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BS: The Mother of all BS threads

Rapparee 19 Aug 16 - 09:58 AM
Little Hawk 18 Aug 16 - 11:54 AM
Bee-dubya-ell 17 Aug 16 - 03:54 PM
gnu 17 Aug 16 - 01:37 PM
Rapparee 17 Aug 16 - 12:43 PM
Amos 17 Aug 16 - 02:30 AM
Bee-dubya-ell 16 Aug 16 - 11:22 PM
Amos 16 Aug 16 - 12:08 AM
Rapparee 15 Aug 16 - 03:18 PM
Little Hawk 15 Aug 16 - 05:19 AM
Amos 15 Aug 16 - 12:21 AM
Little Hawk 14 Aug 16 - 10:13 PM
gnu 14 Aug 16 - 08:55 PM
Little Hawk 14 Aug 16 - 06:32 PM
Amos 14 Aug 16 - 04:04 PM
Little Hawk 14 Aug 16 - 03:19 PM
Rapparee 13 Aug 16 - 09:30 PM
Bee-dubya-ell 13 Aug 16 - 04:28 PM
keberoxu 13 Aug 16 - 03:56 PM
Donuel 13 Aug 16 - 09:58 AM
Little Hawk 12 Aug 16 - 04:48 PM
Bee-dubya-ell 12 Aug 16 - 03:36 PM
Little Hawk 12 Aug 16 - 03:26 PM
keberoxu 12 Aug 16 - 12:18 PM
gnu 11 Aug 16 - 01:55 PM
gnu 11 Aug 16 - 10:37 AM
Bee-dubya-ell 10 Aug 16 - 01:11 PM
Bee-dubya-ell 10 Aug 16 - 08:24 AM
Rapparee 10 Aug 16 - 06:39 AM
gnu 10 Aug 16 - 05:45 AM
Amos 10 Aug 16 - 02:51 AM
Rapparee 09 Aug 16 - 10:06 PM
gnu 09 Aug 16 - 02:49 PM
Rapparee 09 Aug 16 - 10:37 AM
Rapparee 08 Aug 16 - 12:32 PM
Donuel 08 Aug 16 - 12:26 PM
Rapparee 08 Aug 16 - 09:19 AM
Donuel 07 Aug 16 - 06:48 PM
Amos 07 Aug 16 - 12:32 AM
Rapparee 06 Aug 16 - 10:03 AM
Little Hawk 06 Aug 16 - 08:19 AM
Little Hawk 06 Aug 16 - 08:15 AM
Acme 05 Aug 16 - 10:39 PM
Donuel 05 Aug 16 - 05:37 PM
Rapparee 04 Aug 16 - 09:41 PM
Bee-dubya-ell 04 Aug 16 - 09:09 PM
Donuel 04 Aug 16 - 08:23 PM
Rapparee 04 Aug 16 - 09:31 AM
Acme 03 Aug 16 - 11:34 PM
Little Hawk 03 Aug 16 - 09:48 PM
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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 19 Aug 16 - 09:58 AM

It's in the DT. So's this.

I am the very model of computerized Librarian,
I seek out information zoologic to agrarian,
I know each subject that is found in an encyclopedia
I handle every AV tool and every type of media;
My online databases can locate each journal article,
In physics texts, I can define each elemental particle,
In atlases and online maps, I find the way to Timbuktu,
Identify each capital from Bogota to Katmandu.
I navigate the Internet with speed and perspicacity;
Evaluate each website for its content and veracity:
In fact, in finding information, most utilitarian,
I am the very model of computerized librarian.

I quickly search the Internet or grab the right book off the shelf;
Then give the patron answers or I teach him how to search himself,
I speed through every database like Galenet, FirstSearch, Dialog,
My records are all organized, just try my on-line catalog;
My homepage is a marvel of well-documented, helpful links,
It points to sites on modern jazz, hang-gliding and old Egypt's Sphinx!
I know just how to catalog in Dewey and in L. of C.,
I know the best books you should buy and those you wouldn't want for free.
I get you quotes on hot new stocks and find addresses in a trice,
The latest news, a star's birthday, song lyrics or a cure for lice:
In fact, in finding information, most utilitarian,
I am the very model of computerized librarian.

When I can look up online all ephemeral material,
When I can get full text of every page in every serial,
When my computer translates every language and each dialect,
From Hindu texts in Sanskrit to Confucius with each analect,
When every book is digitized and indexed in my database,
When I'm the first librarian to travel into outer space -
And when I've indexed every site on every chromosome and gene,
You'll say a more computerized librarian has never been.
I'm working on an interface directly to the human mind,
So I can capture concepts that have not yet even been defined;
In fact, in finding information, most utilitarian,
I am the very model of computerized librarian.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 18 Aug 16 - 11:54 AM

That was wonderful!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Bee-dubya-ell
Date: 17 Aug 16 - 03:54 PM

An excellent tale indeed. I almost regret that my appointment as Royal Ignorer {ri} compels me to ignore it.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 17 Aug 16 - 01:37 PM

Pretty smart fucker, I'd say. Well read, so to speak.

Loved it!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 17 Aug 16 - 12:43 PM

Oh, some, they like the sailor man
When he comes back to shore,
And some they like the beggar man
That begs from door to door,
And some, they like the soldier man
With his musket and his can,
But my delight can read and write,
He's the bold librarian.

Now, this librarian, he rode out all in the dewy morn,
And he met with the farmer's daughter and loudly he blew his horn.
"Come in my bold librarian, and I'll mek thee a pot of tea.
Me father, and mother have gone to town and there's nobody here but me."

"I have a book for your mother, dear, called, `Love that dare not speak,'
And another for your old father called, `Gunfighters of Mustang Creek,'
But nothing I have for you, my dear," this librarian did say,
"But anything you shall request you shall have it right away."

"OO'," said the farmer's daughter and she glowed all over with fire.
"Is it true you can bring your readers anything they desire?"
"Oh, yes," said the bold librarian, "Oh, yes, indeed I will.
Take me up to your chamber and I'll show you my ... professional skill."

So they went upstairs together and they laid down on the bed,
And he faceted her in every detail from `A' unto `Zed',
'Til he couldn't classify her under maidens anymore.
He said, "Such dynamic service you've never had before."

Now this librarian he arose and he put on all his clothes,
And out of his pocket he drew handfuls of gold,
Saying, "Take this, my dearest Polly, for thee and thy baby.
It really belongs to the Book Fund, but I'll give it all to thee."

Oh come, my bold librarian and won't you marry me?
Oh no, my dearest Polly, such things can never be,
For married I am already to a quiet little thing.
I've a first and second edition and a third coming out in spring.

"But dost tha truly love me?" the farmer's daughter said.
"What d'you mean," said the librarian, "Just because we've been to bed?
In my most high profession love and sex cannot combine,
[spoken]
Because SEX is 612.6 and LOVE, which I classify under virtues not
otherwise accounted for, is 179.9

Come all you pretty fair maids, this warning you must heed;
You must marry some simple ploughboy who can neither write nor read.
For he may be poor and humble, but he'll love you the best he can.
And have naught to do with that roving blade who drives the library van.

And if you should go for your holidays to that village on the border
And you hear a lttle boy cal the cows in alphabetical order
"Come up, Annie and Betty and Connie and...Daisy and Ethel and Fan"
And then you will know it must be the son of the bold librarian.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 17 Aug 16 - 02:30 AM

See Mom jump! Jump, Mom, jump! Jump to the top! Up, up, up! Jump, Mom! Jump!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Bee-dubya-ell
Date: 16 Aug 16 - 11:22 PM

Look! There she goes! Mom jumps from the bottom of the pile to the top with just a few simple keystrokes! Amazing, ain't it?


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 16 Aug 16 - 12:08 AM

Wynona gamble, or lose on a sure thing, the man who says "let it ride" is casting his fate to the fickle forces of the winds.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 15 Aug 16 - 03:18 PM

Amos asks, "Wy?" and LH responds, "Nona yer business!" In the background, cut to the quick by LH's response, Sarah is palin'.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 15 Aug 16 - 05:19 AM

I figured I'd just Ryder...


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 15 Aug 16 - 12:21 AM

I wouldn't recommend riding a movie star, LH. They have nice paint jobs but they get terrible fuel economy, ya know? And unreliable electronics. Unpredictable breakdowns, very low torque, no power to speak of, and their top speed is, like, five for only short bursts. No storage room to speak of, high pollution...hell, you'd be better off riding a horse, or a big lawnmower!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 14 Aug 16 - 10:13 PM

Definitely.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 14 Aug 16 - 08:55 PM

You'd probably ryde one too, you dirty old man.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 14 Aug 16 - 06:32 PM

There are a couple of movie stars I would eat, if I got the chance to.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 14 Aug 16 - 04:04 PM

BEcause you eat movie stars ?

If eating steak is the same as eating grass, then I should dine on Kobe beef more often! I have been missing out! Another epiphany from the sacred corridors of Chez Mom. See, NO-one on Facebook ever told me that! I am so relieved!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 14 Aug 16 - 03:19 PM

Yes, and that's why I'm so incredibly handsome and debonair.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 13 Aug 16 - 09:30 PM

Go on , eat vegetables. Just remember that you are what you eat.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Bee-dubya-ell
Date: 13 Aug 16 - 04:28 PM

A hedgehog is an insectivore. Ergo, when one eats a hedgehog, one is eating insects once removed. Just like eating a steak is eating grass once removed.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: keberoxu
Date: 13 Aug 16 - 03:56 PM

since when is a hedgehog an insect -- ?!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Donuel
Date: 13 Aug 16 - 09:58 AM

Major issues like having lost many beloved brainy cells in recent years but her core persona and guilt trip is alive and well.
I do question her gourmet menu lately. Insects make great snacks however. They are in great abundance right now!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 12 Aug 16 - 04:48 PM

That is for damned sure. Major issues.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Bee-dubya-ell
Date: 12 Aug 16 - 03:36 PM

Thank you, keberoxu, for saving us from having to listen to Mom's whining and complaining about her being allowed to fall off the page. When that happens, she starts drinking rot-gut gin and feeling sorry for herself. "Nobody loves me anymore! You kids all spend your time playing on Facebook and ignoring your poor old Mom!" Then someone has to say something really funny to get her back in a good mood. Mom has issues.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 12 Aug 16 - 03:26 PM

Bee-dub...it's because the animal rights groups and the SPCA won't allow that kind of cruelty to be inflicted on calves!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: keberoxu
Date: 12 Aug 16 - 12:18 PM

Rapparee isn't here to keep MOAB from dropping out of sight.

I could post the "How to Prepare a Hedgehog" translation [from the French] here; however, I recommend that you visit the BS "Hedgehogs" thread and view the translation there.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 11 Aug 16 - 01:55 PM

THAT was fun! It was near 30C and 39H. Thunderstorm blew in. I got me old lip waders* on, donned a pair of shorts and a tee, and headed out. Stood in the driveaway (yes, driveaway - I am an honourary Labradorian) and LET IT RAIN ON ME! Sheets of heavy rain. It was glorious! The temperature dropped 10C in a half hour and it was breezy so I only had a 20 minute shower but it was great! My neighbours think I am crazy... at least, that's what the voices in my head tell me. >;-)

* Lip waders... sneakers with felts glued to the soles. You can wade a lot deeper water (up to your lips) and swim too.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 11 Aug 16 - 10:37 AM

Hahahahhaaa!!!!!!!!!!!!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Bee-dubya-ell
Date: 10 Aug 16 - 01:11 PM

Why do law enforcement trainees learning to use Tasers and tear gas have to go through the experience of being Tasered and gassed, but trainees learning to shoot a pistol don't have to take a round in the calf?


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Bee-dubya-ell
Date: 10 Aug 16 - 08:24 AM

Hi, Mom! This is post #54893. It is significant because if you add the individual digits in 54893 together, the sum is 29. That is significant because 29 is the number of days in February during a leap year and this year, 2016, is one of those. That is significant because the Summer Olympics are held during leap years. I love the Summer Olympics! Oh, I don't watch the Summer Olympics, but a lot of people do, which means fewer of them check out DVDs from the library during August, leaving more for me to choose from. Hurray for post #54893!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 10 Aug 16 - 06:39 AM

Cherry could have said that. I was, um, otherwise occupied at the time, rapt in trying to keep my mother from being embarrassed by my em-bare-ass-ment.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 10 Aug 16 - 05:45 AM

"GOAL! roared Cherry." No way. He would have gone the way of Hewitt and exclaimed, "HE SHITS... HE SCORES!!!!".


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 10 Aug 16 - 02:51 AM

I reject the supremacy of the great God Brand. I believe a shrimp or a cutlet is itself alone, pure or foul, and no corporation shall gainsay its nature for the sake of a shekel of profit, Go the forth and hence, ye sons of Moloch--we are about our Mother's usiness!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 09 Aug 16 - 10:06 PM

I swallowed a hockey puck once. It was in a game against the Red Wings. I'd fallen and WHAM! and Gordy Howe sent one right down my throat. I choked a bit but got back on my skates and went zipping around the ice. So did everyone else, because the action was so fast nobody except me knew what the puck had gone. Everybody thought someone else had it, and you never saw such a flashing of sticks! Don Cherry his own self was doing the playing and even HE couldn't tell!

I skated up near the Red Wings' goal, acting like I was waiting for a pass. Nobody was covering me, and I felt some interesting thing building up in my tummy. Suddenly I knew what was going to happen and quickly I turned my back to the goal! There was a loud eructation and suddenly the puck reappeared, flying toward the goal! The goalie tried to block the...shot...and failed. GOAL! roared Cherry. That was it -- the winning goal! End of the game! The fans went mad! All of the cheerleaders came out to repair some damage to my clothing! The Red Wings protested, of course, but the refs ruled it fair under Chapter 7, Section 17(1)(A), §29.3 of the hockey rules then in use. Then they claimed that the miasma accompanying the goal had crippled their goalie by causing uninterrupted retching, but the refs tossed that out as well. We won, 1 to 0, and progressed to the Stanley Cup or Ryder Cup or whatever it was called back then.

Yes, I've swallowed a hockey puck. Once was enough.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 09 Aug 16 - 02:49 PM

SOB!!!! The Real Atlantic Stupidstore (Superstore or "Loblaw East" which has piss poor hygiene and zero customer service) has discontinued the No Name toilet tank bleach tabs. Now, I get to buy a brand name product for over twice the price and the SOB turns my clear water blue. Well, it would if I bought it. I don't want blue water in my toilet. It's an outrage! I wanna see what I pee. This is unhealthy. I shall start a campaign to rid the planet of blue toilet tank water bleach pucks* and thereby save countless lives. I am gonna write a goddamn letter (apologies to That Canadian Guy)!

*We up here in the Great White Frozen call 'em pucks on accounta tabs (lazy bastards can't spare ink for "tablets"?) are small things one would swallow when one is dosing medicine for an illness. Try swallowing something the size of a hockey puck.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 09 Aug 16 - 10:37 AM

For God's sake, Mom! You were right on the brink of the perpice...prepuce...peripice...cliff!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 08 Aug 16 - 12:32 PM

Au contraire, mon vieux. I use laser-guided "bombs."


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Donuel
Date: 08 Aug 16 - 12:26 PM

The land of nourishing friendships and between the lines nuance will not vanish. It will not fade, it is immortal in reprise. Memories of mom are unaffected by sparrows and raptors of a different legacy. This Oasis of thirst quenching language has seen migrating parrots in August disappear by September. MOM has no originator. It sprang from the egg and chicken simultaneously. Miraculously Rap was hatched in mid air and flies non stop to this day. Oh the scenes he's seen feeding on lyberries, basking in the sun above the clouds and gliding among his feather at night. And shitting with Norden bomb sight accuracy.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 08 Aug 16 - 09:19 AM

I have, again, taken this opportunity to rescue Mom from softly and silently vanishing away. That's why I'm her favorite.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Donuel
Date: 07 Aug 16 - 06:48 PM

Thanks Amos, I was wondering for years why it took so long to quell an inferno after my "most amazing Man in the World' thread. The outpouring of criticism and hot bile was the most I had ever witnessed. IT LASTED FOR 10 DAYS until you put out the fire. With hero worship and loyal fans like that I too would have sat back and watched.
It still makes me chuckle.

Below was my introduction to a story that included unique weapons, herbology, magical technology, archeo-genetics, disguised politics and friends that banded together to uncover a truth no one would believe.


Basically if done right, it might slip under the radar that the story is just a Harry Potter but with near geriatric characters in a old age home, monitored so that classified material might be protected.
With an absentee administrator that is a rather young Dumbledorish character, of course a discovery allows mayhem to ensue.



Rap I bet when you write , time dilates as it would for a painter.
In my minds eye the lights are bright in the corridors that lead to writing. They are dark when it comes to reading. Are your hallways the same or is one brighter?


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 07 Aug 16 - 12:32 AM

I delight in the animation and colorful range and timber of your dancing imagination, Sir Rapp. I apologize for not being here for a while. The normal travails of quotidian life and all that. Thanks for the kind remark, Donuel; the amaze is reciprocal! :D

The odious olfactory oozings from the GOP certainly do raise a higher stink than Mom ever wanted to.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 06 Aug 16 - 10:03 AM

Your friend Shame would know about being dead, as he's: brain dead, stinking like a bloated corpse in the hot sun, dead from the waist to the knees, and in general a very grave sort.

Chong', in the other hand, is very much alive. Whether working with an organ grinder, throwing poop at her/his betters, swinging by the tail from the monkey bars in the cage in the zoo, or being so cute when pretending to be rational, Chong' is alive. At least people think so, but it could be one of those animatronic constructs, I suppose.

As for my writing:

       Well, I don't know what else you might call it. After all if a reptilian creature is
hatched from an egg, flies, and breaths fire -- I call it a dragon.
        Wouldn't you?
        We called it a dragon, and she (or he) was very handy to have around, too!
        It was either '58 or it wasn't when we hiked into the Boogie Swamp and found the egg.
        The night before had been very stormy. Trees had been torn down by the wind and the rain had looked like a curtain outside of the windows. Lightning had split the sky and thunderclaps had applauded the show.
        The next morning the sky was bright blue, with lots of little fluffy white clouds. The grass and trees and bushes were covered in drops of water that sparkled like bits of crystal.
        We wondered what the storm may have done to the Swamp, and shortly after breakfast we went to find out.
        Some of the dead trees had been knocked down and the wind had blown the leftover leaves around, but except for more mud the Swamp hadn't changed much.
        Martha saw it first. It was a big egg, about the size of a football, sort of tan with brown and red and blue spots, and it was mostly buried in the mud.
        Tony said that it must have fallen from very high up because it was buried so deeply and because there were globs of mud on nearby trees that looked like they had been tossed up when the egg landed.
        All four of us gathered around the egg and discussed what to do with it. Ted touched it and said that it was warm and sort of felt like leather.
        He also said that it had moved when he touched it.
        It didn't look like it had moved, so we told him he was crazy and then a crack appeared in the top of the egg and it started to hatch.
        Watching the egg hatch was really interesting. First it sort of crackled and then it sprackled and then it rackled and then it chackled and then a little head popped out of the shell.
        The little creature then proceeded to eat the egg shell. When it was done it looked at us and sort of smiled and said, "Bleep."
        It was an awfully little dragon to be inside such a big egg, and Ted said so.
        "No, it was really to give me protection and food when I hatched," a voice said inside our heads.
        Tony said, "Huh? Who said that?" and the voice inside our heads said, "Me. Bimby. I just hatched. Which of you is my mother?"
        We were nonplussed, which is a fancy way of saying that we were as surprised as all get out.
        "Who is my mother?" asked the voice again.
        "Ah," said Ted, "Martha is a girl. . . ."
        "I'm not a mother, though," said Martha.
        The little dragon (who could easily curl up in our hands) looked like it was going to cry. "Mom? MOM? MOM?" it asked repeatedly.
        Ted picked it up and said, quietly, "Your mom's not here, I'm afraid. Could we take care of you?"
        And inside our heads the dragon sort of sighed "Yes" and curled up in Ted's hands and went to sleep.
        We knew that Bimby would be hungry when he (or she -- we never knew for sure) awakened, so we started for home. Mom would probably know what baby dragons ate, because she was a mother, after all.
        We were in the parking lot of the Stadium when a couple of big mean kids stopped us. They pushed us around and then they wanted to know what Ted was carrying so carefully.
        Ted told them, but they didn't believe him and said that it must be candy or money and they were going to take it.
        Boy, did they get a surprise!
        No matter what we did, they knocked Ted down and tried to pull his hands apart. They hit him and held him down and we couldn't see what was happening until a WHOOSH of fire shot up from the pile of people and the mean kids jumped up and ran away.
        "How the heck did you do that?" Tony asked Ted.
        "I don't really know," said a familiar voice inside our heads. "I had just awakened and I knew that they were going to hurt one of you and so, when I knew that I wouldn't hurt -- Ted? -- I just WHOOSHed away. Now I'm hungry."
        "Your whoosh is pretty good!" observed Martha. "It certainly gave those bullies a fright!"
        "Thank you," Bimby replied mildly, "But I am quite hungry now. WHOOSHing takes something out of you."
        "What would you like?" asked Tony.
        "I don't know," Bimby said. "I haven't had anything except eggshells since I was born. But, perhaps, something with lots of carbon and, oh, plant matter and -- I don't know."
        "Martha's carbon based and she ate lots of cereal for breakfast," I observed.
        Bimby's head peeked up from Ted's hands and he looked at Martha appraisingly. "No, I think not. Too -- too -- soft. Hard carbon."
        "I know!" said Tony, and he reached down and picked up a small piece of coal someone had dropped.
        Bimby sniffed at it and, in one gulp, ate it.
        "More?" Bimby asked.
        "At our house. It's not far," replied Tony.
        "Okay," said Bimby, and nestled back into Ted's hands. "But please go quickly because I am still quite hungry from WHOOSHing."
        Mom caught us bringing a bucket of coal and a hammer up from the basement and asked us what we were doing now.
        We told her we had to break up the lumps of coal so Bimby could eat them. She said, "Oh. Okay. Just be careful not to break anything."
        A little later she came out to the back yard, where we were breaking up coal and feeding it to Bimby. Mom didn't say anything about us having a baby dragon except that we had to take care of it.
        Bimby quickly got bigger. That summer we took him (or her) on Boy Scout camping trips where Bimby helped to light the campfires. And there was nothing like Bimby for lighting the charcoal grill in the backyard! Bimby even ate charcoal briquets and said that they had "a lighter taste" than coal.
        Someone called the dogcatcher about Bimby, but since there was no law about getting a license for a dragon we were left alone after that.
        By late Fall Bimby was about seven feet long, and obviously couldn't stay outside during the Winter, so we moved her (or him) into the basement by the furnace. We used coal to heat the house and Bimby would WHOOSH gently whenever the temperature in the house got too low and make the fire in the furnace burn better. In fact, Bimby's WHOOSHing caused all of the coal to burn, so there weren't any ashes to take out.
        By the time Spring came Bimby was about eighteen feet long and nearly too big to climb up the basement stairs. We all -- Mom and Bimby and everyone -- decided that Bimby should move into the cave in the Boogie Swamp, where there would be lots of room.
        Every three or four day we'd take a bushel of coal or charcoal to Bimby. We'd talk and play games and Bimby would WHOOSH a little and we'd roast wieners and marshmallows.
        One day Bimby said to us, "I've been talking with a dragon named Wei-Fan, who lives very far away. Now I know what happened on the night before I was born and why we've never found my mother."
        "Wei-Fan says that my mother was flying my egg and the eggs of my brothers and sisters to a special hatching place when she was struck by lightning. My egg was thrown away by the force of the lightning and fell into the mud of the Swamp where you guys found me. I was the only one to survive."
         It never occurred to us to ask Bimby how it was possible to talk with another dragon who was far away. Of course, we never asked how Bimby could talk inside our heads, either.        
        In late Summer we were captured by some Ruffians who felt that the Swamp would be a good place in which to hide and from which to do nefarious deeds. They were going to whittle on us with big knives when Bimby came along and the Ruffians ran away. I suppose that a dragon who was now about eighty feet long and who could WHOOSH fire five hundred yards scared them a little! Anyway, they never came back.
        About a week later Bimby told us that he (or she) would have to leave.
        Tony thought that we'd done something wrong, but Bimby said no, at a certain point growing dragons have to sleep for a long, long time in a very, very deep and quiet cave. And Bimby had to start for the cave right away, because the closest one was in Oregon. Otherwise. . .well, Bimby had to leave then and not later!
        Bimby ate the coal we'd brought and we all cried a little bit. But Bimby said that we'd hear about it when the Long Sleep was over, because Bimby would come back to see us.
        So we hugged Bimby and she (or he) stretched out BIG wings and flew up into the air like a feather. Bimby circled us twice and flew away to the west. We watched until we couldn't even see a dot in the sky anymore and then we went home to a sad supper of dates and dill and duck dumplings and dimpas dampes for dessert. We drank drambuie, of course.
        We didn't hear from Bimby for a long time, and in fact, we haven't heard from Bimby yet. But maybe. . . well, in 1980 Mt. St. Helens erupted in Oregon. Molten rock burned up trees and really messed up the landscape. And since then I've been thinking: Bimby never did like to wake up before it was time to do so, and, well, if that happened he (or she) would let you know how unhappy she (or he) was about it, roll over, and go back to sleep. Now, folks say that Mt. St. Helens was a volcano, but Bimby was going to Oregon, and maybe, just maybe . . . .


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 06 Aug 16 - 08:19 AM

I also want you to know that Chongo forgives you. He just feels sorry for you. "That poor, poor man," he says, shaking his head sadly. "And to think I was gonna rip his fool head off. I sure do hope he gets professional help soon, 'cause he NEEDS it."

Shane, on the other hand, cuts you no such slack. He wants you dead. "FLIPPIN' DEAD!" No mercy.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 06 Aug 16 - 08:15 AM

You have a flare for a certain kind of literature, Rap...the kind involving military personnel, soldiers of fortune, weaponry, intrigue, and complex scenarios which lead to sudden violence...plus insights into the lives of the rich...but it all makes me wonder...

Just what sort of weirdo are you? You strike me as quite an odd man, and I say that while being a bit unusual myself. :)


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 05 Aug 16 - 10:39 PM

I'm afraid our dear Mother of all BS threads is obsolete. MOAB has been cast into the deep shadow by all of the heaps of bovine droppings cast far and wide by Donald Trump and his Ilk. The Ilk makes it smell even worse because they don't drop patties like bulls, they throw shit like the baboons in the Prospect Park Zoo.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Donuel
Date: 05 Aug 16 - 05:37 PM

Not to be confused with a fugazy. fagetaboutit


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 04 Aug 16 - 09:41 PM

The door opened suddenly and a man dressed in black, complete with balaclava, entered. He carried a pale gray MP7A2 in a holster on his hip.

"West! You foul-mouth and minded, caluminous, wrangling, poor, unhappy knave! You are the most needless creature living! What is this crew of patches, these rude mechanicals, these common recreations you have brought? Speak, Lord Lackbeard, you whoreson malt-horse drudge!"

Nigel brightened and responded, "Younker! You old rotten medlar, you minimus, you scall, scurvy, cogging, cozening, you whoreson cullionly barbermonger, you politician! How the hell are you?"

And they embraced only as old comrades who have faced death together can.

In a moment they broke and General West said, "Ladies, let me introduce a rogue and peasant slave, but a brave man none the less, Colonel Sir James James, late of Her Majesty's Special Boat Service, VC, and all that."

"James James?" queried Penelope. "The James James?"

"Indeed, madam," James replied, and made a small bow. "Have you heard of me?"

"No, but if I had I would remember such a name."

"My parents were great fans of A. A. Milne and thought it a great honor to give me my name." He winced and said, "It's been more of a curse. 'Jim-Jim' and 'Jimmy-Jim' and other nicknames."

"You know Shakespeare," observed Chinga.

"Yes, Lit. D. Oxenford and all that. I hope you haven't read my dissertation, as it's quite the most boring and outlandish thing ever written."

West interrupted. "So, you base muleter, why did you come?"

"I thought you might like to know that an ice boat has been reported and will close with us in..." he looked at his watch "...fifteen minutes."

"WHAT?!" exclaimed Nigel, rising from his chair.

"It's under control, sir. In approximately five minutes it will enter the minefield. The fougasse should make it look like a terrible accident, so sorry and all that."

Nigel lowered himself again. "You dunghill groom! You had me going there! Anyway, could you provide quarters for these lovely ladies? Their baggage should be unloaded by now."

"Of course, good ticklebrain!"

There was a beep from his breast pocket and voice said, "Done, Colonel. No survivors. Earlier than we expected as they sped up about a hundred meters before the mines."

He touched his pocket and replied, "Did they get a message off?"

The voice said, "None detected on any band."

James said, "Good job. Thank you. Send out a disposal party and replace whatever needs replacing." He opened the door again and said, "Sergeant, please show these ladies to their quarters. Ladies, if you will? Please follow Sergeant Smythe and let him know if you need anything."

After they left, James turned to West and said, "That's not the first time the Sorry Paling crowd has sent someone out this way."

"Have they twigged?" asked Nigel.

"We don't think so, no. We think they're just expendables sent out to look around." He smiled. "Some make it back, some don't. Treacherous place, the Chukchi Sea. Ice packs and flows and danger of all sorts. Oh, yes! We're getting along fine with the Russians. We don't bother them, etc."

"We'll have to take out that Paling crowd fairly soon."

"Yes. We're just about ready. Two or three more days at the most."

"Good."

(WHAT NEXT? AND WHAT (BESIDES BREAD) IS FOUGASSE?)


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Bee-dubya-ell
Date: 04 Aug 16 - 09:09 PM

Acme, I share your concern about dead salmon, but have you ever tried to eat a live salmon? Doesn't work very well. Suckers will jump right off your plate and flap around on the table until you stick 'em with a fork and get blood everywhere. Grizzly bears seem to enjoy them, but a grizzly's table manners make Shane McBride look like Emily Post.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Donuel
Date: 04 Aug 16 - 08:23 PM

Halfway between Wind Cave and Scenic, Amos was finishing his drone Lidar measurements of an area that 2D and 3D seismic mapping indicated a symmetrical underground feature. Actually it was not symmetrical but face like, and we all know how normal that is. "Hey Ebbie you wanna go to Rapid City?" Ray called out. Ebbie knew what that meant, "It'll be dark by the time we get back to the corral, besides Red Lobster is over priced." They both closed the doors in unison and the Ford half ton started right up.

Back at the Company Corral where retired boomer agents and operatives celebrate their last hurrah with assisted living, dirty tricks and clandestine technology, a Fed Ex semi-truck was making a delivery at the kitchen dock. The air freight containers disrupted the kitchen and filled two sitting dens no one ever used.

The first sitting for dinner was already filling in with people already representing one of the four cliques. While clients varied by 20 or more the dining room always divided itself into the four groups...


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 04 Aug 16 - 09:31 AM

Household hints for everyone!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 03 Aug 16 - 11:34 PM

SciFi and chimps with guns. Sounds like the premise for the next reality program hit on the WB network.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 03 Aug 16 - 09:48 PM

Hmm, yes...


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