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BS: The Mother of all BS threads

Rapparee 19 Aug 14 - 10:03 PM
gnu 19 Aug 14 - 07:52 PM
Acme 19 Aug 14 - 05:23 PM
Rapparee 19 Aug 14 - 09:47 AM
gnu 19 Aug 14 - 05:18 AM
Amos 19 Aug 14 - 01:56 AM
Rapparee 18 Aug 14 - 09:34 PM
gnu 18 Aug 14 - 07:38 PM
Amos 18 Aug 14 - 06:37 PM
gnu 18 Aug 14 - 01:17 PM
gnu 18 Aug 14 - 05:02 AM
Amos 18 Aug 14 - 01:58 AM
Acme 17 Aug 14 - 11:24 PM
Rapparee 17 Aug 14 - 09:30 PM
Amos 17 Aug 14 - 02:40 AM
Acme 16 Aug 14 - 11:17 PM
gnu 16 Aug 14 - 04:39 AM
Rapparee 15 Aug 14 - 10:54 PM
gnu 15 Aug 14 - 01:02 PM
Rapparee 15 Aug 14 - 09:27 AM
Amos 15 Aug 14 - 03:52 AM
Rapparee 14 Aug 14 - 03:42 PM
gnu 14 Aug 14 - 10:50 AM
Rapparee 14 Aug 14 - 10:23 AM
Acme 14 Aug 14 - 10:04 AM
Amos 14 Aug 14 - 01:04 AM
Amos 13 Aug 14 - 10:26 PM
Rapparee 13 Aug 14 - 09:53 PM
gnu 13 Aug 14 - 02:57 PM
Rapparee 13 Aug 14 - 10:02 AM
Amos 13 Aug 14 - 01:34 AM
Rapparee 12 Aug 14 - 09:59 PM
Rapparee 12 Aug 14 - 05:24 PM
Amos 12 Aug 14 - 11:58 AM
gnu 12 Aug 14 - 07:11 AM
Amos 12 Aug 14 - 12:10 AM
Acme 11 Aug 14 - 10:23 PM
gnu 11 Aug 14 - 09:53 PM
Ebbie 11 Aug 14 - 09:51 PM
Rapparee 11 Aug 14 - 08:04 PM
gnu 11 Aug 14 - 04:56 PM
Rapparee 11 Aug 14 - 12:38 PM
Rapparee 11 Aug 14 - 10:32 AM
Rapparee 10 Aug 14 - 11:40 PM
Ebbie 10 Aug 14 - 10:47 PM
Donuel 10 Aug 14 - 08:43 PM
Rapparee 10 Aug 14 - 07:28 PM
gnu 10 Aug 14 - 02:27 PM
GUEST,Rapparee on his mobile thingie 10 Aug 14 - 01:36 PM
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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 19 Aug 14 - 10:03 PM

You'd see them sometimes when you'd go fishing, usually in the Spring but, sometimes, in mid-Fall. Thousands of them in the river, fighting to find the mouth of the creek at the headwaters of which they were born.

        Their colors ? bright gray and brilliant red and deep green and what even looked like a flash of blue ? would dazzle you on a sunny day as they leapt from the water, trying to get to their spawning grounds.

        Most wouldn't make it. They'd be eaten by the bears which gathered along the creek banks or be taken by eagles or, for many, exhaust themselves trying to make the spawning grounds and die in the attempt.

        Those that did make it would spawn and then try to run the gauntlet again to make it to open water -- some few made it, but most didn't. They left their egg stalks cemented to stones on the bottom of the creeks, and one person said that these deposits of eggs looked like gardens of flowers.

        Eventually the eggs would hatch and the squid larva would fight their way to the river, only to repeat the cycle some years later. It had been going on for thousands of years, this spawning of Architeuthis Mississipiensis gigans, the giant squid of the Mississippi, which everyone simply called "big squid."

        Boaters didn't like them. During spawning season or when a school of squid would appear on the surface there would be so many squid that boats couldn't run their motors without damaging the propellers. Fisherfolk didn't like them because they couldn't be eaten ? it was said that they tasted like ammonia ? although a few were used for bait. Barge operators didn't like them because it was said that REALLY big ones attacked barges at night, which really scared the crews even though no one was ever hurt.

        Gradually the numbers of squid declined. Some people said it was because of pollution, but most said that it was because the squid migrated elsewhere. Dam workers reported giant schools of squid moving downstream, and the New Orleans newspapers said that "immense numbers of squid" had passed the city on the way to the Gulf of Mexico.

        So the next year they were missing from Cedar Creek, just as they were missing from all of the creeks around town. And we missed seeing them. Like nearly everyone in town, we liked watching the squid as they made their journey upstream. Even people like boaters liked to watch the shoals of squid, their bodies turning pretty colors and their tentacles waving in the air.

        And of course that was the year the Walt Disney released the movie "20,000 Leagues Under the Sea," which had a great scene in it about a fight with a giant squid. The same sort of squid that used to be around town in such great numbers was in a movie. A squid was a movie star, and all of them had left. Like all of the kids in town we were really disappointed that they were gone, but we thought that maybe the squid in the movie could have been one of ours.

        Then the movie came out and we found out that the squid was a bad guy that tried to sink the submarine. Nobody liked that. We knew that squid were pretty fish which didn't hurt anything except maybe barges at night, and even that wasn't proven. So after the first couple of days the movie closed because nobody went to see it.

        We hiked out to the Swamp the weekend after the movie closed. We were hoping to get some early dewberries so that Mom could make a dewberry pie for Sunday dinner. Naturally, we talked about the movie as we walked, our dewberry buckets in our hands. We each had two buckets, and in one of them was our lunch. Of course, we'd made jokes about which one was to be our "lunch bucket" before we'd left, and finally Mom had had enough and told us to go get the dewberries and, because we'd forgotten them, had tossed our lunches to us.

        But we talked about the movie and the submarine in it and about things under the sea and about the squid and how it had attacked the submarine and about how there weren't any squid around any more. Tony agreed with those who thought that the squid had left because of pollution and Ted thought that they had left because it was time for them to migrate and Martha thought that they'd left because they were angry about being made a bad guy in the movie and I thought that it might have been because of all of these reasons or maybe just because they wanted to move somewhere else for a while..

        Eventually we reached the Swamp. It was pretty much as we'd left it the weekend before: quicksand pools, dead trees, live trees, bushes, shrubs, logs, illigators, Spanish moss, muck, mud, dry land, flowers, lizards, musk ox, and all. Swamps don't change much if you leave them alone, and we liked that.

        Remembering the old saying that you should never ever pick dewberries on an empty stomach, we ate lunch and then set out for the dewberry patches. There were lots and lots of early dewberries, but you had to be careful because they grew next to quicksand pools and you could slip in pretty easily. Falling in a deep pool of quicksand -- and all of them were really, really deep -- could be a major annoyance.

         All of our left-hand buckets were filled and we'd just started on the right-hand buckets when Martha said, "What's that?" and pointed to the quicksand pool.

        "It's a big blue eye watching us," I replied. "Nothing to be alarmed about. Probably happens all the time, only you don't notice it."

        "Why would it be watching us?" asked Ted.

        "Maybe it's part of Santa Claus's surveillance system," opined Tony.

        "Maybe it's the Eye of the Swamp, watching to make sure we don't do anything bad," opined Ted.

        "Maybe it's a really, really big squid and it's going to try to capture and eat us," opined Martha.
        
        "Don't be silly," I replied. "All of the squid have left. And besides, there aren't any squid in quicksand poo....aaaawk!" And a great big tentacle wrapped itself around me and started slowly dragging me towards the quicksand.
        
        Quick as half a wink, Martha and Tony grabbed my feet and stopped my slide towards the quicksand.

        "What's a 'quicksand poo...aaawk'?" asked Ted.

        "You stupid stupid!" I exclaimed. "Help Tony and Martha hold me!"

         "Stupid! You called me stupid!" exclaimed Ted. "I've got the highest reading level in my class! So there!"

        "If you don't help us, Mike'll be dragged into that mouth," said Tony. And I looked and sure enough, there was a beak-like mouth in the quicksand, opening and closing with really nasty sounding clicks.

        "Maybe I'll tickle you, instead," said Ted. "That'd show Mike for calling me stupid."

        And he sat down on the ground with a thump.

        And another tentacle flashed out of the water and started to drag him to the quicksand!

        As he passed me, I grabbed his legs. Now I was holding onto Ted's legs while Martha and Tony were holding onto my legs, and all the while tentacles were drawing Ted and I toward Our Fate (if Tony or Martha let go).

        Just then, there was a great big jerk towards the quicksand and my legs were pulled from Tony and Martha's grips! Ted and I flew towards the Horror In The Quicksand!

        And just before Ted's head touched the quicksand, I managed to hook my right leg around a nice, big tree trunk! With another jerk, we stopped.

        Did you ever wonder what the rope feels like during a tug-of-war? Ted and I know from first-hand experience.

        For what seemed like hours we were pulled and jerked and tossed toward the quicksand. And for what seemed like centuries I hung onto that tree with my right leg.

        Tony and Martha got up and got some big sticks and started beating on the tentacles which held Ted and me.   They were forced back when other tentacles came out of the water and nearly caught them.

         "Oh no!" cried Tony. "Whatever shall we do?"

        "Oh no!" cried Martha. "Our brothers who just ate lunch with us are going to be lunch!"

        "I could let go of Ted's ankles," I said.

        "Oh no! Don't do that! I don't want to be et!" cried Ted.

        "I'm getting a cramp in the ankle that's holding us to the tree," I said.

        With that bit of news Tony and Martha jumped up and ran into the brush. They were back in just a couple of seconds, dragging a long length of grapevine. With that they proceeded to lash my leg to the tree, which let me relax my ankle just a little bit.

        Still, the thing was pulling and jerking us, trying to pull us free of the tree, and all of us knew that it might succeed. The grapevines would snap, I wouldn't be able to snag the tree again with my ankle, and then -- sluuuuuurrrrpppp! Chomp, chomp, chomp!

         "It seems to be awfully hungry," Ted panted. "I wish it could find something else to eat."

        And with that, Martha reached into one of the buckets, pulled out a handful of dewberries, and flung them right into the mouth in the quicksand! A couple sort of spattered to the side of the mouth, but a big, ugly tongue came out and licked them inside.

        With that, Tony too started throwing dewberries at the mouth. Both he and Martha missed much of the time, but that tongue would lick up the splattered dewberries. In fact, the tongue got to catching the dewberries while they were still in the air!

        All of this would have been as interesting as heck if Ted and I weren't still being pulled mouthward.

        And then, just as Martha and Tony were throwing the last of the dewberries into the mouth, the tentacles let us go!

        Ted and I flew backwards towards the tree I was tied to. I hit the tree first and then he landed on me.

         The eye and the mouth and the tentacles disappeared into the quicksand. A minute later there was a big bubble that came to the surface and broke with an "UUURPPP!" sound. Then smaller bubbles trailed off towards the other side of the quicksand pool and finally disappeared.

        "Well, that settled the left hand dewberries," I observed. "And we're going to have to pick quick if we're going to take home any at all."

        Ted got up and walked over to the buckets. I got up to follow him and fell down. Tony came over and untied the grapevine that had still tied my foot to the tree.

        "Wow! That was exciting!" I said.

        "Falling down often is," replied Tony.

        "No, no. The fight with whatever that was," I replied to his reply. "I think that must have been a big Big Squid. And I thought that they were all gone, too."

        "Well, whatever it was, it's gone now. And I don't think that I want to go over to the other side of the quicksand pool. But, maybe, hmmmm....I bet that there's a tunnel or something that connects this quicksand pool to another one and so on until you get to the river. I bet that's where whatever it was went, too. To the river," said Tony, in his longest statement thus far that day.

        "Here, Mike," said Ted. "I filled your buckets with dewberries because you saved me from being et." And he handed me two buckets full of dewberries!

        We quickly filled all of the buckets with dewberries again, and then we walked home. I had to walk with one foot in the gutter for quite a ways, but eventually my right leg returned to the same length as my left leg. Ted's legs never did return to the same length, and we had to sew strips of cloth around the bottom of his pants legs so that they'd be long enough to cover the tops of his socks (and no matter what he says, we didn't use lace ruffles).

        Mom was happy to see all of the dewberries we picked, and the next day we had dewberry pie. She also made a bunch of dewberry jam and jelly for the Winter. But that night we had carrots and caviar and croutons and crackers for dinner, and when Mom brought the calamari to the table Ted yelled, "PAYBACK!" and ate it all. Mom just looked at him and sighed, and got the cake for dessert.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 19 Aug 14 - 07:52 PM

Ahhh geeze, SRS. I feel bad ya got auto-screwed. Been there, done that, got the grease marks ta prove it. Back in the day, I'd just fix it. Nowadays, the only tool I have that fixes a Ford is a Visa card. >:-(


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 19 Aug 14 - 05:23 PM

And alas, my transmission job cost me about 2 months takehome after all of the expenses are totalled. Unless I win the lottery, I won't make it either.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 19 Aug 14 - 09:47 AM

I'm afraid that I'm going to miss it again -- I have a nephew (finally!) getting married.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 19 Aug 14 - 05:18 AM

Y'all know I can't, A. Not until I get the pardon.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 19 Aug 14 - 01:56 AM

One other world I have some knowledge of is the Getaway. I think Stilly and Gnu should come this year!! I just signed up. Here's the link so no excuses, hear?


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 18 Aug 14 - 09:34 PM

I have other-worldly knowledge. I've been told lots of times that my knowledge was 'not of this world.'


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 18 Aug 14 - 07:38 PM

Yes. With your talent for it and your worldly knowledge, you would do well.

Here's an idea for a working title... Protons and Prozac (or vicey versy... whatever spins yer galaxy).

True Blues if there ever was.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 18 Aug 14 - 06:37 PM

Played at a Song Contest yesterday at the Parkway Bar. I wrote a song for it, called "Troubled August".

It was very well received, in spite of the lyrics lapses... Maybe I should write songs more often.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 18 Aug 14 - 01:17 PM

I just made another senior's note to go on the fridge. Every Wednesday, I get the grocery fliers and I make a list of the sales. Whenever I do these, I use the back of one of my old business cards. It's fun!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 18 Aug 14 - 05:02 AM

Indeed!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 18 Aug 14 - 01:58 AM

Dang, I love the Good Rapparree when he gets on a roll! Bravo!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 17 Aug 14 - 11:24 PM

Gotta come back in the morning to read that story.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 17 Aug 14 - 09:30 PM

We all took music lessons, of course. I learned to play the trumpet, Tony learned the trombone and Martha studied violin. Ted studied saxophone, trumpet and guitar -- more than any of the rest of us.
        Of course we all took piano lessons too.
        It was Ted's musical skills that prevented him from being bitten by the rattlesnake. And what with one thing and another it all led to . . . but let me start at the beginning.
        Snakes hibernate all winter, except for snow snakes, which estivate. But decent snakes hibernate and come out in the Spring. When they come out of their dens they're hungry and they look for food to regain their strength.
        Up to now I haven't said much about the regular snakes in the Boogie Swamp, but they were there. Garter snakes (which we called gardener snakes), black snakes, king snakes, water moccasins, milk snakes, hoop snakes, rat snakes, bamboo vipers, both rock and reticulated pythons, both king and spitting cobras, black mambas, fer-de-lances, coral snakes, anacondas, puff adders, asps and of course rattlesnakes.
        There were sidewinders, pygmy rattlers, massasauga rattlers, timber rattlers -- why, some days when you'd walk around in the Swamp it seemed that every stick you picked up turned out to be a snake!
        One day Tony picked up a copperhead to hit a piece of elm! That was exciting!
        As a rule snakes won't bother you if you leave them alone. And they do a lot of good for people! Really!
        But it was one morning in early Spring and the sun was up and starting to melt a light frost from the night before. It had been foggy and the trees wore a coat of rime so that they look like white jewel trees when the sun touched them.
        We set out, Tony and Martha and Ted and I, on a hike. We'd been inside all Winter (or so it seemed), so we hiked out and fooled around by Cedar Creek and by midafternoon we were on our way home, cutting through the Boogie Swamp.
        We took a break and sat on some rocks. I'd been whittling, and Ted picked up a stick and started to whittle also. As he whittled he whistled.
        He was whistling The Stars and Stripes Forever when and we heard the buzz of a rattlesnake right next to him!
        Ted started to whistle faster and faster, and as he whistled he whittled faster and faster. He whittled his stick into pieces, whittled the pieces into slivers and the slivers into sawdust. He whittled so fast that the sawdust started to smoke -- and none of the stuff he had whittled even touched the ground before it caught fire. We'd never seen anyone whittle that fast before!
        A piece of hot sawdust burned his hand and he said "Ouch!" and stopped whistling.
        When he stopped whistling, a big rattlesnake at least eight feet long crawled from beside him, coiled itself in front of him and looked at him.
        The snake's tongue kept going in and out, in and out, "smelling" Ted. Finally the snake started to rattle. Just a little, sort of tentatively and sort of jerky.
        Ted whistled a few bars of The Stars and Stripes Forever. He later said that he didn't know what else to do because there wasn't anything left to whittle.
        And you know, that old snake rattled right along with the music!
        Ted kept on whistling and made little motions for us to leave while the snake was rattling along with John Phillips Sousa.
        We quietly and carefully left and waited in the cemetery by Daddy's grave, our usual rendezvous. We hoped that he'd get away without getting bitten, but that if he did get bitten he'd get out of the Boogie Swamp before he got really sick or died. Otherwise we'd have to get him out.
        Finally, after what seemed like hours because it was, Ted appeared. He'd whistled just about every song he knew and had finally told the snake (who he'd named Rex) that he had to go. He said that the snake seemed to understand and even showed Ted a new shortcut out of the Swamp.
        After that afternoon Ted would whistle up Rex every time we'd go into the Swamp. They'd sit there whistling and rattling, and it got so that Ted would even sneak off by himself to see Rex.
        We never told anyone about this, not even Mom. How could you explain that your youngest brother played whistle in a duet with a giant rattlesnake?
        We asked Ted if he was going to put Rex in the theatre or in the movies and make a lot of money, but he said no, it was just in fun and besides it was Art. We said fine -- art, huh?
        Fall came and finally Rex went off to wherever he -- or maybe she -- hibernated. Ted missed his serpentine friend but got over it by Christmas.
        The next Spring Ted couldn't find Rex anywhere. He looked and whistled all over the Boogie Swamp, but there was no Rex to be found.
        Ted was really very disappointed, but he didn't let it stop him from doing other things.
        But it was a strange Summer, too. We didn't see ANY rattlers in the Swamp. None at all.
        School started and Autumn fell. Ted hadn't seen his slithery sidekick for a whole year.
        Then one day, when the leaves were red and gold and the sky was bright blue with white clouds and there was a hint of cool, we four were again hiking through the Swamp, returning from gathering hickory nuts along Cedar Creek.
        Ted was trudging along dejectedly, thinking, we knew, about Rex.
        We stopped for a minute and suddenly Ted's head snapped up and he looked off to the left and shouted "Rex!" and tore off through the bushes!
        Then we heard it too -- the faint sound of a rattlesnake shaking his rattles to the tune of The Stars and Stripes Forever.
        We followed the path Ted had cleared for us through the brambles and we found him sitting on a long rock, facing a good-sized depression.
        We sat on the rock next to Ted and saw that the depression was filled with rattlesnakes. There must have been seventy-five or eighty of them: long ones and short ones, fat and skinny, some with lots of rattles and some with just a few.
        And in front of them all was Rex.
        Rex coiled himself up and -- I swear that this is true! -- he bowed to Ted and made little bows to us.
        Then he turned back to the other rattlers and they formed rows and the rattling got quiet.
        Rex pumped his head a couple of times and the rattlers started rattling. It took a moment, but we realized that we were hearing The Washington Post March!
        When it was over we clapped and clapped and clapped. And it dawned on us that the reason that rattlesnakes were so scarce that Summer was because Rex had been teaching them the music he had learned from Ted!
        It was a grand concert! We heard Manhattan Beach and Hands Across the Sea and The Washington and Lee Swing and The Notre Dame Victory March and On Wisconsin and Fight Fiercely, Harvard and The Air Force Song and the Triumphal March from Aida and Home On the Range and Three Jolly Coachmen and They're Moving Father's Grave To Build a Sewer and Clementine and Bell Bottom Trousers and Anchors Aweigh and the largo from Dvorak's The New World Symphony and Eine Kleine Nachtmusik and Bach's famous Toccata and Fugue and at the end, of course, The Stars and Stripes Forever.
        Each of the snakes took a little bow after Rex motioned them up, just like a human conductor who was proud of his or her orchestra.
        We clapped so hard that they played Puff the Magic Dragon as an encore.
        Then they all bowed again and slithered away into a hole beneath another rock because it was getting dark and it was, after all, time to hibernate.
        Ted looked at his friend Rex and Rex looked at Ted and no one said anything. Then Rex left to join his fellows for the winter and we went home to a supper of fondue and flapjacks and fool and frittata and fillets and farl and fruitade to drink, and of course, fruit flambé for dessert.
        I don't know what ever happened to Rex and the All-Rattler Orchestra, but I heard some Mexican music that makes me think that maybe Rex taught maracas in Mexico. Ted may know, though.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 17 Aug 14 - 02:40 AM

Throw them Vidalias, momma
Throw them sprouts and them peas
Just be a vegetable bomber
T'row anything that you please!
Carrots and parsley and kale, mom
Throw as the passions do seize ya
Bounce them all of their heads, Mom
If your kids no longer please ya!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 16 Aug 14 - 11:17 PM

MOM was dangling her toes below below the line, bare hours from toppling off the page. I just gave her a bucket of onions and she's liable to throw them at any of you she sees sneaking across the porch.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 16 Aug 14 - 04:39 AM

Not Vidalia onions. Deeeelicious.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 15 Aug 14 - 10:54 PM

Google sayeth: "Welcome to Vidalia in Historic Boone NC Reservations strongly recommended"

I guess the town is usually pretty full. Here's a bit from the U. of Toronto Libraries:

Onions

Lorna Crozier
From:   Sex Lives of Vegetables.

The onion loves the onion.
It hugs its many layers,
saying, O, O, O,
each vowel smaller
than the last.

Some say it has no heart.
It doesn't need one.
It surrounds itself,
feels whole. Primordial.
First among vegetables.

If Eve had bitten it
instead of the apple,
how different
Paradise.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 15 Aug 14 - 01:02 PM

VIDALIA!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 15 Aug 14 - 09:27 AM

Yeah, it's rough when your balls are lost. It's usually due to beating your balls with a club.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 15 Aug 14 - 03:52 AM

A walnut in the hand is worth more than lost balls in the rough...


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 14 Aug 14 - 03:42 PM

With walnuts, if you want them.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 14 Aug 14 - 10:50 AM

Dark chocolate?


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 14 Aug 14 - 10:23 AM

I was not taken by, nor have I 'gone over to' the Dark Side because I AM the Dark Side. C'mon over -- we have chocolate chip cookies.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 14 Aug 14 - 10:04 AM

Rap, I saw a whole bunch of balls in a rough that the golfers missed over the last few weeks. You need to hop the fence and head up the hill about 1/4 mile, you'll see them on your right. Careful you don't disturb any rattlers.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 14 Aug 14 - 01:04 AM

Rapp, you have clearly been taken whole by the Darkside Daemons, and have no hope of ever seeing clear daylight again.

I mourn your capture. Farewell.

A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 13 Aug 14 - 10:26 PM

ANything to damp the spew of such horrid poesy!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 13 Aug 14 - 09:53 PM

Oh! Mr. Best, you're very bad
And all the world shall know it;
Your base behaviour shall be sung
By me, a tunefull Poet.--
You used to go to Harrowgate
Each summer as it came,
And why I pray should you refuse
To go this year the same?--

The way's as plain, the road's as smooth,
The Posting not increased;
You're scarcely stouter than you were,
Not younger Sir at least.--

If e'er the waters were of use
Why now their use forego?
You may not live another year,
All's mortal here below.--

It is your duty Mr Best
To give your health repair.
Vain else your Richard's pills will be,
And vain your Consort's care.

But yet a nobler Duty calls
You now towards the North.
Arise ennobled--as Escort
Of Martha Lloyd stand forth.

She wants your aid--she honours you
With a distinguished call.
Stand forth to be the friend of her
Who is the friend of all.--

Take her, and wonder at your luck,
In having such a Trust.
Her converse sensible and sweet
Will banish heat and dust.--

So short she'll make the journey seem
You'll bid the Chaise stand still.
T'will be like driving at full speed
From Newb'ry to Speen hill.--

Convey her safe to Morton's wife
And I'll forget the past,
And write some verses in your praise
As finely and as fast.

But if you still refuse to go
I'll never let your rest,
But haunt you with reproachful song
Oh! wicked Mr. Best!--

                --Jane Austen (yes, THAT Jane Austen)


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 13 Aug 14 - 02:57 PM

Oooohhhhh!!!

Subject: RE: BS: Pub searched for the Holy Grail
From: gnu - PM
Date: 13 Aug 14 - 02:52 PM

Jeri... my lighter is blue so it tweren't me. On a sad note, I had too many Buds last night and put a Grail in the dishwasher without looking under the bottom of it to see if it was dishwasher safe and... well... it's pretty much fucked. Looks like shit. Oh, I can still drink out of it but the table set is ruined and I can only use the set if I have only six guests. I suppose I could invite two threesome couples for supper or... I'll work it out. Just another crumb on the breakfast table, I guess. Roll with the punches eh? (Yes, intended.)
*********************************************************
Yes... yes... I am lazy. So what? Keeps Mom busy and slows down the Craic intake.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 13 Aug 14 - 10:02 AM

There are worse...here's a good example of that. Note the exquisite use of phrasing and grammar. Big Mick would, I'm sure, be proud of this poem, if only he knew about it.

Grand Rapids Cricket Club
by the same person as before

In Grand Rapids is a handsome club,
Of men that cricket play,
As fine a set of skillful men
That can their skill display.
They are the champions of the West,
They think they are quite fine,
They've won a hundred honors well;
It is their most cunning design.

Brave Kelso, he's considered great,
Chief of the club he is found;
Great crowds he draws to see him bowl
The ball upon the ground.
And Mr. Follet is very brave,
A lighter player than the rest,
He got struck severe at the fair ground
For which he took a rest.

When Mr. Dennis does well play,
His courage is full great,
And accidents to him occur,
But not much, though, of late.
This ball play is a dangerous game,
Brave knights to play it though;
Those boys would be the nation's pride,
If they to war would go.

From Milwaukee their club did come,
With thoughts of skill at play,
But beat they was, and then went home --
Had nothing more to say.
Grand Rapids club that cricket play,
Will soon be known afar,
Much prouder do the members stand,
Like many a noble star.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 13 Aug 14 - 01:34 AM

Sweet everloving Jaysus, but that Rapparree has horrible taste in pomes.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 12 Aug 14 - 09:59 PM

Well, Mom, no one else seems to care. So here's a poem to cheer your heart!

I Wonder Where My Papa Is?
by "The Sweet Singer of Michigan"

I wonder where my papa is,
Oh, where could he have gone,
I wonder why he does not come
And see his Lilly Long.
He would come and sit by me
When the fever burnt my brow,
I wonder where my papa is,
For he comes not near me now.

I hear no more the foot pace
In the hall by my door,
Where he would gently, gently tread
Upon the oaken floor.
His place is vacant by the hearth,
There stands his easy chair;
I hear no more his loving voice
Raising the evening prayer.

The last time I saw my papa dear
Was just five days ago,
He took me in his arms and said,
"You are getting better slow,
Thank God, my little Lilly pet
Will soon be well again,
And run about the house and play
With little Nettie Lane."

I wonder where my papa is,
Oh, where could he have gone,
It cannot be he has forgotten
His little Lilly Long.
No, he never would have left me
And mamma without aid;
I fear my papa has fallen
A victim of the "plague."

The mother listened to her child,
Her heart filled with pain
To hear her loved one mourn for him
Who would never come again.
Tears were falling from her eyes,
From her bossom heaved a sigh;
Little Lilly asked in wonder,
"Mamma dear, what makes you cry?"

"Dearest Lilly must I tell you
That your papa is no more,
That he cannot come and see you
And caress you as of yore.
He has gone to live with Jesus,
In the heavenly home above,
Where are dwelling the blessed
In God's everlasting love."

Lilly listened to her mother,
She uttered not a sound,
O'er her little pale cheeks softly
Tears began to trinkle down;
At last she sweetly murmured,
"Mamma dear, you and I
Must live so we can meet papa
In Heaven, by and by."

"Yes, my child," the mother answered,
"Your words are very true,
While we live on earth we should keep
The heavenly land in view;
Then bright on earth will be our future,
Bright as a shining star;
We will live in love together,
Till we reach that home afar."


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 12 Aug 14 - 05:24 PM

Nope, I pushed that reset button and pushed it around with a stick so often I thought I was living under the sink and grinding garbage as a job. Sucker's daid, daid, daid. The new one comes Thursday morning.

Nah, not gonna replace the sink at this time.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 12 Aug 14 - 11:58 AM

Gnu, I hav ealready heard the song enough times. But thanks! Thumpathumpathumpa. It sounds better with the fiddle and mando helping it along.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 12 Aug 14 - 07:11 AM

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hvKyBcCDOB4


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 12 Aug 14 - 12:10 AM

One of the GRand Masters of BS has passed to the Higher PLane. RIP, Mr Williams.

Mom, you know I love my music and I love singing good old songs and even some good new songs. But how many times do I have to listen to a guy with a Yamaha and a flatpick play "Wagon Wheel" in galumphey four-four time sounding like a washbasin being rolled down a frozen street? Or any other of a dozen 1980 standards with the musicality of a starving giraffe meeting an acacia tree? It's not the songs themselves, I suppose, it's the styling that sounds like pressed metal forms coming off a conveyor belt.

I think I am getting grumpy in my silvery years, moi. Sigh.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 11 Aug 14 - 10:23 PM

Is that wishful thinking that the disposal will die? Did you try the reset button? Maybe it's just playing a trick on you, or Gluon jostled it when she hid under the sink before jumping out to surprise you recently.

My disposal works but I'd love to change my sink and faucet.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 11 Aug 14 - 09:53 PM

Whoa big fella! Iffin yer lookin at a different kinda sink arrangement, fine. But if yer gonna replace in kind? No. The crap they sell nowadays ain't gonna match up ta the quality ya got. Get out the Comet and a heavy cloth and a scrub brush and pocket yer coin.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Ebbie
Date: 11 Aug 14 - 09:51 PM

I'll keep an eye out for you, Rap. And I will wear a hardhat.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 11 Aug 14 - 08:04 PM

Let's see: I have a new water heater, a new furnace, a new air conditioner, and soon a new garbage disposal.

Which makes me wonder, why not replace the sink at the same time? Hmmmm....


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 11 Aug 14 - 04:56 PM

My ex went thru three of them when she had her apartment. Seems she couldn't operate spoons properly. Ya think that woulda be a warning sign to me eh? She seemed nice... and then... she spooned me.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 11 Aug 14 - 12:38 PM

Correction:

1986 - 2014


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 11 Aug 14 - 10:32 AM

RIP
"Old Facefull"
My Garbage Disposer
    ????-2014
What's the NEXT that
will go wrong
   around here?
<@ <@ <@ <@ <@ <@ <@


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 10 Aug 14 - 11:40 PM

Well, Ebbie, if you see me like that anytime in the near future you'll know that Yellowstone blew and I'll be flying overhead any minute.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Ebbie
Date: 10 Aug 14 - 10:47 PM

Donuel, I can't speak for you but I am aware of a strange thing for me: If I see someone who looks like someone I know - and isn't - I will see the one I know within moments. Don't ask me how that works but it is true.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Donuel
Date: 10 Aug 14 - 08:43 PM

I see Doppelgängers of people in which I have no acquaintance.
What does that portend?


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 10 Aug 14 - 07:28 PM

Well, yeah. Eventually everyone but me will. When the roll is called up yonder I don't plan to be there.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 10 Aug 14 - 02:27 PM

Wiki : In some traditions, a doppelgänger seen by a person's relative or friend portends illness or danger while seeing one's own doppelgänger is said to be an omen of death.

You mean... I am gonna die? Well, that sucks. Glad I went to the Powerhouse.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: GUEST,Rapparee on his mobile thingie
Date: 10 Aug 14 - 01:36 PM

Doppelgängers are interesting. I've experienced them a few times, or perhaps I only thought I did. If you think you experienced something, truly believe you have, it's real for you. The human mind is a strange, strong, and wonderful place.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: gnu
Date: 10 Aug 14 - 01:12 PM

Just happened and I just wrote this flat out so ignore any typos, grammar infractions.. even logical progression... I was trying to get feelings down on paper, so to speak.

So, I'm down ta the Powerhouse, the one in the building complex what got the Fairlanes Bowling in er, an I see this guy squatted and holding a cardboard sign in front of the vacant shop next door. I got outta me truck (he couldn't see me) and checked me billfold. No fivers, so's I go in making sure not to look in his direction, got me case and got a fiver in hand. I comes out an he's gone. Fuck me!

I was immediately taken back to a similar incident some years ago.
I'm up ta my buddy's corner store an as I am backin out, this guy what looks in his 60s was comin toward the truck with one hand extended. I looked directly in his eyes... I could see a desperation, a fear. I saw red blues eyes and several days of white beard growth. He didn't look good and I felt a desperation, fear. I took off. I turned onto the street and felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. I asked out loud, loudly, "Why didn't you help that man? What the fuck is wrong with you?" I made a left into a gas bar just 200 m away and went back. He was gone. I drove around the block? he had vanished? no way he could have gotten further away unless he was driving and I just couldn't see that. I was pissed off at me. And then it hit me. I pictured his face in my mind and it was me. I swear that he looked like me. Is that what had frightened me. I continued to look for him but to no avail. It weighed on my mind? still does.

Well, this time? No fuckin way! I roared that truck up to the main drag. Nope. I floored that truck back around the building complex an I spies a guy on a bike an he's got a piece a cardboard. I zipped up alongside an I says, "Hey buddy. I seen ya back there with a sign. What's it say?" "I'm trying to get help." I handed him the fiver and he thanks me sooo much. Then he tells me he's tryin ta get money ta get back home on accounta he's livin in a roomin house on assistance an he lost his job an? I stopped him, got me wallet out and said "I'll trade ya a ten for that fiver. He takes ta thankin me profusely again and I knew? I asked "Where ya from?" Stephenville, NF? he can get a hitch but he's gotta come up with $165 fer gas an? I stopped him and held out the fiver an said "When you get to Stephenville, you look up Ed LaValley an tell him Gary Owens told you to say hello for him." He started all over again and I said "You just remember to tell Ed Lavalley that Gary Owens said hello." I drove away.

I hope he gets home. I hope he contacts Ed. My hello might be worth a lot more than $15.

Odd thing how odd things happen eh?


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