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BS: The Mother of all BS threads

Amos 26 Sep 06 - 09:10 AM
Rapparee 26 Sep 06 - 09:04 AM
Rapparee 25 Sep 06 - 09:56 PM
JennyO 25 Sep 06 - 09:54 PM
Rapparee 25 Sep 06 - 07:10 PM
Rapparee 25 Sep 06 - 06:37 PM
Amos 25 Sep 06 - 05:23 PM
Amos 25 Sep 06 - 04:43 PM
Rapparee 25 Sep 06 - 04:16 PM
Bunnahabhain 25 Sep 06 - 03:56 PM
Rapparee 25 Sep 06 - 02:57 PM
Rapparee 25 Sep 06 - 02:47 PM
Acme 25 Sep 06 - 02:40 PM
Acme 25 Sep 06 - 12:36 PM
JennyO 25 Sep 06 - 11:51 AM
Rapparee 25 Sep 06 - 11:49 AM
Amos 25 Sep 06 - 11:16 AM
Rapparee 25 Sep 06 - 11:11 AM
JennyO 25 Sep 06 - 10:33 AM
Acme 25 Sep 06 - 10:24 AM
number 6 25 Sep 06 - 09:36 AM
Rapparee 25 Sep 06 - 09:34 AM
Amos 25 Sep 06 - 09:15 AM
Rapparee 25 Sep 06 - 09:08 AM
Amos 25 Sep 06 - 09:00 AM
beardedbruce 25 Sep 06 - 08:59 AM
Bunnahabhain 25 Sep 06 - 08:58 AM
Bunnahabhain 25 Sep 06 - 08:52 AM
Rapparee 25 Sep 06 - 08:48 AM
JennyO 25 Sep 06 - 12:01 AM
number 6 24 Sep 06 - 11:36 PM
Amos 24 Sep 06 - 11:20 PM
Rapparee 24 Sep 06 - 11:12 PM
number 6 24 Sep 06 - 10:30 PM
Amos 24 Sep 06 - 09:57 PM
Rapparee 24 Sep 06 - 09:45 PM
Amos 24 Sep 06 - 07:16 PM
Rapparee 24 Sep 06 - 07:12 PM
Amos 24 Sep 06 - 06:43 PM
Bunnahabhain 24 Sep 06 - 06:25 PM
Amos 24 Sep 06 - 04:31 PM
Amos 24 Sep 06 - 02:05 PM
Amos 24 Sep 06 - 12:27 PM
Charley Noble 24 Sep 06 - 10:41 AM
Amos 24 Sep 06 - 01:33 AM
Acme 24 Sep 06 - 12:57 AM
Rapparee 23 Sep 06 - 09:54 PM
Amos 23 Sep 06 - 12:52 AM
Acme 23 Sep 06 - 12:43 AM
Amos 22 Sep 06 - 07:04 PM
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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 26 Sep 06 - 09:10 AM

Lessee. It takes you 19 hours to brag about trumpets. You cut and paste other people's stuff while others strive to compose something more worthy and original. You scald and bruise Mom and then you comlain about "doing all the heavy lifting". You, sirrah, are a goldbrick. A classic illustration of the old saw, "Ineptitude is the last refuge of the inexperienced....". OR whatever.

A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 26 Sep 06 - 09:04 AM

Oops. Sorry, Mom. It seems like I have to do all the heavy lifting around here. Sure hope that doesn't leave a nasty ol' bruise. Here, have some more tea. Oops. Sorry, Mom. Sure hope that doesn't leave a nasty ol' scar.

Maybe I'd better not try to help so much, huh?


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 25 Sep 06 - 09:56 PM

Perhaps, in the interest of full disclosure, I should mention that I am again practicing my trumpet. Hopefully my long spate of dental work is now over and I can get back to what is really important.

A Song for St. Cecilia's Day, 1687
by John "Gutbucket" Dryden


From harmony, from heavenly harmony,        
      This universal frame began:        
When nature underneath a heap        
      Of jarring atoms lay,        
    And could not heave her head,                 
The tuneful voice was heard from high,        
    'Arise, ye more than dead!'        
Then cold, and hot, and moist, and dry,        
In order to their stations leap,        
    And Music's power obey.        
From harmony, from heavenly harmony,        
   This universal frame began:        
   From harmony to harmony        
Through all the compass of the notes it ran,        
The diapason closing full in Man.        

What passion cannot Music raise and quell?        
    When Jubal struck the chorded shell,        
His listening brethren stood around,        
    And, wondering, on their faces fell        
To worship that celestial sound:        
Less than a God they thought there could not dwell        
    Within the hollow of that shell,        
    That spoke so sweetly, and so well.        
What passion cannot Music raise and quell?        

The trumpet's loud clangour        
      Excites us to arms,        
    With shrill notes of anger,        
      And mortal alarms.        
The double double double beat        
      Of the thundering drum        
      Cries Hark! the foes come;        
Charge, charge, 'tis too late to retreat!        

    The soft complaining flute,        
    In dying notes, discovers        
    The woes of hopeless lovers,        
Whose dirge is whisper'd by the warbling lute.        

    Sharp violins proclaim        
Their jealous pangs and desperation,        
Fury, frantic indignation,        
Depth of pains, and height of passion,        
    For the fair, disdainful dame.        

    But O, what art can teach,        
    What human voice can reach,        
      The sacred organ's praise?        
    Notes inspiring holy love,        
Notes that wing their heavenly ways        
    To mend the choirs above.        

Orpheus could lead the savage race;        
And trees unrooted left their place,        
    Sequacious of the lyre;        
But bright Cecilia rais'd the wonder higher:        
When to her organ vocal breath was given,        
An angel heard, and straight appear'd        
    Mistaking Earth for Heaven.        

GRAND CHORUS.

As from the power of sacred lays        
The spheres began to move,        
And sung the great Creator's praise        
To all the Blest above;        
So when the last and dreadful hour        
This crumbling pageant shall devour,        
The trumpet shall be heard on high,        
The dead shall live, the living die,        
And Music shall untune the sky!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: JennyO
Date: 25 Sep 06 - 09:54 PM

Rapaire said 'trumpeters rule'. Congratulations on that very long well-held note! Has anybody bought you that drink yet? Here's one - hope you like Guinness (_)


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 25 Sep 06 - 07:10 PM

Children of the Mother of All! you shall yet be victorious!        
You shall yet laugh to scorn the attacks of all the remainder of the earth.                 

No danger shall balk MOAB's lovers;        
If need be, a thousand shall sternly immolate themselves for one.
        

                        -- Junior Whitman, Joints of Grass
                           (Haight-Ashbury: Stoner Publications, 1966)


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 25 Sep 06 - 06:37 PM

Let there be no moaning at the Bar
When I am all at sea.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 25 Sep 06 - 05:23 PM

Oh, I was remiss and mistaken and wrong. There was no attack, which is why I did not detect one. I withdraw my machismo ramblings herewith.

To make it up to anyone who was miffed by them, I hereby provide you with complete instructions for transiting the Panama Canal. Well...ya never know!


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 25 Sep 06 - 04:43 PM

Enough! Let's carve this poltroon up!
And serve him up as venison!
He's not content to steal from trash,
But now impugns Lord Tennyson!!
Oh, wicked sloth, oh, shadowed mind!
How dark the soul that wed it!
Why canst thou not, in simple lines
Give good and simple credit?

(Ya know, I hate it when people are so scared of me that won't even let me know when they are attacking, It really ruins the game. Some folks are just too subtle for words, and their subtleties pull them right down off the ole radar.) Nihil est quid nihil facit, I always say.

A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 25 Sep 06 - 04:16 PM

My good blade carves the casques of men,        
My tough lance thrusteth sure,        
My strength is as the strength of ten,        
Because my heart is pure.        
The shattering trumpet shrilleth high,              
The hard brands shiver on the steel,        
The splinter'd spear-shafts crack and fly,        
The horse and rider reel:        
They reel, they roll in clanging lists,        
And when the tide of combat stands,              
Perfume and flowers fall in showers,        
And I go stand upon my hands.

How sweet are looks that ladies bend        
On whom their favors fall!        
For them I battle till the end,              
To save from shame and thrall:        
But all my heart is drawn above,        
My knees are bow'd in crypt and shrine:        
I never felt the kiss of love,        
Nor maiden's hand in mine.              
More bounteous aspects on me beam,        
Me mightier transports move and thrill;        
So keep I fair thro' faith and prayer        
A virgin heart -- this makes me ill.        

When down the stormy crescent goes,              
A light before me swims,        
Between dark stems the forest glows,        
I hear a noise of hymns:        
Then by some secret shrine I ride;        
I hear a voice, but none are there;              
The stalls are void, the doors are wide,        
The tapers burning fair.        
Fair gleams the snowy altar-cloth,        
The silver vessels sparkle, gleam,        
The shrill bell rings, the censer swings,              
For I have found a public toilet CLEAN!        

Sometimes on lonely mountain-meres        
I find a magic bark;        
I leap on board: no helmsman steers:        
I float till all is dark.              
A gentle sound, an awful light!        
Three angels bear the holy Grail:        
With folded feet, in stoles of white,        
On sleeping wings they fail.        
Ah, blessed vision! Blood of God!              
My spirit seeks some seedy bars,        
As down dark throats the whisky floats,        
And I finish many jars.        

When on my goodly charger borne        
Thro' dreaming towns I go,              
The cock crows ere the Christmas morn,        
The streets are full of snow.        
The tempest crackles on the leads,        
And soaks my rusting helm and mail;        
But o'er the dark a glory spreads,              
And gilds the driving hail.        
I leave the plain, I climb the height;        
No branchy thicket shelter yields;        
But bird-like forms in whistling storms        
Fly o'er and drop used food on me.              

A maiden knight ? to me is given        
Such hope, I know not fear;        
I yearn to breathe the airs of heaven        
That often meet me here.        
I muse on joy that will not cease,              
Pure spaces cloth'd in living beams,        
Pure lilies of eternal peace,        
Whose odors haunt my dreams;        
And, stricken by an angel's hand,        
This mortal armor that I wear,              
This weight and size, this heart and eyes,        
The trap-door's rusted shut, I fear.        

The clouds are broken in the sky,        
And thro' the mountain-plat        
A rolling organ-harmony              
Swells up, off-key and flat.        
Then move the trees, the copses nod,        
Wings flutter, voices hover clear:        
"O just and faithful knight of God!        
Ride on! the jakes are near."              
So pass I outhouse, loo, and latrine,        
By bridge and ford, by park and pale,        
Cross-legg'ed I ride, whate'er betide,        
For I must find a urinal.

                   Al, Fred's Lard's ten songs winner, 1885.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Bunnahabhain
Date: 25 Sep 06 - 03:56 PM

In rough terms, it just took Rapiere 19 hours to say 'trumpets rule'. If you can hold a few notes that long then you dseserves a prize, and a drink....


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 25 Sep 06 - 02:57 PM

Just ask Barky if you don't believe it.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 25 Sep 06 - 02:47 PM

ule!!!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 25 Sep 06 - 02:40 PM

Okay. All is clear. There was some close-to-the-vest cross-thread (in the non-hardware sense) stuff going on. Amos was the target--isn't that often the case?

Whatever happened to Rapaire's trumpet?


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 25 Sep 06 - 12:36 PM

We're up to 14159 and I've just had a PM asking what we're talking about and why I commented about the random posting of poetry--as if I'm out of line for suggesting that new posters read the entire thread from beginning to end and post something original?

I think it is too far in the game to stop and say why we're here--Gluon and the freds know, and many others who have joined us through the years know. All it takes is backing up a few pages. Read 1000 posts, or 500. Maybe even just 100 or 50, and you'll get the idea. But don't get defensive if after 14,158 we are not putting a disclaimer at the top of every page of 50, spelling out our raison d'être!

Pull up your socks (you might want to check for ticks, first, this time of year), number6, and go with the flow. That is all that we ask!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: JennyO
Date: 25 Sep 06 - 11:51 AM

"I hear, yet say not much, yet hear the more"
Shakespeare - Henry IV, Act iv, Sc.1


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 25 Sep 06 - 11:49 AM

rs r


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 25 Sep 06 - 11:16 AM

Again the Plagiarists announce!
Here this one trumpets,That one bleats,
And in their theft their hearts denounce,
Reciting "Eve of Saint Agnes", Keats.
Or lifting earlier artists still,
More calumny he earns
By crowing, like a cock-'o-hill,
"Ah, WOe Is Me", by Burns.
The deft and clever fingers light,
Of those who run this ring at night
And Fagan-like bring home to Mother
Possessions lifted from another,
Will soon reveal what they are doin'
And bring their Mother dear to ruin
Unless their wicked, proud concession
Soon healéd is by pure confession.

James Wickcroft Stopes
"Country Ballads of Rogues, Footpads, and other False Heroes"
London, 1897


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 25 Sep 06 - 11:11 AM

te


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: JennyO
Date: 25 Sep 06 - 10:33 AM

Funny you should mention verbal diarrhea, SRS. I fear that Rapaire, having previously been suffering from a form of verbal constipation, has now gone to the opposite extreme and opened the floodgates, so to speak, which may lead on to god knows what kind of excesses!

"There is a tide in the affairs of men, which, taken at the flood, leads on to ...."


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 25 Sep 06 - 10:24 AM

We're up to 14153. I often times use poetry when I'm ready to pounce on a number (for preservation purposes, in advance of one of Mudcat's generalists who pounce, regardless of the flow of conversation or subject matter, just to add another notch to their bedposts or belts). Is there a significant number approaching, that number6 is attempting to preserve, or is this symptom of verbal diarrhea, a borrowing to fulfill a need to post without having caught up with the goings-on here on MOAB? Or is it an attempt to distract Rapaire from trumpeting his own trumpet?


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: number 6
Date: 25 Sep 06 - 09:36 AM

"Ah, woe is me, my mother dear!
A man of strife ye've born me:
For sair contention I maun bear;
They hate, revile, and scorn me.

I ne'er could lend on bill or band,
That five per cent. might blest me;
And borrowing, on the tither hand,
The deil a ane wad trust me.

Yet I, a coin-denied wight,
By Fortune quite discarded;
Ye see how I am, day and night,
By lad and lass blackguarded! "

sIx


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 25 Sep 06 - 09:34 AM

ST. AGNES' Eve?Ah, bitter chill it was!        
The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold;        
The hare limp'd trembling through the frozen grass,        
And silent was the flock in woolly fold:        
Numb were the Beadsman's fingers, while he told              
His rosary, and while his frosted breath,        
Like pious incense from a censer old,        
Seem'd taking flight for heaven, without a death,        
Past the sweet Virgin's picture, while his prayer he saith.        

His prayer he saith, this patient, holy man;              
Then takes his lamp, and riseth from his knees,        
And back returneth, meagre, barefoot, wan,        
Along the chapel, this prayerful Rapaire        
The sculptur'd dead, on each side, seem to freeze,        
Emprison'd in black, purgatorial rails:              
Knights, ladies, praying in dumb orat'ries,        
He passeth by; and his weak spirit fails        
To think how they may ache in icy hoods and mails.        

Northward he turneth through a little door,        
And scarce three steps, ere Music's golden tongue              
Flatter'd to tears this aged man and poor;        
But no?already had his deathbell rung;        
The joys of all his life were said and sung:        
His was harsh penance on St. Agnes' Eve:        
Another way he went, and soon among              
Rough asses sat he for his soul's reprieve,        
And all night kept awake, for sinners' sake to grieve.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 25 Sep 06 - 09:15 AM

IF this means Rapaire has stolen his hat back, as regards the Plagiarism Concession, I am glad for him. If it means he has hired on help to stay in operation longer, I will go tear out my remaining hair quietly.

A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 25 Sep 06 - 09:08 AM

"You are old, mother MOAB," the young man said,
                  "And your hair has become very white;
             And yet you incessantly stand on your head --
                  Do you think, at your age, it is right?"

             "In my youth," mother MOAB replied to her son,
                  "I feared it would injure the brain;
             But now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,
                  Why, I do it again and again."

             "You are old," said the youth, "as I mentioned before,
                And have grown most uncommonly fat;
             Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door --
                Pray, what is the reason of that?"

            "In my youth," said the sage, as she shook her grey locks,
                "I kept all my limbs very supple
            By the use of this ointment -- one shilling the box --
                Allow me to sell you a couple."

            "You are old," said the youth, "and your jaws are too weak
                For anything tougher than suet;
            Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak --
                Pray, how did you manage to do it?"

            "In my youth," said his mother, "I took to the law,
                And argued each case with my spouse;
            And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw,
                Has readied me for nothing but scouse."

            "You are old," said the youth; one would hardly suppose
                That your eye was as steady as ever;
            Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose --
                What made you so awfully clever?"

            "I have answered three questions, and that is enough,"
                Said his mother; "don't give yourself airs!
            Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
                Be off, or I'll kick you down stairs!"


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 25 Sep 06 - 09:00 AM

Rapaire is going to tell us about his trumpet, everybody. Pay attention!!


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: beardedbruce
Date: 25 Sep 06 - 08:59 AM

hex 20 is fastest?


http://www.lookuptables.com/


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Bunnahabhain
Date: 25 Sep 06 - 08:58 AM

I just realised what the sucession of slightly chewed characters are. They're us........


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Bunnahabhain
Date: 25 Sep 06 - 08:52 AM

It could just be a very advanced case of sir jOhns problem, an almost complete keyboard failure. He's trying to say more, but the letters just aren't there.

Either that or Gluon is chasing the spare letters round Sagittariaus gamma ultra ( I'm not looking up ASCII for greek letters), and they'll turn up as a dribble of slightly chewed characters, scatterd back and forth across a number of years. The blank posts are just the spaces getting back first, as they're fastest.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 25 Sep 06 - 08:48 AM

mpe


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: JennyO
Date: 25 Sep 06 - 12:01 AM

It sounds like Rapaire is suffering from a bad case of verbal constipation. Or maybe the 'cat's got his tongue.

C'mon, we're all pulling (pushing) for you - you can do it!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: number 6
Date: 24 Sep 06 - 11:36 PM

"He thought he saw an Albatross
That fluttered around the lamp
He looked again and found it was
A penny Postage stamp
"you'd best be getting home" he said
as the night is very damp"

and with that I will retire for the evening.

And Mom, I promise no more Lewis Carrol. Honestly.

sIx


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 24 Sep 06 - 11:20 PM

Dear Mom:

I am concerned because Rapaire has gone Mongoloid on us. And SL6 has taken over the Unattributed Plagiaristic Posts Concession, starting with Lewis Carroll.

Can we have our air checked for radon or mold spores or somp'n? This is way too weird.

A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 24 Sep 06 - 11:12 PM

ru


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: number 6
Date: 24 Sep 06 - 10:30 PM

"Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe
All mimsy were the borogroves
and the mome raths outgrabe"

sIx


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 24 Sep 06 - 09:57 PM

Uh-huh. Sure, Rapaire. "t". Right-on, dude. You got it. "t" it is, mah man.


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 24 Sep 06 - 09:45 PM

t


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 24 Sep 06 - 07:16 PM

I never thought Rapaire was a lazy bum. I never called him that. It wasn't part of the persona, ya know? Now, all of a sudden he is making these hysterical blank posts. I dunno. Could it be change of life for Book Man?

A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 24 Sep 06 - 07:12 PM


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 24 Sep 06 - 06:43 PM

Ah, Bunn, DENYING the self-awareness of self-aware BS is just a way to spice things up. Where the trouble starts is when you believe the denial.

A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Bunnahabhain
Date: 24 Sep 06 - 06:25 PM

Self aware BS? I get the feeling this is something deeply worrying, even on the distorted scales of round here...


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 24 Sep 06 - 04:31 PM

I see where the National Intell folks have finally come to the conclusion that waging war in Iraq actually caused more terrorism and bred more radicalism than would have happened without it. See, that's the difference between Quality BS and bad BS. Because Quality BS is self-aware, it does not have to be dramatized subconsciously and therefore makes the world better, not worse...


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 24 Sep 06 - 02:05 PM

Half a post, half a post, half a post onward
Down to the edge of the page where the BS thunders,
Onward we galloped, where the page devils roam
Bound to save Mother, and bring her back home.
Then up to the saddle, and sharpen your wit
For we'll need every spark of your world-class bullshit
As downwards we stagger, through the wild breakers comb
To hoist up Auld Maw, and to bring her back home.

A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 24 Sep 06 - 12:27 PM

Charly:

That's just 'cause you are being tangential. Stand straight and you will see it engraved in 10-point Times just over your head...


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Charley Noble
Date: 24 Sep 06 - 10:41 AM

What time is it? Sir/Ma'am, I am deeply embarrassed and greatly humiliated but due to unforeseen circumstances over which I have no control, the inner workings and hidden mechanisms of my chronometer are in such inaccord with the great sidereal movement by which time is commonly reckoned that I cannot with any degree of accuracy state the exact time!

Cheerily,
Charley Noble, who is never on time!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 24 Sep 06 - 01:33 AM

Mom!!! Rapaire's posting in sign language again. Make him stop!!



A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 24 Sep 06 - 12:57 AM

Busy day, MOM, but I'm home and ready to hop in the shower. Kind of an exciting (not good) event this morning--after walking the dogs I found a tick on me--attached. Yuck! Now I'll keep an eye out for anything that might need to be treated because of it. It didn't get much blood, it wasn't there long, but it was attached and did leave a spot. I will be checking the dogs again in the morning, and I won't be walking through that field again any time soon! Not till after a hard freeze, maybe.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 23 Sep 06 - 09:54 PM


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 23 Sep 06 - 12:52 AM

No, ma'am, I ain't leaving town. Mom tole me mebbe I should but I persuaded her it was okay and I would put things right with the girl's father.

A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 23 Sep 06 - 12:43 AM

Does that mean you're going out of town for three days, Amos?


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 22 Sep 06 - 07:04 PM

But, ya knowm, we can forgive ole Rapaire; he's a lunkhead, but he's OUR lunkhead, and when we make him mad he can be fooled into doing the heavy lifting for Mom for three straight days.


A


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