . . .


You're right about the better quality of writing if it isn't left until the very last minute. It might dwindle down to the word   stuff.

Eiseley


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 10 Oct 10 - 04:34 PM

Well, there are a few such women around, but their numbers are fortunately very small.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 10 Oct 10 - 04:20 PM

Fortunately, there aren't women's auxiliaries of the same groups. No women would let themselves be eligible for membership.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 10 Oct 10 - 02:26 PM

Sounds like we may have to mobilize the California Decrepit Volunteers to come out there and help them re-organize themselves. Just a fraternal favor, as the numbers of True Brothers decline around the world.



A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 10 Oct 10 - 12:13 PM

Wetting myself, screaming, and throwing tantrums around? What's new about that?

As for obtaining stress, I just go down to the Legion Hovel and hope that the bugs drowned in beer aren't a a biohazard and that the Legionnaires won't suddenly decide to gallop off in all directions at once. They last did that a couple months back, got as much as twenty miles away, and are still drifting back. Some of them are MUCH the worse for the wear and most are wearing the some variation on the fashionably-orange jumpsuit.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 10 Oct 10 - 11:29 AM

Quite....breaking windows and refusing to go to school...


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 10 Oct 10 - 11:17 AM

I still do it.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 10 Oct 10 - 11:03 AM

We seem to be getting close to 38K.

MOM doesn't like it when you start talking about cheating. If you're not careful, she'll start telling the group about what you guys used to do when you were little kids. . .


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 10 Oct 10 - 10:40 AM

Now, if you like stress, Rapaire, here are some neat ways of getting it...

1. Always do everything at the last possible moment. Procrastinate and delay the inevitable by any means possible!

2. Don't pay your bills on time. Better yet, don't pay them at all!

3. Tell lots of lies to people, and try to remember them all clearly so you can invent hundreds of new lies to cover them.

4. Cheat on your wife, your partner, your employer, etc....they'll never find out. ;-)

5. Always speed when driving, use a fuzzbuster, and watch constantly for the cops so you'll see them before they see you.

6. NEVER let another car pass you on the highway! It would be an affront to your manhood.

7. Answer any slight with extreme hostility. Be prepared to use physical violence if people don't agree that you are in the right about something.

8. Be late for ALL your appointments. They'll realize how special you are when you finally arrive.

9. Laugh in the face of danger. Swat teams are not nearly as tough as they make themselves out to be.

;-D


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 10 Oct 10 - 10:27 AM

Indeed. I eventually learned to do that same thing, and BOY, did it ever do away with a lot of stress! Resulted in far better writing too.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 09 Oct 10 - 09:58 PM

WOrked for me. Great minds think alike...


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