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BS: The Mother of all BS threads

Rapparee 19 Oct 12 - 10:34 PM
Amos 19 Oct 12 - 11:57 PM
gnu 20 Oct 12 - 08:22 AM
Rapparee 20 Oct 12 - 10:07 AM
Acme 20 Oct 12 - 11:33 AM
Rapparee 20 Oct 12 - 04:19 PM
Amos 20 Oct 12 - 06:57 PM
Rapparee 20 Oct 12 - 08:04 PM
Amos 20 Oct 12 - 10:46 PM
Amos 21 Oct 12 - 08:09 AM
Rapparee 21 Oct 12 - 10:34 AM
Amos 21 Oct 12 - 11:37 AM
Rapparee 21 Oct 12 - 12:34 PM
gnu 21 Oct 12 - 01:27 PM
Rapparee 21 Oct 12 - 04:10 PM
Amos 21 Oct 12 - 11:43 PM
Rapparee 21 Oct 12 - 11:56 PM
Rapparee 22 Oct 12 - 10:55 AM
Rapparee 22 Oct 12 - 10:58 AM
GUEST,Blind DRunk in Blind River 22 Oct 12 - 11:39 AM
Rapparee 22 Oct 12 - 01:48 PM
GUEST,Blind DRunk in Blind River 22 Oct 12 - 02:12 PM
Amos 22 Oct 12 - 05:14 PM
Rapparee 22 Oct 12 - 06:27 PM
Acme 22 Oct 12 - 09:40 PM
Rapparee 22 Oct 12 - 11:09 PM
Rapparee 23 Oct 12 - 10:19 AM
Amos 23 Oct 12 - 10:22 AM
Rapparee 23 Oct 12 - 03:36 PM
Little Hawk 23 Oct 12 - 03:43 PM
Rapparee 23 Oct 12 - 06:35 PM
Acme 23 Oct 12 - 08:35 PM
GUEST,Chongo Chimp 23 Oct 12 - 09:48 PM
Amos 23 Oct 12 - 11:08 PM
Little Hawk 23 Oct 12 - 11:12 PM
Acme 23 Oct 12 - 11:38 PM
Rapparee 24 Oct 12 - 11:29 AM
GUEST,Chongo Chimp 24 Oct 12 - 11:54 AM
Rapparee 24 Oct 12 - 12:16 PM
Amos 24 Oct 12 - 12:59 PM
Amos 24 Oct 12 - 01:28 PM
Amos 24 Oct 12 - 02:38 PM
gnu 24 Oct 12 - 07:13 PM
Rapparee 24 Oct 12 - 08:11 PM
Bobert 24 Oct 12 - 08:50 PM
Amos 24 Oct 12 - 10:39 PM
Little Hawk 24 Oct 12 - 11:38 PM
Rapparee 24 Oct 12 - 11:43 PM
Amos 25 Oct 12 - 04:28 AM
Rapparee 25 Oct 12 - 09:59 AM
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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 19 Oct 12 - 10:34 PM

Well Mom, I went out and fired about seventy-five rounds through that new shootin' iron of mine. Trigger's a tech, jist a tech, more sensitive than I like but I kin live with it. I'll jist keep mah finger offen the trigger til she's steady on target. That there's cheaper'n havin' a trigger job done by a gunsmith. And since she's a single action she ain't gonna fire until I pull the hammer back anyways.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 19 Oct 12 - 11:57 PM

Ah, Rapparree. You need to get into the blues better, man. For one thing, they are suposed to rhyme. Also, the issue of scansion needs closer thought. Some people have a natural sense of rhythm--that's where the blues was born. Others use Big Iron as a substitute.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 20 Oct 12 - 08:22 AM

Sorry to hear of your MiL, Rap.

Thanks SRS.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 20 Oct 12 - 10:07 AM

Okay, Amos. How's this? I wrote it last night. It's got scansion, it's got rhyme, it's got blues, who could ask for anything more?

No, no! go not to Lethe, neither twist        
Wolf's-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine;        
Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kist        
By nightshade, ruby grape of Proserpine;        
Make not your rosary of yew-berries,                 
Nor let the beetle, nor the death-moth be        
Your mournful Psyche, nor the downy owl        
A partner in your sorrow's mysteries;        
For shade to shade will come too drowsily,        
And drown the wakeful anguish of the soul.        

Oh, yeah....

But when the melancholy fit shall fall        
Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud,        
That fosters the droop-headed flowers all,        
And hides the green hill in an April shroud;        
Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose,        
Or on the rainbow of the salt sand-wave,        
Or on the wealth of globčd peonies;        
Or if thy mistress some rich anger shows,        
Emprison her soft hand, and let her rave,        
And feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes.        

Mah woman's gone...

She dwells with Beauty?Beauty that must die;        
And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips        
Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh,        
Turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips:        
Ay, in the very temple of Delight        
Veil'd Melancholy has her sovran shrine,        
Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue        
Can burst Joy's grape against his palate fine;        
His soul shall taste the sadness of her might,        
And be among her cloudy trophies hung.

Oh, yeah!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 20 Oct 12 - 11:33 AM

Keats would not be amused.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 20 Oct 12 - 04:19 PM

Okay, how about this one? I wrote it this morning!

Mah woman done left me
And all I kin say is
Hence vain deluding Joys,
The brood of Folly without father bred,
How little you bested,
Or fill the fixed mind with all your toys;
Dwell in some idle brain,
And fancies fond with gaudy shapes possess,
As thick and numberless
As the gay motes that people the sunbeams,
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,
O'er-laid with black, staid Wisdom's hue;
Black, but such as in esteem,
Prince Memnon's sister might beseem,
Or that starr'd Ethiop queen that strove
To set her beauty's praise above
The sea nymphs, and their powers offended.
Oh yeah!
Yet thou art higher far descended,
Thee bright-hair'd Vesta long of yore,
To solitary Saturn bore;
His daughter she (in Saturn's reign,
Such mixture was not held a stain)
Oft in glimmering bow'rs and glades
He met her, and in secret shades
Of woody Ida's inmost grove,
While yet there was no fear of Jove.
Come pensive nun, devout and pure,
Sober, stedfast, and demure,
All in a robe of darkest grain,
Flowing with majestic train,
And sable stole of cypress lawn,
Over thy decent shoulders drawn.
Come, but keep thy wonted state,
With ev'n step, and musing gait,
And looks commercing with the skies,
Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes:
There held in holy passion still,
Forget thyself to marble, till
With a sad leaden downward cast,
Thou fix them on the earth as fast.
I'll tell it, bro!
And join with thee calm Peace, and Quiet,
Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet,
And hears the Muses in a ring,
Aye round about Jove's altar sing.
Cuz my woman done left me.
And add to these retired Leisure,
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'er th' accustom'd oak.
Oh Cindy...oh Cindy....
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 wand'ring Moon,
Riding near her highest noon,
Like one that had been led astray
Through the heav'ns wide pathless 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 curfew sound,
Over some wide-water'd shore,
Swinging slow with sullen roar;
Or if the air will not permit,
Some 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 bellman's drowsy charm,
To bless the doors from nightly harm.
Or let my lamp at midnight hour,
Be seen in some high lonely tow'r,
Where I may oft out-watch the Bear,
With thrice great Hermes, or unsphere
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 dćmons that are found
In fire, air, flood, or under ground,
Whose power hath a true consent
With planet, or with element.
Yeah, oh yeah!
Sometime let gorgeous Tragedy
In sceptr'd pall come sweeping by,
Presenting Thebes', or Pelop's line,
Or the tale of Troy divine,
Or what (though rare) of later age,
Ennobled hath the buskin'd stage.
But, O sad Virgin, that thy power
Might raise Musćus 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 virtuous ring and glass,
And of the wond'rous horse of brass,
On which the Tartar king did ride;
And if aught else, great bards beside,
In sage and solemn tunes have sung,
Of tourneys and of trophies hung,
Of forests, and enchantments drear,
Where more is meant than meets the ear.
Thus, Night, oft see me in thy pale career,
Till civil-suited Morn appear,
Not trick'd and frounc'd as she was wont,
With the Attic boy to hunt,
But kerchief'd 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 rustling leaves,
With minute-drops from off the eaves.
And when the Sun begins to fling
His flaring beams, me, goddess, bring
To arched walks of twilight groves,
And shadows brown that Sylvan loves,
Of pine, or monumental oak,
Where the rude axe 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 profaner eye may look,
Hide me from Day's garish eye,
While the bee with honied thigh,
That at her flow'ry 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 portraiture display'd,
Softly on my eye-lids laid.
And as I wake, sweet music breathe
Above, about, or underneath,
Sent by some spirit to mortals good,
Or th' unseen Genius of the wood.

Since my baby done left me,
But let my due feet never fail
To walk the studious cloister's pale,
And love the high embowed roof,
With antique pillars massy proof,
And storied windows richly dight,
Casting a dim religious light.
There let the pealing organ blow,
To the full-voic'd quire below,
In service high, and anthems clear,
As may with sweetness, through mine ear,
Dissolve me into ecstasies,
And bring all Heav'n before mine eyes.
And may at last my weary age
Find out the peaceful 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, Melancholy, give,
And I with thee will choose to live.
Cause my woman's gone gone.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 20 Oct 12 - 06:57 PM

Instead of sitting around an' Miltin' you should be doing something to Keats your spirits up. Find something to re-Joyce about before you get so Frosted you can't see straight, ya know whaddImeen?



A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 20 Oct 12 - 08:04 PM

Shelley read some poetry? Or I could write some and get my Wordsworth. Ah, yes, that would be a Marvellous thing to do! I'll start as soon as I finish my Ferlinghetti and meatballs! I'll Parker in my easy chair and put my thoughts in Blake and Wright until I'm Dunne. (Okay, I Owen up to the puns, some of which are pretty Wilde, but I want to be Clare about what I'm to do.)


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 20 Oct 12 - 10:46 PM

Oh. my God! Someone has created a monster!!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 21 Oct 12 - 08:09 AM

Folly folly folly folly
Deck us all with hawsers jolly
Bring us a complaisant filly!
Fond of fondue is our Billy!
In the incandescent candle
Can't you see the cowboy handle?
Hiding in the Woods of Bolly,
Folly folly folly folly!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 21 Oct 12 - 10:34 AM

Amos, I think that it would be meat to drive a steak through the heart of the poetry puns. While they were not the wurst I could do (and I thought some were real wieners), I don't want to hear you beef about it. I'll pork myself here in this chair and de-liver some other tripe.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 21 Oct 12 - 11:37 AM

I know beating on meat is a specialty of yours, sir, but you seem to have outflanked yourself. You should be fed to the loins for giving tongue to such lambent legginess. Hoof to, and lower your burger! You are all overdone.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 21 Oct 12 - 12:34 PM

I can hardly stomach any more of this. I just don't hoof the guts, I guess, for bone a good punster. As my mother used to say when we were out fishing, "Roast to shore, we're not going to catch enough to make patella no matter how you strain your mussels." And my grandmother would say, "I'm afraid you're right, Oyster. We'd better take it on the lamb before the game warden butters in."


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 21 Oct 12 - 01:27 PM

Scallops are on sale for $6.99 a pound here. Frozen, yes, but they are soooo tastey. I fry em in marg with a little canola oil and they melt in yer mouth. Not all 12 pounds... I shall bake, I shall chowder, I shall pâté all night long.

What? Just as good as some of yours so don't carp about it fer cod's sake!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 21 Oct 12 - 04:10 PM

Tell it to Amos. He started it. He put the fat in the fire, for lard's sake! I kidney you not! Mullet over and you'll sea! He'll deny it, but he's sung that tuna over for a whale of a long time and to no porpoise. He's the kid who will bleat about it, mutton about Tuesday he'll have forgotten.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 21 Oct 12 - 11:43 PM

What baloney! R. is trying to assert his chops, but the real story is vached-ly different. I am afraid the gateau happiness is too strait for him.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 21 Oct 12 - 11:56 PM

Hey, I'm a strait shooter, a member of both the Gene Autry and Roy Rogers clubs!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 22 Oct 12 - 10:55 AM

Here are The Rules:

Riders' Rules by Roy Rogers

    Be neat and clean.
    Be courteous and polite.
    Always obey your parents.
    Protect the weak and help them.
    Be brave but never take chances.
    Study hard and learn all you can.
    Be kind to animals and take care of them.
    Eat all your food and never waste any.
    Love God and go to Sunday school regularly.
    Always respect our flag and our country.

Gene Autry's Cowboy Code

1. The Cowboy must never shoot first, hit a smaller man, or take unfair advantage.
2. He must never go back on his word, or a trust confided in him.
3. He must always tell the truth.
4. He must be gentle with children, the elderly, and animals.
5. He must not advocate or possess racially or religiously intolerant ideas.
6. He must help people in distress.
7. He must be a good worker.
8. He must keep himself clean in thought, speech, action, and personal habits.
9. He must respect women, parents, and his nation's laws.
10. The Cowboy is a patriot.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 22 Oct 12 - 10:58 AM

The Code Of The West

Don't inquire into a person's past. Take the measure of a man for what he is today.

Never steal another man's horse. A horse thief pays with his life.

Defend yourself whenever necessary.

Look out for your own.

Remove your guns before sitting at the dining table.

Never order anything weaker than whiskey.

Don't make a threat without expecting dire consequences.

Never pass anyone on the trail without saying "Howdy".

When approaching someone from behind, give a loud greeting before you get within shooting range.

Don't wave at a man on a horse, as it might spook the horse. A nod is the proper greeting.

After you pass someone on the trail, don't look back at him. It implies you don't trust him.

Riding another man's horse without his permission is nearly as bad as making love to his wife. Never even bother another man's horse.

Always fill your whiskey glass to the brim.

A cowboy doesn't talk much; he saves his breath for breathing.

No matter how weary and hungry you are after a long day in the saddle, always tend to your horse's needs before your own, and get your horse some feed before you eat.

Cuss all you want, but only around men, horses and cows.

Complain about the cooking and you become the cook.

Always drink your whiskey with your gun hand, to show your friendly intentions.

Do not practice ingratitude.

A cowboy is pleasant even when out of sorts. Complaining is what quitters do, and cowboys hate quitters.

Always be courageous. Cowards aren't tolerated in any outfit worth its salt.

A cowboy always helps someone in need, even a stranger or an enemy.

Never try on another man's hat.

Be hospitable to strangers. Anyone who wanders in, including an enemy, is welcome at the dinner table. The same was true for riders who joined cowboys on the range.

Give your enemy a fighting chance.

Mever wake another man by shaking or touching him, as he might wake suddenly and shoot you.

Real cowboys are modest. A braggert who is "all gurgle and no guts" is not tolerated.

        





    Be there for a friend when he needs you.

    Drinking on duty is grounds for instant dismissal and blacklisting.

    A cowboy is loyal to his "brand," to his friends, and those he rides with.

    Never shoot an unarmed or unwarned enemy. This was also known as "the rattlesnake code": always warn before you strike. However, if a man was being stalked, this could be ignored.

    Never shoot a woman no matter what.

    Consideration for others is central to the code, such as: Don't stir up dust around the chuckwagon, don't wake up the wrong man for herd duty, etc.

    Respect the land and the environment by not smoking in hazardous fire areas, disfiguring rocks, trees, or other natural areas.

    Honesty is absolute - your word is your bond, a handshake is more binding than a contract.

    Live by the Golden Rule


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: GUEST,Blind DRunk in Blind River
Date: 22 Oct 12 - 11:39 AM

Oh yeah? Well, here is...

The, like, Code Of The East, eh?

Always try to find out stuff abowt a a person's passed. You might need it so, like, you can enbarrass them and get some advanatagge over them.

Steal another man's horse, bike, car, whatever...if he ain't watchin'. He shoulda been watchin', right?

Defend yourself whenever necessary. This I agree with!

Look out for your own. You bet yer flippin' life!

Remove your pants before sittin' on hte john.

Never order anything weaker than beer.

Don't make a threat without first preparin' a esxcape root.

Never pass anyone on the trail without saying "Flip off, loozer!".

When approachin' someone from behind, try to put a paper sine on his back that says "Kick my ass!" or just do it yerself.

Don't wave at a cop. They get suspishious real easy, eh?

After you pass a cop, don't look back at him. It implies you don't trust him....which is pretty flippin' obveous, eh?

Ridin' another man's bike or snowmobbile without his permission is almost as normle as havin' sex with his wife, but do NOT ever try it with another man's moose.

Always fill yer beer glass so it foams over just a bit.

A real man don't talk much; he saves his breath for breathin' and for tokin' up.

No matter how weary and hungry you are after a long day bummin' smokes, always try a move on the waitress who is havin' a smoke break behind the Tim's donuts. You never know when she might say "yes".

Cuss all you want, but not in court, eh? They don't like it for some reason.

Complain about the cookin' and you will get even more food.

Always drink your beer with your free hand, jerk off with the other one.

Do not jerk off after handlin' hot peppers, cayen pepper, and other stuff like that.

A real man don't give a FLIP! He complains a lot, cos the skweeky wheel gets the greese, eh?

Avoid unnnecssary danger. Cowards live way longer than heroes do.

A real man always helps someone, even a stranger or an enemy, if there is a way of gettin' some free beer from them in return.

Never use another man's rubber!

Be hospitable to chicks. Any female who wanders in, includin' even a total absolloot skank, is welcome at the dinner table, in the front hall, the backyard, the bedroom, on the roof, the basement floor...basically anywheres.

NEVER give your enemy a fightin' chance! Hit him when he ain't lookin'.

Never wake another man by shakin' or touchin' him, as he might reelize you are robbin' his stash.

Real men boast constantly, eh? The one who can brag the longest, the loudest, and the best will probly get a date with one of the waiterresses at the Iron Horse after work.

And there ya have it! The Code of the East.

- Shane


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 22 Oct 12 - 01:48 PM

Yup, Shame. "All gurgle and no guts."

Look, why don't you come and visit? I'll get you all the beer you can drink, and there are some places in these mountains where are Certain Herb is grown. Lots of the ladies out here would look kindly upon you, too, because they're lonely (if you take my meaning). I can't tell you who they are, but four or five really hardrock headbangers have homes near town -- they like the mountains here, probably because of the Herb I mentioned. Like I said, I can't tell you who they are, but one of them has a first name like that thing a wheel goes around on and his last name is a kind of flower; I could get you into a jammin' session at his place if you'd like.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: GUEST,Blind DRunk in Blind River
Date: 22 Oct 12 - 02:12 PM

Wow! Sounds like a flippin' ;paradice, Rap! I gotta see if I can find bus money...and one of them forged passports.

- Shane


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 22 Oct 12 - 05:14 PM

I am SO sharing the Cowboy rules on Facebook, dood! They are, like, AWESOME and kewl.


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 22 Oct 12 - 06:27 PM

The Cowboy Code
A Song by Ol' Rapparee

Don't shoot nobody in the back
Don't shoot nobody in the back
It's agin the Cowboy Code
And they'll lynch ya down the road
Don'tcha shoot nobody in the back.

Never take yer whiskey any way but neat
Never take yer whiskey any way but neat
It's agin the Cowboy Code
And they'll think ya are a toad
Don'tcha take yer whiskey any way but neat.

Respect wimmen folks all the time
Respect wimmen folks all the time
Cuz that's the Cowboy Code
Tho' yer thing burns from the load
Respect wimmen folks all the time.

CHORUS: Yippy-ti-yi-yo fal-la-la hey derry down.

...I'm still working on the rest.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 22 Oct 12 - 09:40 PM

OMG

Look away for just a minute and see what happens. They cycle through both atrocious food puns AND the cowboy code.

I'll sum it up: Don't squat on your spurs while you're cooking your coneys.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 22 Oct 12 - 11:09 PM

Ma'am, it don't pay ta turn yer back when Amos is dealin'. He'll deal off the bottom of a deck that's frozen solid while he's usin' a shiner.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 23 Oct 12 - 10:19 AM

Never dig yer well near the outhouse
Never dig yer well near the outhouse
It's against the Cowboy Code
And the water'd choke a toad
Never dig yer well near the outhouse.

CHORUS (a rousing one)

Always try to take a bath once a year
Always try to take a bath once a year
Cuz that's the Cowboy Code
And git yer top hair mowed
Always try to take a bath once a year.

(ad lib CHORUS)


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 23 Oct 12 - 10:22 AM

Awright, Rapparree, You double-dealing fork-tongued sidewinder, ya done slurred my name to the wimminfolk, and I ain't a-gonna stand fer it! You claim to be pretty good witht hose Crayolas, boy. So DRAW.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 23 Oct 12 - 03:36 PM

Why you low-down, dry-gulchin', back-shootin', horse-stealin', sarsaparilla-drinkin', sheep-farmin', Apple lover! I live by the Code of the West and the Cowboy Code: you gotta draw first!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 23 Oct 12 - 03:43 PM

"Yeah, so what if NOBODY draws first? Then what? You gonna stand there all day sayin' "DRAW!" at each other till the sun goes down and it gets too dark to shoot?"

That's what Chongo said. He thinks you guys are blowhards.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 23 Oct 12 - 06:35 PM

Hot doggies! I git ta shoot Chonga, iffen s/he'll meet me like the man s/he ain't, six-guns on hips, at High Noon outside the Bourbon Barrel Saloon. But I reckon s/he'll try ta back-shoot me instead. S/he ain't real big on a fair showdown.

Meanwhile me 'n' Amos are gonna go have drink.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 23 Oct 12 - 08:35 PM

I'll have one also. It has been that kind of day.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: GUEST,Chongo Chimp
Date: 23 Oct 12 - 09:48 PM

Me too. A drink would be the perfect thing right now.

- Chongo


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 23 Oct 12 - 11:08 PM

Single malt on ice--perfect nightcap. But don't give Chongo one. If he knocks back a shot it'll go all over the floor,being as how he is imaginary, you know.


Drink just goes right through him.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 23 Oct 12 - 11:12 PM

He regards you as pretty insubstantial too, but he's usually polite enough not to say so. ;-)


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 23 Oct 12 - 11:38 PM

A single malt scotch is good, but earlier in the evening. Not right before bedtime, it interferes with falling to sleep normally.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 24 Oct 12 - 11:29 AM

And in the morning. Wakes you up, gets you ready for the day, helps you get "your man for breakfast." Can't hardly start the day out here in The Wilde Weste without shootin' somebody that needs shootin', can ya?


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: GUEST,Chongo Chimp
Date: 24 Oct 12 - 11:54 AM

When I think of Amos, what comes to mind is somethin' sorta like a vague mist that rises from a swamp in the mornin' and burns off in the sun after about a minute or so. You might think it's there...and then it's not. Encounterin' Amos in real life would be like encounterin' a dry fart that is dispersin' in a gentle breeze...briefly disconcertin' and decidedly unappealin', but not really what one would call a major problem. If it happened to me, I'd just hold my breath for a few seconds and keep walkin'.

- Chongo


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

That little miasma would asphyxiate you, Chonga.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 24 Oct 12 - 12:59 PM

WHat does it mean when an imaginary being tries to be insulting? I chuckle in my sleeve at the notion of Chongo running through mental spaces trying out various tricks of the mind to try and make me feel bad, all the while avoiding encounters with his furious sister Chinga. Strenuous living for such a nebulous creature, indeed! LOL! Sparrow-farts are more substantial. At least they can be measured in the real world. Chongo goes right through the real world, unheeded, unnoticed, forgiven, like a bad idea in a convent full of nuns.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 24 Oct 12 - 01:28 PM

The Crash of the Mudcat Server by Amos
(Tune: On Springfield Mountain)

In Pennsylvania, there did dwell
An NT Server, I knew well
This server's disks and RAM and FAT
were dedicated to the 'Cat.

Chorus:
O toory oory, reety-reet,
Escape, Control and Alt-Delete!

One day this server of the race
A single digit, did misplace
And in a register so deep
A hex code conflict soon did creep!

Chorus

This simple error, small and fine
Soon crashed the Cat's collective mind!
Dismay and grief did quickly spread!
And several Mudcats lost their heads

Brave Dave, the Canuck sailor bold
Upon his floor did quickly fold.
While lost to chat, our gentle Ann
Burned all the cookies in the pan!

Chorus

Joe Offer did his very best
To help dear Allison find a guest
While Max stayed up through half the night
Until the damn machine ran right

While Sorcha, sophocleese and Kat
Feared that they might be going bats
And Amos ran around the halls
Suffering symptoms of withdrawal!

Chorus

But now the Mudcat's back on line
And everything seems to be fine
One moral we can carry back!
If you must get hooked, please get a Mac!

Chorus


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 24 Oct 12 - 02:38 PM

Looks like someone is dissing Winona. Time to pick up the gauntlet, Hawkster!!


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 24 Oct 12 - 07:13 PM

That Nona link is disgusting. Sick people abound. Trying to make $ off her in such... oh, just disgusting!

Sparrow-farts? I'd say hummingbird farts as they would surely be less in volume (dieregardin quality, of course (sorry for the bathroom humour)) no?... but such farts outweigh by far the farts of all others because the hummingbird is king. The Hbird rules all others. The smallest bird of all can kick ANY other bird's ass and that includes one at a time or all comers at once. They can kick cat ass, squirrel ass, weasel ass, coon ass... they are... simply... the king of birds.

No shit, man. I don't want a weenie dog or an Irish Wolfhound (be still my heart) or a chimp or any... I want a flock of Hbirds... at my command. Then, the next time that little yappy dog (dogsss... on BOTH sides of me) starts barking at 6AM, I'll shall instruct my servants to LOOSE THE HUMMERS! and collect the dead.

Do those dog whistles that only dogs can hear really work? If so, I might get one. Just an experiment. Beats some of my other thoughts regarding my neighbours' intrusion on the quiet enjoyment of my property, as per British Common Fucking Law.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 24 Oct 12 - 08:11 PM

gnu, your statements regarding hummingbird flatulence are correct as far as they go. But the hummingbird, of any species, can control their output, so to speak, for quantity, quality, and velocity. Being as small as they are, hummingbirds can and do use this ability to literally rocket to supersonic speeds and skewer those aggressors who dare attack them with their long, sharp bills. These bills then break off and re-grow in a couple of days.

Hummingbirds, when attacked, emit a "hum" for help that brings other hummingbirds from great distnces. It is a little known fact that many animals which are thought to be porcupines are really guinea pigs, raccoons, and other animals which thought they'd take on a hummingbird and found a flock of the little critters instead. This sort of attack is known to ornithologists as a "gang hum."


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Bobert
Date: 24 Oct 12 - 08:50 PM

Heck of a song, Amos...

B~


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 24 Oct 12 - 10:39 PM

Imagine the slide-steel whine of Dylan's "Highway 61 Revisited" with the drums wailing behind, that hard rocking whine that tells you the rock and roll is gonna be good, opening into this:

Oh God told Maxwell, "Build me a Site!"
Max says, "Chill, I been drinkin' all night"
God say, "Tough." Max say, "What?"
God say, "You can do what you want Max, but
Just don't come knocking at no Pearly Gate!"
Well Max says, "Just what d'ye want this site to say?"
God says, "Let's just call it Mudcat Cafe."

Well Old Man Spaw he had a bloody nose
Stuck in a ward with paper-towel clothes
He asked the doctors, where can I go
Doctor said there's only one place I know
Where they'll still love you, when you're old and gray...
Spaw sez, "Quick, man, show me the way!"
Doc says, "It's down at the Mudcate Cafe".

Well Rick the Field said to Big Joe King,
I got forty second-hand folkies who cain't sing
And a ream of old Gibsons with broken strings
Do you know where I can get rid of these things?
And Big Joe said let me think if there ain't some way...
And he hands old Rick a blue clicky piece of Cleigh
"Just take it all down to that Mudcate Cafe".

Now the fifteenth newbie on the fortieth thread
Said the jargon was gettin' stuck in her head
And the Songbook scansion was ruining her night!
So Troll said come here and step into the light... he says hmm you're right
Let me tell the Gaelic Goddess, she'll make it all OK,
But the Gaelic Goddess, she was having her way
With a sad-eyed poet out at the Mudcat Cafe.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Little Hawk
Date: 24 Oct 12 - 11:38 PM

Ha! Good stuff, Amos.

Now, why should I respond to some moron on Facebook dissing the lovely and talented Winona Ryder? Really, my time would be better spent doing something like...defending Chongo. ;-) Yessir.

So, here goes. Amos, you seem bent on asserting that Chongo has no corporial reality. You go on to deny his very existence. Yet I believe it was YOU who burdened the world with tales about his alleged sister Chinga, and you keep insisting that SHE DOES exist...just so you can pester Chongo about it and make him feel guilty.

You can't have it both ways, sir!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 24 Oct 12 - 11:43 PM

Sure you can!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 25 Oct 12 - 04:28 AM

I already HAVE it both ways, sir! I urge you to confront the situation as it is!

A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 25 Oct 12 - 09:59 AM

An exegesis of LH's last post points up the expectation of those who have not yet achieved the Überzeitgeist necessary for a full appreciation of Lebenwieesscheint and Lebenalswahrheit, or more precisely, Wahrheitdeslebens. he must, obviously, come to grips with the Σπήλαιο σκιά in which he currently exists and extract from it the Σπηλιά του πραγματικού and from that move into the ηλιοφάνεια του πραγματικού so that he can at last experience the 실제의 현실입니다 promised by those, who like myself, are Truly Understand.

Amos ain't all there yet either.


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