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BS: The Mother of all BS threads

MMario 24 Jun 16 - 03:35 PM
Bee-dubya-ell 24 Jun 16 - 01:11 PM
Rapparee 24 Jun 16 - 12:21 PM
Amos 24 Jun 16 - 02:11 AM
Rapparee 23 Jun 16 - 11:06 PM
Amos 23 Jun 16 - 09:08 PM
Little Hawk 23 Jun 16 - 07:50 PM
gnu 23 Jun 16 - 05:51 PM
Bee-dubya-ell 23 Jun 16 - 10:27 AM
Rapparee 23 Jun 16 - 09:59 AM
Bee-dubya-ell 23 Jun 16 - 09:10 AM
Acme 23 Jun 16 - 02:52 AM
Amos 22 Jun 16 - 11:57 PM
Rapparee 22 Jun 16 - 11:45 PM
Rapparee 22 Jun 16 - 08:40 PM
Bee-dubya-ell 22 Jun 16 - 07:17 PM
gnu 22 Jun 16 - 02:23 PM
Amos 22 Jun 16 - 01:42 PM
Rapparee 21 Jun 16 - 09:54 PM
Little Hawk 21 Jun 16 - 08:38 PM
Amos 21 Jun 16 - 01:04 AM
Rapparee 20 Jun 16 - 10:09 PM
Rapparee 20 Jun 16 - 09:56 AM
Amos 19 Jun 16 - 10:04 PM
Rapparee 19 Jun 16 - 09:44 PM
Rapparee 19 Jun 16 - 04:07 PM
Amos 18 Jun 16 - 07:08 PM
keberoxu 18 Jun 16 - 06:36 PM
gnu 18 Jun 16 - 06:29 PM
Little Hawk 18 Jun 16 - 05:03 PM
Rapparee 18 Jun 16 - 02:16 PM
Acme 18 Jun 16 - 02:12 PM
Little Hawk 18 Jun 16 - 01:36 AM
Amos 18 Jun 16 - 12:50 AM
Rapparee 17 Jun 16 - 10:07 PM
gnu 17 Jun 16 - 09:33 PM
Little Hawk 17 Jun 16 - 07:42 PM
Little Hawk 17 Jun 16 - 07:39 PM
Amos 17 Jun 16 - 04:13 PM
Amos 17 Jun 16 - 03:56 PM
Amos 17 Jun 16 - 03:55 PM
Amos 17 Jun 16 - 03:34 PM
Little Hawk 17 Jun 16 - 12:06 PM
Rapparee 17 Jun 16 - 10:21 AM
Rapparee 16 Jun 16 - 11:38 PM
Little Hawk 16 Jun 16 - 11:20 PM
Rapparee 16 Jun 16 - 11:16 PM
gnu 16 Jun 16 - 09:50 PM
Rapparee 16 Jun 16 - 08:04 PM
gnu 16 Jun 16 - 06:39 PM
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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: MMario
Date: 24 Jun 16 - 03:35 PM

Well, MOM;

My NYS retirement system paperwork is in; my SS paperwork is in; and in 90 days or so I will be retired...


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Bee-dubya-ell
Date: 24 Jun 16 - 01:11 PM

Bullshit! "Nanopiscacide!" is what the inhabitants of the planet Threlmkon say when another Threlmkonian sneezes. Well, it's not exactly sneezing as we know it, being that Threlmkonians have no mouths, noses, or respiratory tracts in general. It's more of a rapid and surprising lurch in the space-time continuum. But "Nanopiscacide!" is definitely what they say, though they don't actually say it since, as previously explained, they lack the organs necessary to say anything. They sort of mentally burp it out into a shared communal consciousness. Since said consciousness is communal, there are apt to be billions of Threlmkonians saying "Nanopiscacide!" at any given moment, which pretty much drowns out anything else being said, thus effectively making "Nanopiscacide!" the only word in the Threlmkonian vocabulary. This is good news for humans since Threlmkonians are very unfriendly and, if they didn't spend all their time saying "Nanopiscacide!", they would probably invade Earth and destroy it using some sort of super weapon which, fortunately, they haven't had time to invent since they spend all their time saying "Nanopiscacide!"


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 24 Jun 16 - 12:21 PM

Oh, fer...! A nanopiscacide is, obvious to anyone even halfway understanding the language of science, is a killer of eensy-weensy-tiny fish. A baleen whale is a nanopiscacide, for example.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 24 Jun 16 - 02:11 AM

Oh, you don't like my definition? Give us a reference then!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 23 Jun 16 - 11:06 PM

Amos, I fear you are confusing nanopiscacides with helminth infections such as schistosomiasis. With your wealth of experience in all corners of the globe I'd think you'd know the difference.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 23 Jun 16 - 09:08 PM

Well, that sure beats all. What a dramatic tale, Mister L!

As for funnel cake, I apologize, I thought you hadf eaten some and thrown it up. Funnel cake is the favorite food of the arthropod Atrax robustus, a venomous mygalomorph spider native to eastern Australia. The reason it is so detested by Australians is that it deprives their children of bloat and self-indulgent pleasure by eating, or spoiling through defecation, all their funnel-cake.

Nanopiscacides, as Rapparee pretends to know, as he does so much!, are tiny, tiny fish who kill themselves off by climbing urine streams and trying to follow them to their source. They fail so often that they are an endangered species.

A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 23 Jun 16 - 07:50 PM

It seems to me that a funnel is a very poor place for a cake, therefore funnel cake is a bad idea. Too much smoke in funnels. And the cake would get all dried out too.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 23 Jun 16 - 05:51 PM

That was super-dooper-pooper!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Bee-dubya-ell
Date: 23 Jun 16 - 10:27 AM

The Poop-Flingers Ball

Two baboons from old Senegal
A gorilla, a chimp, and an orangutan all
Met up together at the old town hall
For the forty-fifth annual Poop-Flingers Ball

Now, the reason they met at the Poop-Flingers Ball
Was to fling their poop against the wall
To see whose poop would stick the best
And whose just wouldn't pass the test

Well, the first to fling was those two baboons
They'd trained by eating lots of prunes
But it made their poop so thin and runny
It would not stick for love or money

The next one up was that old gorilla
He'd eaten bananas, his poop was yellow
He flung a turd at the bathroom door
But it fell right down upon the floor

And then came the orangutan
He flung his poop at the ceiling fan
Which slung it out to all four walls
But it ran right off and didn't stick at all

The last to fling was the chimpanzee
And his poop stuck! it would not come free!
And the reason why, I'll tell you true
Is he'd mixed his poop with super glue

When the other apes learned the chimp had cheated
They grew irate, their tempers heated
And they began to scream and bellow
And fling their poop at that cheating fellow

They were so angry and so sore
They chased him out the kitchen door
Hollering, "Go away and don't come back!
You are no longer welcome, Jack!"

So, the moral of this painful story
This shameful, sordid allegory
Is "Do not cheat, always be true,
And don't mix your poop with super glue."


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 23 Jun 16 - 09:59 AM

Bee-Dub, most people don't know that cotton candy not only contains absolutely no funnel cake but that it contains everything necessary to support a healthy and long life. Just don't eat the cone it comes on as that contains nanopiscacides.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Bee-dubya-ell
Date: 23 Jun 16 - 09:10 AM

I have never thrown up a funnel cake. In fact, I have never eaten a funnel cake. I do make my living selling my wares at festivals where funnel cakes are often one of the many indigestibles hawked by food vendors, so I have witnessed people eating funnel cakes. Those people scare me. I would not want to be one of them. They watch reality TV programs and have Donald Trump campaign signs in their front yards. Some of them still have McCain/Palin bumper stickers from 2008 on their pickup trucks. I figure that simply breathing the air near a funnel cake vendor's trailer will result in a net loss of IQ points, so I'm damned sure not eating the things. At this point, I need all of the few brain cells I have left.

In fact, I avoid most of the "food" sold at festivals. I have a theory that much of it is nothing but funnel cakes in disguise. The noodles in that "lo mein"? Funnel cake dough. The stuff on the outside of corn dogs and "blooming onions"? Funnel cake dough. The only festival food item I'm relatively sure is not made of funnel cake dough is the smoked turkey legs, though I'm far from certain they're actually made of turkey.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 23 Jun 16 - 02:52 AM

Hey, MOM, glad to see the kids are keeping you on the porch and not dipping below the line. Sorry you were so bored watching me can tomatoes tonight- but I'm glad you and the wine bottle were able to keep each other company and have such a lively conversation between the two of you.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 22 Jun 16 - 11:57 PM

Kind of odd that we had the exact same weather here on the Coast. Go figger.

I am moved to ask Mister BWL when the last time was he had to throw up his funnel cake?


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 22 Jun 16 - 11:45 PM


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 22 Jun 16 - 08:40 PM

The sky, a blue such as lapis lazuli never knew, arches over in what seems to be an infinite reach. Each cloud a bit of white cotton candy floats as if it were torn by the breeze from a child's treat,
in a mild warmth such as San Diego desires but rarely achieves.

There!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Bee-dubya-ell
Date: 22 Jun 16 - 07:17 PM

It's easy to be creative. All you have to do is lie. And if you can't think up a good lie, tell the truth and say it's a lie. That fulfills the necessary falsehood requirement.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 22 Jun 16 - 02:23 PM

I am eating a hot dog and washing it down with a beer in air conditioned comfort. Creative enough?


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 22 Jun 16 - 01:42 PM

Oh, THAT's creative. Write a post about the weather! Why didn't anyone else think of that?


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 21 Jun 16 - 09:54 PM

It's 76F here in Missoula. Blue sky, some snow still waaaay up in the hills.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 21 Jun 16 - 08:38 PM

Gosh, the weather has been so great here today. Really nice. All in all, a lovely day to sit outside, play the guitar for a bit, and work on a new cover tune.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 21 Jun 16 - 01:04 AM

Self-serving narcissism will get you anything, Rapp. At leasty short-term.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 20 Jun 16 - 10:09 PM

It's okay, Mom. I still care.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 20 Jun 16 - 09:56 AM

Chonga knocked diffidently on the heavy oaken door. A muffled voice from inside said, "Enter, please."

The door, which would have done justice to a castle in a horror movie, opened easily on well-oiled hinges. Chonga (formerly known as Chongo) entered and stood before the not-overly-large desk behind which her twin sister sat.

"Chonga, I've called you in to tell you that you've been promoted. We've noticed your work (there was enough Chongo left to be dismayed by the nature of her "work") and it's gone very well. You put yourself into your work. I won't ask if you like it; that's a stupid thing to ask anyone in our line of work! Dirty, stinking, customers, drunken louts....

"But anyway, here's the offer: I'd like you to start a group of our 'franchises'. You'll be in charge -- you'll be supplied with plenty of money, the names of officials who will need to come around to thinking our way, and of course all the help you need from Headquarters here.

"Even if you fail (and I don't think you will) you'll still be my sister and I'll find something else for you here at Headquarters. Do you want to give it a try?"

"Where?" queried Chonga, interested in spite of herself.

"The towns and cities of Dutch Harbor, Dead Horse, Kotzebue, Homer, and Naknek to start. Working in from around the edges, you know, as we have found that to be the most efficient and profitable."

"Where are these towns?" Chonga asked, curious. She'd never heard of any of them.

"Alaska. Now don't get upset! We haven't been able to get much of a foothold there because it's so big and because of our company policy about firearms. You know about firearms and can deal with that aspect of it without getting your panties in a bunch, unlike Marsie, who last tried. You can talk with her, in fact I highly recommend it. Oh! You'll have the pick of the girls, worldwide pick, two planes and pilots, a townhouse/headquarters in Anchorage, the best in warm clothing (I can read your mind about the cold!), two cars -- one for off-road, pretty much anything you want. But get the job done! I know you can do it!"

Chonga stood amazed. Three months on the job and she was being asked to open up a brand new territory! She gulped and answered, "I'll give it a try, and I'll succeed. Thank you, dear sister."

Chinga made a dismissive gesture and Chonga left. You could hear her mental gears meshing. Demographics, average disposable income for each place, who in the government would be most approachable....

Her revery was broken by Chinga's secretary, Miss Poundsense. "Miss Chonga? Miss Chinga said to give you this. It's a breakdown by city of the places you discussed with her just now. You can see anyone in the organization at any time. And Miss Chinga approved a visit to Sergeant Tollbooth for you -- she said not to go overboard, no full auto yet, but she suggests a .300 WM as a minimum long gun and a simple .45 as your handgun." Miss Poundsense dimpled as she smiled and said, "Miss, I think you'll appreciate our armory and armorer!" And turned and walked back to her desk.

Chonga stood, amazed. She could build whatever and however she thought best. No micromanaging boss, but Chinga would probably come around to inspect things now and then. And she had her choice in a library of guns that was rumored to rival that of the Tower of London, but much, much newer.

She signed, and her mind reeling with figures and questions, left for her assignment.



(Yes, the denouement continues!)


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 19 Jun 16 - 10:04 PM

Bravo on the deft salvage of poor Ballsworthy AND reforming him in the same stroke. Masterful!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 19 Jun 16 - 09:44 PM

No one but me...poor Mom.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 19 Jun 16 - 04:07 PM

Orbiting in pace with the Moon, but hidden by it from the Earth, a huge starship waited and monitored its agents on Earth.

"Sir!" the underling said, saluting with its tongue as was proper. "A coded message!" and handed it to its Commander. It left.

The Commander flicked the communication button, said something, and then waited.

Presently the door dilated and the Sub-Commander came in. "Something new, Chief?" it asked.

The Commander threw the message to it. "Read it."

The Sub-Commander did so and hissed. "That's not good. We'll have to release the human. Is it well indoctrinated now?"

"I think so. I think it will do our bidding, or at least cease spreading lies about us." The Commander smiled and the smile went nearly to its earholes. "Prepare to return it to its original location!"

Some two hours later Hector Ballsworthy, naked and chilled, was deposited on the Great Grimpen Mire. He was seen by a the leader of a group of Girl Guides who were walking the Moor and his presence called in to the police. About a hour later he was taken up and, after various checks were made, released with a pair of borrowed pants, a pair of borrowed shoes and stockings, and a borrowed shirt. There was a present of £25 pounds, which was the cost of a train ticket home, from Her Majesty's government

As the train pulled him homewards, Ballsworthy reflected upon his adventure. He had been...somewhere...and had been treated well. Exactly what had happened he did not know, but he did know that lizardmen could in no way be as threatening as he once thought them to be. And that utter nonsense he'd been writing! He was ashamed, and vowed silently to change his ways.

(More? Okay.)


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 18 Jun 16 - 07:08 PM

Assuming that his eyes--unlike some we have seen through in these hallowed passages--are not imaginary.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: keberoxu
Date: 18 Jun 16 - 06:36 PM

Nice to see that Rap the Emperor is feeling so very much better.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 18 Jun 16 - 06:29 PM

Combine alcohol and weed? Why, only an idiot would do that more than once.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 18 Jun 16 - 05:03 PM

Shane claims to have achieved all that through excessive consumption of alcohol, combined with copious amounts of weed.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 18 Jun 16 - 02:16 PM

I see...what others cannot. I see beyond the mundane, beyond the physical, beyond the spiritual. I can see and by seeing, know. I am unlimited! Boundaries that used to bind me are no more! I have burst the surly bounds of Earth and danced the skies! Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth of sun-split clouds!
I've done what you have not dreamed of -- wheeled and soared and swung
in silence, and hovering there I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung myself eagerly through footless halls of air! Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue, I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace, where never lark or even eagle flew! You see, I see with eyes that know no bounds!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 18 Jun 16 - 02:12 PM

With Win10 upgrades you have to look for the very small print that gives you a link to do what you really want to do. The big obvious "click here" links are to the stuff Microsoft would prefer you do. And don't let their privacy (lack of, that is) defaults stay put.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 18 Jun 16 - 01:36 AM

Well, that's good news. Failing eyesight is a real drag. You must be getting a whole fresh new look at the world now, Rap.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 18 Jun 16 - 12:50 AM

Your new lenses are looking good, Booquemann!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 17 Jun 16 - 10:07 PM

I must tell it.

This afternoon, for over four hours, I was target shooting.

With a simple, single shot, .22 caliber rifle, at 25 meters, I shot out a 1.75 inch (4.45 cm.) bullseye. Five "ranging and windage" shots were used, as I haven't shot that rifle in over a year, but then I just decided to keep shooting until the center was all gone, which I did.

Haven't shot that well in...well, ever. It's because of that Catter-wrecked surgery I had and the lenses put in and all, because I can see better than I have since, oh, 1951 or so.

Then I took up another single shot .22 caliber rifle and shot at stuff left at the end of 100 yard range. Yes folks, I was hitting the pieces of broken clay pigeons on the backstop at 100 yards using a falling block rifle pretty much unchanged in its design since 1880. I did this for about an hour, and once I got the range I rarely missed.

A wind of about 20 mph was blowing from 6 o'clock, varying slightly, just enough to make it interesting.

I've got new eyes and things are looking good!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 17 Jun 16 - 09:33 PM

I am backing up my backup
To avoid a hiccough
When I upgrade to Windows 10

When I amass enough money
Fuck Bill Gates and *his* money
I'll buy a Mac and not look back

Sung to the tune of Fuck ME This Shit Pisses Me Off! by Gary and The Pissed Off Fer Fuck Sake Band, cw 2016.

Yesterday's download did not go well. But, I think I know what happened... security software clash. Three reboots with two restore recoveries. She's all good. We'll get 'er done.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 17 Jun 16 - 07:42 PM

Stunning, isn't it? And told in such a succinct and expressive manner.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 17 Jun 16 - 07:39 PM

I was so moved by that last MacGonagall masterpiece that I can only follow it by posting another one...

Little Popeet: The Lost Child

Near by the silent waters of the Mediterranean,
And at the door of an old hut stood a coloured man,
Whose dress was oriental in style and poor with wear,
While adown his furrowed cheeks ran many a tear.

And the poor coloured man seemed very discontent,
And his grief overcame him at this moment;
And he wrung his hands in agony wild,
And he cried, "Oh! help me, great God, to find my child."

"And Ada, my dear wife, but now she is dead,
Which fills my poor heart with sorrow and dread;
She was a very loving wife, but of her I'm bereft,
And I and my lost child are only left.

And, alas! I know not where to find my boy,
Who is dear to me and my only joy;
But with the help of God I will find him,
And this day in search of him I will begin."

So Medoo leaves Turkey and goes to France,
Expecting to find his boy there perhaps by chance;
And while there in Paris he was told
His boy by an Arab had been sold

To a company of French players that performed in the street,
Which was sad news to hear about his boy Popeet;
And while searching for him and making great moan,
He was told he was ill and in Madame Mercy's Home.

Then away went Medoo with his heart full of joy,
To gaze upon the face of his long-lost boy;
Who had been treated by the players mercilessly,
But was taken to the home of Madame Celeste.

She was a member of the players and the leader's wife,
And she loved the boy Popeet as dear as her life,
Because she had no children of her own;
And for the poor ill-treated boy often she did moan.

And when Popeet's father visited the Home,
He was shown into a room where Popeet lay alone,
Pale and emaciated, in his little bed;
And when his father saw him he thought he was dead.

And when Popeet saw his father he lept out of bed,
And only that his father caught him he'd been killed dead;
And his father cried, " Popeet, my own darling boy,
Thank God I've found you, and my heart's full of joy."

Then Madame Mercy's tears fell thick and fast,
When she saw that Popeet had found his father at last;
Then poor Popeet was taken home without delay,
And lived happy with his father for many a day.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 17 Jun 16 - 04:13 PM

And now he all embarrassed grows
At seeing words he has just thundered
And finding typos and, as well,
Miscounting posts by an even hundred!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 17 Jun 16 - 03:56 PM

Alas, the other write too slow!
Their pale ambitions are laid low.
The poster--may he soon grow famous--
Is Mom's first son, the awesome Amos!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 17 Jun 16 - 03:55 PM

And now the century is in line
With fifty-three five ninety nine.
And who shall claim the hundred trick
By posting 53 and six?


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 17 Jun 16 - 03:34 PM

Much as I admire the stunning butchery of her scansion, the tortured inversions and abortions of her rhyme schemes, and the almost inimitable lackluster of her pedestrian imagery, I would like to ask Little Hawk not to post anymore of those poems. They offend my sensibilities.


As for Rapparree's revelations concerning Chinga and Chongx, I am most amazed at his authorial vision, the deftness of his plot development (despite certain obvious flaws in development and stylistic gaps). I think Little Hawk will be hard put to continue his insistence about Chongx's origins and will finally have to face up to the twisted immoralities that have hitherto been so thinly disguised in the monkey's backstory.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 17 Jun 16 - 12:06 PM

I need a refresher. I think it's time for a William MacGonagall poem.

A Tale of Christmas Eve

'Twas Christmastide in Germany,
And in the year of 1850,
And in the city of Berlin, which is most beautiful to the eye;
A poor boy was heard calling out to passers-by.

"Who'll buy my pretty figures," loudly he did cry,
Plaster of Paris figures, but no one inclined to buy;
His clothes were thin and he was nearly frozen with cold,
And wholly starving with hunger, a pitiful sight to behold.

And the twilight was giving place to the shadows of approaching night,
And those who possessed a home were seeking its warmth and light;
And the market square was dark and he began to moan,
When he thought of his hungry brother and sisters at home.

Alas! The poor boy was afraid to go home,
Oh, Heaven! hard was his lot, for money he'd none;
And the tears coursed down his cheeks while loudly he did cry,
"Buy my plaster of Paris figures, oh! please come buy."

It was now quite dark while he stood there,
And the passers-by did at the poor boy stare,
As he stood shivering with cold in the market square;
And with the falling snow he was almost frozen to the bone.
And what would it avail him standing there alone,
Therefore he must make up his mind to return home.

Then he tried to hoist the board and figures on to his head,
And for fear of letting the board fall he was in great dread;
Then he struggled manfully forward without delay,
But alas! He fell on the pavement, oh! horror and dismay.

And his beautiful figures were broken and scattered around him,
And at the sight thereof his eyes grew dim;
And when he regained his feet he stood speechless like one bowed down,
Then the poor boy did fret and frown.

Then the almost despairing boy cried aloud,
And related his distress to the increasing crowd;
Oh! What a pitiful sight on a Christmas eve,
But the dense crowd didn't the poor boy relieve,

Until a poor wood-cutter chanced to come along,
And he asked of the crowd what was wrong;
And twenty ready tongues tells him the sad tale,
And when he heard it the poor boy's fate he did bewail.

And he cried, "Here! Something must be done and quickly too,
Do you hear! Every blessed soul of you;
Come, each one give a few pence to the poor boy,
And it will help to fill his heart with joy."

Then the wood-cutter gave a golden coin away,
So the crowd subscribed largely without delay;
Which made the poor boy's heart feel gay,
Then the wood-cutter thanked the crowd and went away.

So the poor boy did a large subscription receive,
And his brother, mother, and sisters had a happy Christmas eve;
And he thanked the crowd and God that to him the money sent,
And bade the crowd good-night, then went home content.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 17 Jun 16 - 10:21 AM

Two days had passed. Chongx, chained to a platform, had been fed, watered, and hosed clean several times.

Door opened and the most beautiful woman he had ever seen entered.

"Chong'," she breathed. "You don't know how long I've waited to meet you."

"Who...you?" said Chongx, stumbling over his words and his voice rising on the last word.

"Does it matter, loverboy?"

"Can...get me free?" It seemed like his voice wasn't working in the presence of this dame.

"Oh, no! I just wanted to come in to meet you again. But I do have some good news."

"Wassdat? Meet me agin?"

"Yes...you see...." The door opened again and the man came in, this time wearing a purple zoot suit. Renata followed.

"Have you told him yet?" Slim Thing asked (for it was he in zoot suits).

"No. You came in too early, fool."

"I told you so," said Renata. Slim Thing looked chagrined and slightly fearful.

"But since we are all here, I'll make it a grand announcement. But, are they treating you alright, Chong'?"

"I'm fed baby food by a chump with a spoon and a rod. I have to pee and poop all over myself and I'm hosed off for a cleanup. I have to put up with Slim Thing's choice of clothes. I seem to be in a sub-basement in Chicago. But otherwise t'ings are just hunky-dory," Chongx said bitterly.

"Good. That's just the way I ordered it."

In amazement Chongx asked, "YOU ordered it? Takin' the girl, droppin' me with dope, all of it?"

"Yes. I disliked losing those people no matter, but no matter. Their families are being taken care of; I don't bind the mouth of the kine who tread the grain. But that's not why I flew in. It was because of you. You see -- no, you don't, it's been too long -- my name is Chinga and I'm your twin sister."

At this Chongx felt the world fall out from under. Chinga! She'd last been seen in the jungles of West Africa with his mother, both of them sobbing because Chongx was leaving, using the rest of the money raised by selling their "services" to passers-by.

"Yes, indeed. I'm your loving sister, flesh of the same mother as you are." Renata smirked.

His tough-guy bravado shaken, he asked, his voice in the higher registers, "Wha...what are you going to do to me?"

"Why, feed you and clean up after you and even loosen the chains enough so you can move around the room, use the bathroom. Even medical care. If you are good, of course. It's actually a rather nice, though spartan, suite down here in the sub-sub-basement. And I know you'll be good."

"I'll escape first chance I git!" Slim Thing and Renata seemed to be ready to explode with laughter. "What're you two laughing at?"

"Tell 'im!" said Renata, chortling.

"Yes, do!" said Slim Thing.

"All right." Chinga turned back to her sibling, then addressed Renata. "Better get the doc in first."

Renata,giggling, opened the door and a gentleman entered. You knew at once that he was a physician, and a good one.

Chinga continued, "There we were, me and mom, sold into whoring by our own blood." Chongx squirmed, started say something, didn't. "Mom died of shame soon after you left and I was, shall we say, a trifle miffed by your actions. I swore that you would die. Flaying alive crossed my mind, as did a million more ways over the next years. Oh, I read of your adventures. Yes, I followed your career, from being fired for eating too many of the bananas you were supposed to be inventorying to your last caper with those two from Old Blighty. I researched your entire life right up to this moment, and dear Renata has been a great help these last few years -- thank you, love! And my revenge will soon be complete. Only a couple more days, and we can afford to let you up and around -- gotta get those muscles working again!"

The others in the room waited expectantly for some denouement or other.

"You may have noticed your voice has been cracking recently. My research, and it's been quite thorough!, tells me it isn't because of whisky and cigars. By the look on your face I can reassure you -- it's not cancer.

No, you're reverting! The surgery you had in West Africa, dear sister, wasn't very good by today's standards. You genes are taking over again. Haven't you noticed your nipples are sore? Ah, I see you have! Yes, you're going through puberty again, dear sister! But it'll only take two or three more days and you will be the woman you were intended to be. And I've made sure you have the best of care during this trying time of your life."

Chonga -- her real name -- fainted from this news from her twin sister.

She came to again, aware of the four in the room. A man's voice said, "She's okay now" and the doctor moved away from the patient changed to the platform.

"Wha...what...what's going to happen to me...when it's over?" asked Chonga.

Chinga repied, "Why, I'll see you get a job, of course! Big sister will take care of you. You'll be working for me and I think you'll rise in the ranks pretty quickly. Of course, we have to make it look good so you'll have to start at the bottom."

Chonga: Bottom? Delivering the mail or something to the offices? Stock clerk?

Chinga: Oh my, no! It's not that kind of business! You'll start on your back or on your knees, like all the other girls in my stable! Dear, dear sister, I run high-class establishments which are known as 'brothels.' Renata started that way, and now she's one of my more trusted executives. And so will you. And for now we must leave you to think about the changes going on in your body and what your future holds. But we'll be visiting you now and then. Toodle-o!

And the four left.

Chonga, still dazed from the news, started to sob.


(But what, you ask, of Hector Ballsworthy? of Penelope Rutledge? These loose ends will be tied up soon!)



"

"


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 16 Jun 16 - 11:38 PM

This could work day and night....


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 16 Jun 16 - 11:20 PM

Okay, then...what you need to do is get a spray can of bright yellow paint and do what Rap suggested with THAT. That oughta get his attention, yeah? :)

I don't particularly care about this post, so I bet it will get through.

Let's see if I'm right.


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

Think of that in the middle of his front lawn. Dead grass in his golf-green style lawn.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 16 Jun 16 - 09:50 PM

Weedkiller? Have you not been paying attention? His golf green lawn has been weedkilled over and over and over. He even spreads the shit on my lawn as far as "he can get away with it".


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 16 Jun 16 - 08:04 PM

1. Go get some weedkiller (a small bottle of ready-mixed will do).

2. In the dark of the night, sneak out onto his lawn.

3. Close to the street, spray the weedkiller (using the "stream" setting) to spell the word "F**K."

4. A few feet closer write the word "You."

5. This way the words can be read from his front windows.

6. Go home.

7. Dispose of the weedkiller properly.

Let me know when this is completely, as I have to make a few phone calls then.

LH: It's the Musashi. The Yamato was abducted by an alien spaceship.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 16 Jun 16 - 06:39 PM

Screw you too.

And screw George. He is mowing as it hasn't rained for five hours. Before that, it was wet and cold (10C) for four days and his golf green lawn grew 1/4", tops. Tomorrow, 18C and sunny so he'll be mowing again on Saturday. The man definitely needs to take a course on the fine art of procrastination.


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