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BS: The Mother of all BS threads

MMario 01 Nov 04 - 10:36 AM
Acme 01 Nov 04 - 10:34 AM
Amos 01 Nov 04 - 10:18 AM
MMario 01 Nov 04 - 09:42 AM
Tweed 01 Nov 04 - 09:33 AM
MMario 01 Nov 04 - 09:26 AM
Rapparee 01 Nov 04 - 09:16 AM
Amos 01 Nov 04 - 02:54 AM
Rustic Rebel 01 Nov 04 - 02:33 AM
Amos 31 Oct 04 - 10:38 PM
Acme 31 Oct 04 - 10:17 PM
Amos 31 Oct 04 - 09:24 PM
Rapparee 31 Oct 04 - 08:43 PM
Amos 31 Oct 04 - 02:03 PM
Acme 31 Oct 04 - 12:41 PM
Amos 31 Oct 04 - 10:32 AM
Rapparee 31 Oct 04 - 10:25 AM
Amos 31 Oct 04 - 08:51 AM
Rapparee 31 Oct 04 - 08:28 AM
Rustic Rebel 31 Oct 04 - 03:31 AM
Acme 31 Oct 04 - 01:01 AM
Rapparee 30 Oct 04 - 03:11 PM
Amos 30 Oct 04 - 12:45 PM
JennyO 30 Oct 04 - 12:41 PM
JennyO 30 Oct 04 - 12:29 PM
Acme 30 Oct 04 - 12:28 PM
Jeri 30 Oct 04 - 12:28 PM
Rapparee 30 Oct 04 - 12:26 PM
JennyO 30 Oct 04 - 12:26 PM
Acme 30 Oct 04 - 12:26 PM
Acme 30 Oct 04 - 12:25 PM
Acme 30 Oct 04 - 12:25 PM
Rapparee 30 Oct 04 - 12:25 PM
Jeri 30 Oct 04 - 12:24 PM
Jeri 30 Oct 04 - 12:24 PM
Jeri 30 Oct 04 - 12:24 PM
Acme 30 Oct 04 - 12:24 PM
Acme 30 Oct 04 - 12:23 PM
Jeri 30 Oct 04 - 12:21 PM
Acme 30 Oct 04 - 12:21 PM
Acme 30 Oct 04 - 12:17 PM
Acme 30 Oct 04 - 12:15 PM
Acme 30 Oct 04 - 12:11 PM
Jeri 30 Oct 04 - 11:59 AM
JennyO 30 Oct 04 - 11:48 AM
Acme 30 Oct 04 - 11:29 AM
Amos 30 Oct 04 - 11:21 AM
Jeri 30 Oct 04 - 10:45 AM
JennyO 30 Oct 04 - 10:40 AM
Rapparee 30 Oct 04 - 10:38 AM
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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: MMario
Date: 01 Nov 04 - 10:36 AM

Amos? 2...3...4...


In other news...

Khandu move over - new royalty! Birthday thread reveals Uncle DaveO is actually King of Austria!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 01 Nov 04 - 10:34 AM

Amos, since ML was opposed to what the popes were saying and doing, and since he salted his writing with very earthy ideas and was quite anal-retentive, perhaps the loo at the entrance to the popery row and an suitably worded sentiment would suffice?


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 01 Nov 04 - 10:18 AM

Actually apples are Pommes. But what's a consonant between friends?

A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: MMario
Date: 01 Nov 04 - 09:42 AM

POMES in MOAB? well - apples are POMES - and well, apples are associated with a certain serpent - which is also known as the 'Father of Lies' - and lies are a form of BS - so POMES is probably appropriate to MOAB.

MAYBE

Your Mileage May Vary


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Tweed
Date: 01 Nov 04 - 09:33 AM

POMES AND CHURCH IN HOLY MOAB?
I am rath wif scorn and apoplectric in dismy at the sorry condition and disrection obv the Thread that will not die! I am sartian now, that a movement is a afloot to disimpair the Mother obv all Bullshit and turn it into a informatibve area. A place to find show tune lykrics while goorgling on the internest.
I am learned thet Khing Khnadgumz lies in a state obv pronounced psychosis due to this latest attack on the Thread that will not Die and gibberz in unknown eldritch tongs all throw the long magnolia nites! May God habv mercy on us all....

Tweed
K.O.T.R.O.T. & J.A.A.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: MMario
Date: 01 Nov 04 - 09:26 AM

excellant reason!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 01 Nov 04 - 09:16 AM

Yeh, it was. And if you don't like it, step outside and I'll stomp your ever-lovin' ass so deep into the asphalt you'll need a ladder to wake up!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 01 Nov 04 - 02:54 AM

Oh!! I missed that it was Martin LUTHER!! I was thinking Martin Luther King. I will definitely reconsider. Discuss: Was Protestantism a Contribution to Western Civilization? Defend your answer.

A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rustic Rebel
Date: 01 Nov 04 - 02:33 AM

Let me get this straight Amos, Your milking a youth from a civilization, that was unheard of until now?


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 31 Oct 04 - 10:38 PM

5250!! What a fdine firm round and fully packed number!

Yes, SRS, but MLK's loo doesn't fit the criteria -- it has indirectly sponsored osme of our civilizations finest rhetoric!!

A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 31 Oct 04 - 10:17 PM

Did you hear that they have located Martin Luther's loo? Where he got some of his best ideas, and probably even wrote a few down while he was in there. They say on the radio that this will be off of the tour route at his home, but perhaps a replica could be placed in your protestant section?


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 31 Oct 04 - 09:24 PM

Excellent suggestion! The Executive Board of the RCHF has met in conference and acted on your proposal by establishing Popery Row, the long corridor of exhibits just off the entrance to your right.

The wax likenesses of each Pope except John XXIII are being formed by our brilliant stable of fine sculptors and makeup artists even as we speak. Anyone chargeable with Blatant Popery, Dopey Popery, Pope-on-a-Ropery, Dopery Popery on the high Seas, Papal Staplery, or similar offenses is eligible to fill the corridor in keeping with its theme.

Should any Protestant candidates be found they will have to take the corridor to the left.

A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 31 Oct 04 - 08:43 PM

As one born and raised Roman Catholic, I'd like to nominate every Pope elected in the 20th Century EXCEPT John XXIII.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 31 Oct 04 - 02:03 PM

Let it be written, let it be done. The Temple of the Golden Curve happens to have a spare exhibit hall which they are not using, and they have kindly offered to lend it us to establish the Retrograde of Civilization Hall of Fame, dedicated to preserving for public recognition the names and likenesses of those who have, through their actions or inactions, contributed to the degradation, retrogression, diminuition or trivialization of Western Civilization.

("Your Holiness, What is your opinion of Western Civilization?

"I think it would be an excellent idea.")

The RCHF is there for duly initialized and set into being in the long, beautiful and unblemished virtual corridors of Cyberspace with the Ruler-Waving Nun, George W. Bush, and the Ayatollah Khomeini as its first three exhibuts.

Welcome.

Please do not fondle or strike the exhibits.

Please keep small children close for comfort, as these exhibits can be unsettling.


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 31 Oct 04 - 12:41 PM

I had a first grade teacher, Miss Instebo, who would go in that collection. It took me a while to figure out how classes were really supposed to work after having her as my first teacher (they were experimenting in the Seattle schools and didn't do any kindergarten the year before, then "tracked" all of us to compare how we did. To start me out with a whacko teacher was not a great way to conduct that experiement!)

SRS


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 31 Oct 04 - 10:32 AM

That woman! She should be anointed for single-handedly setting the cause of Western Civilization back 100 years.

We should start a Retrograde of Civilization Hall of Fame and she can have a wax statue of hersef waving a ruler menacingly, right up there next to GWB and the Ayotollah Khomeine.

A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 31 Oct 04 - 10:25 AM

I wet my suit once, back in the second grade. Couldn't hold it any longer, and Sister Torquemada of the Holy Inquisition wouldn't let me leave the room because she thought I was faking. Boy, did I fool her!

So yeah, I know about wet suits.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 31 Oct 04 - 08:51 AM

Same is true of a wetsuit (peeing in one). I t makes the water more comfortable. :D


A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 31 Oct 04 - 08:28 AM

Peeing in your shoes will keep your feet warm, but not for very long.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rustic Rebel
Date: 31 Oct 04 - 03:31 AM

Oh faded memory of the great MOAB,what has become of you?
We wallow in a world of poems from here to Timbuktu.
To recall all the bullshit from the past,
is neither up to me or you,
but what I ask of you good folks now,
is to get up and pee in your shoe.


I said that too.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 31 Oct 04 - 01:01 AM

At least this major number happened during the day on a weekend when we weren't killing ourselves trying to log on from work or in the middle of the night.

AND SHATNER WAS NOWHERE IN SIGHT!!!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 30 Oct 04 - 03:11 PM

I...I...I think the Earth moved. Or maybe it was gas. I dunno.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 30 Oct 04 - 12:45 PM

Or a Modernized Version with New and Improved Curses (from a song challenge):

Flight Of The Chicken by Amos
(Tune: Nell Flaherty's Drake)

Oh, I'm called Missus Flight, which you ought to spell right, 
And I live North of London, out Finchingfield way, 
And I bought a pet hen we named Violet O' Glenn, 
For me daughter to have when she wanted to play. 

'Twas a Rhode Island Red with the prettiest head, 
I would give up my bed just to keep her around, 
So much we did love her, there was no-one above her, 
That we went and insured her for two million pounds. 

This chicken mavournin all heads soon was turning 
She took over the pub, sir, and half of the town 
Now I call down the curses on Flight, Collar and Burgess 
Or the erratic stranger who ran my bird down. 

The sweet little chick had a beak that was thick 
She was friends with the ducklings from the far side of town 
But thanks to vile Paviour there was no one could save her 
When some villain decided to take me chick down. 

May his laws never pass, may the frost nip his ass, 
In drastic depression may his businesses fail, 
May his drafts always bounce, may his cats never pounce, 
May the Council reject him and clap him in gaol! 

May busloads of trippers, with mama's and nippers, 
Come trample his dahlias , make his pacemaker click, 
May a foreclosure lease cause the rapid decease 
Of the monster who murdered my beautiful chick! 

May his pecker stay limp and his wife be a blimp 
And his son be a wimp with a cross-threaded dick 
May his Sundays be stormy and overdraft warnings 
Stack up on his doorstep in piles deep and thick. 

May the tourist-trade swells with their antiquéd bells 
Harass him to hell with a suit for lost trade 
May his house lose its power, his watch lose an hour,. 
His daughter her flower an' his soul lose its shade! 

May his landlord be snide, and likewise his bride 
And his best hand-grown roses blow up and away; 
May his checks be rejected, his phone disconnected 
And his dam'd PDA start to write en Francais 

May his groin spring a sprain, may his picnics all rain 
May his guilt like a lance burn a hole in his head 
May he spavine his back and be tortured and racked 
By hemorrhoid pain, as he lies in his bed 

May his friends borrow money, his jokes not be funny, 
HIs dog turn a traitor and leave him alone, 
May his appetite jade and his draperies fade, 
May his wife turn to ice and his mistress to stone! 

Now, I'm done with my cursin', for I'm not a hard person 
And I've always believed we should live and let live, 
And things are much brighter since the damned underwriter 
Agreed to the sum the insurance should give. 
So it's me and my Harry to the far Baleares, 
No more we will tarry in the cold and the fog 
And that hen-killing wank, well, I'll send him my thanks 
For getting us out of that Finchingfield bog! 


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: JennyO
Date: 30 Oct 04 - 12:41 PM

Ah well, there it went. Was it good for you?

Anyway, 5010 is a nice round-ish number.....


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: JennyO
Date: 30 Oct 04 - 12:29 PM

Don't worry, you didn't (neither did I)


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 30 Oct 04 - 12:28 PM

Drat. Slow browsers. Here's the rest, for anyone who was actually following along:


    Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
    "Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee- by these angels he
       hath sent thee
    Respite- respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"
                Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

    "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!- prophet still, if bird or
       devil!-
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
    Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted-
    On this home by horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore-
Is there- is there balm in Gilead?- tell me- tell me, I implore!"
                Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

    "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil- prophet still, if bird or
       devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us- by that God we both adore-
    Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
    It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore-
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."
                Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

    "Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked,
       upstarting-
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
    Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
    Leave my loneliness unbroken!- quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my
       door!"
               Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

    And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
    And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
    And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the
       floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
                Shall be lifted- nevermore!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Jeri
Date: 30 Oct 04 - 12:28 PM

Rapaire, it's ok - you didn't. I think I did. Oops...;-)


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 30 Oct 04 - 12:26 PM

I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: JennyO
Date: 30 Oct 04 - 12:26 PM

Like this one, sung LOUD!

Oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?
My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends.
Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends,
So Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?

Oh Lord, won't you buy me a color TV ?
Dialing For Dollars is trying to find me.
I wait for delivery each day until three,
So oh Lord, won't you buy me a color TV ?

Oh Lord, won't you buy me a night on the town ?
I'm counting on you, Lord, please don't let me down.
Prove that you love me and buy the next round,
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a night on the town ?

Everybody!
Oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?
My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends,
Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends,
So oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 30 Oct 04 - 12:26 PM

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning- little relevancy bore;
    For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
    Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door-
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
                With such name as "Nevermore."

    But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
    Nothing further then he uttered- not a feather then he fluttered-
    Till I scarcely more than muttered, "other friends have flown
       before-
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
                Then the bird said, "Nevermore."

    Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
    Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
    Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore-
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
                Of 'Never- nevermore'."

    But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and
       door;
    Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
    Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore-
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
                Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

    This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
    This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
    On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er,
                She shall press, ah, nevermore!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 30 Oct 04 - 12:25 PM

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and
       flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;
    Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed
       he;
    But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door-
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door-
                Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

   Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.
   "Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no
       craven,
   Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore-
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
                Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 30 Oct 04 - 12:25 PM

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering,
       fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
    But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
    And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"-
                Merely this, and nothing more.

    Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
   Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
    "Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice:
    Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore-
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;-
                'Tis the wind and nothing more."


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 30 Oct 04 - 12:25 PM

Found it! After all these years!

            The Curse of Doneraile.

Alas, how dismal is my tale,
I lost my watch in Doneraile.
My Dublin watch, my chain and seal,
Pilfered at once in Doneraile
May fire and brimstone never fail,
To fall in showers on Doneraile.
As lightening flashes across the vale,
So down to hell with Doneraile
The fate of Pompey at Pharsale,
Be that the curse of Doneraile.
May Beef or Mutton, Lamb or Veal,
Be never found in Doneraile.
But Garlic Soup and Scurvy Kale,
Be still the food of Doneraile.
May Heaven a chosen curse entail,
On rigid rotten Doneraile.
May Sun and Moon forever fail,
To beam their lights on Doneraile
May every pestilential gale,
Blast that cursed spot called Doneraile.
May not a Cuckoo, Thrush or Quail,
Be ever heard in Doneraile.
May Patriots, Kings and commonweal,
Despise and harrass Doneraile.
May every Post, Gazette and Mail,
Sad tidings bring to Doneraile.
May loudest thunders ring a Peal,
To blind and deafen Doneraile.
May vengeance fall at head and tail,
From north to south at Doneraile.
May profit light and tardy sale,
Still damp the trade of Doneraile.
May fame resound a dismal tale,
Whenever she lights at Doneraile.
May Egypt's plagues at once prevail,
To thin the knaves of Doneraile.
May frost and snow and sleet and hail,
Benumb each joint in Doneraile.
May wolves and bloodhounds trace and trail,
The cursed crew of Doneraile.
May Oscar with his fiery flail,
To Atoms thresh all Doneraile.
May every mischief fresh and stale,
Abide henceforth in Doneraile.
May all from Belfast to Kinsale,
Scoff, Curse and Damn you, Doneraile.
May neither flour nor oatenmeal,
Be found or known in Doneraile.
May want and woe each joy curtail,
That ever was known in Doneraile.
May no one coffin want a nail,
That wraps a rogue in Doneraile.
May all the thieves that rob and steal,
The gallows meet in Doneraile.
May all the sons of Granuaile,
Blush at the thieves of Doneraile.
May mischief big as Norway whale,
Overwhelm the knaves of Doneraile.
May curses wholesale and retail,
Pour with full force on Doneraile.
May every transport wont to sail,
A convict bring from Doneraile.
May every churn and milking pail,
Fall dry to stones in Doneraile.
May cold and hunger still congeal,
The stagnant blood of Doneraile.
May every hour new woes reveal,
That Hell reserves for Doneraile.
May every chosen ill prevail,
Over all the imps of Doneraile.
May no one wish or prayer avail,
To soothe the woes of Doneraile.
May the Inquisition straight impale,
The Rapparees of Doneraile.
May curse of Sodom now prevail,
And sink to ashes Doneraile.
May Charon's boat triumphant sail,
Completely manned from Doneraile.
Oh! may my couplets never fail,
To find new curse in Doneraile,
And may grim Pluto's inner jail,
Forever groan with Doneraile.

(I don't like that bit about the Rapparees, but then again, I'm originally from Illinois. And there is a retraction but it's not a good at this one.)


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Jeri
Date: 30 Oct 04 - 12:24 PM

Except perhaps "I Am the Very Model of a Modern Major General." Nah, if you cram enough words together, that works too.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Jeri
Date: 30 Oct 04 - 12:24 PM

Of course, everything goes to "Amazing Grace."


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Jeri
Date: 30 Oct 04 - 12:24 PM

You'd have to go with what the general population knows by osmosis.

Interestingly enough, you can sing Jabberwocky to the tune of "Amazing Grace."


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 30 Oct 04 - 12:24 PM

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
    So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
    "'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door-
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;-
                This it is, and nothing more."

    Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
    But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
    And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you"- here I opened wide the door;-
                Darkness there, and nothing more.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 30 Oct 04 - 12:23 PM

Okay, how about one EVERYONE knows:


The Raven
    Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
    While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
   As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door-
                Only this, and nothing more."

    Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
    Eagerly I wished the morrow;- vainly I had sought to borrow
    From my books surcease of sorrow- sorrow for the lost Lenore-
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore-
                Nameless here for evermore.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Jeri
Date: 30 Oct 04 - 12:21 PM

They're a bit hard to join in on, Stilly. I think a nice, short loud one that everyone knows would work better.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 30 Oct 04 - 12:21 PM

Or you could make their eyes glaze over:


A Winter Night
Robert Burns

Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are,
That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm!
How shall your houseless heads, and unfed sides,
Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you
From seasons such as these?
Shakespeare

    When biting Boreas, fell and dour,
    Sharp shivers thro' the leafless bow'r;
    When Phoebus gies a short-liv'd glow'r,
    Far south the lift,
    Dim-dark'ning thro' the flaky show'r,
    Or whirling drift:

    Ae night the storm the steeples rocked,
    Poor Labour sweet in sleep was locked,
    While burns, wi' snawy wreaths up-choked,
    Wild-eddying swirl;
    Or, thro' the mining outlet bocked,
    Down headlong hurl:

    List'ning the doors an' winnocks rattle,
    I thought me on the ourie cattle,
    Or silly sheep, wha bide this brattle
    O' winter war,
    And thro' the drift, deep-lairing, sprattle
    Beneath a scar.

    Ilk happing bird,-wee, helpless thing!
    That, in the merry months o' spring,
    Delighted me to hear thee sing,
    What comes o' thee?
    Whare wilt thou cow'r thy chittering wing,
    An' close thy e'e?

    Ev'n you, on murdering errands toil'd,
    Lone from your savage homes exil'd,
    The blood-stain'd roost, and sheep-cote spoil'd
    My heart forgets,
    While pityless the tempest wild
    Sore on you beats!

    Now Phoebe in her midnight reign,
    Dark-muff'd, view'd the dreary plain;
    Still crowding thoughts, a pensive train,
    Rose in my soul,
    When on my ear this plantive strain,
    Slow, solemn, stole:-

    "Blow, blow, ye winds, with heavier gust!
    And freeze, thou bitter-biting frost!
    Descend, ye chilly, smothering snows!
    Not all your rage, as now united, shows
    More hard unkindness unrelenting,
    Vengeful malice unrepenting.
    Than heaven-illumin'd Man on brother Man bestows!

    "See stern Oppression's iron grip,
    Or mad Ambition's gory hand,
    Sending, like blood-hounds from the slip,
    Woe, Want, and Murder o'er a land!
    Ev'n in the peaceful rural vale,
    Truth, weeping, tells the mournful tale,
    How pamper'd Luxury, Flatt'ry by her side,
    The parasite empoisoning her ear,
    With all the servile wretches in the rear,
    Looks o'er proud Property, extended wide;
    And eyes the simple, rustic hind,
    Whose toil upholds the glitt'ring show-
    A creature of another kind,
    Some coarser substance, unrefin'd-
    Plac'd for her lordly use thus far, thus vile, below!

    "Where, where is Love's fond, tender throe,
    With lordly Honour's lofty brow,
    The pow'rs you proudly own?
    Is there, beneath Love's noble name,
    Can harbour, dark, the selfish aim,
    To bless himself alone?
    Mark maiden-innocence a prey
    To love-pretending snares:
    This boasted Honour turns away,
    Shunning soft Pity's rising sway,
    Regardless of the tears and unavailing pray'rs!
    Perhaps this hour, in Misery's squalid nest,
    She strains your infant to her joyless breast,
    And with a mother's fears shrinks at the rocking blast!

    "Oh ye! who, sunk in beds of down,
    Feel not a want but what yourselves create,
    Think, for a moment, on his wretched fate,
    Whom friends and fortune quite disown!
    Ill-satisfy'd keen nature's clamorous call,
    Stretch'd on his straw, he lays himself to sleep;
    While through the ragged roof and chinky wall,
    Chill, o'er his slumbers, piles the drifty heap!
    Think on the dungeon's grim confine,
    Where Guilt and poor Misfortune pine!
    Guilt, erring man, relenting view,
    But shall thy legal rage pursue
    The wretch, already crushed low
    By cruel Fortune's undeserved blow?
    Affliction's sons are brothers in distress;
    A brother to relieve, how exquisite the bliss!"

    I heard nae mair, for Chanticleer
    Shook off the pouthery snaw,
    And hail'd the morning with a cheer,
    A cottage-rousing craw.
    But deep this truth impress'd my mind-
    Thro' all His works abroad,
    The heart benevolent and kind
    The most resembles God.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 30 Oct 04 - 12:17 PM

Geez, what a workout. . .


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 30 Oct 04 - 12:15 PM

Or go to poetry, a rousing good recitation of Annabel Lee (Edgar Allen Poe):

Annabel Lee
    It was many and many a year ago,
          In a kingdom by the sea,
    That a maiden there lived whom you may know
          By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
    And this maiden she lived with no other thought
          Than to love and be loved by me.

    I was a child and she was a child,
          In this kingdom by the sea;
    But we loved with a love that was more than love-
          I and my Annabel Lee;
    With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
          Coveted her and me.

    And this was the reason that, long ago,
          In this kingdom by the sea,
    A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
          My beautiful Annabel Lee;
    So that her highborn kinsman came
          And bore her away from me,
    To shut her up in a sepulchre
          In this kingdom by the sea.

    The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
          Went envying her and me-
    Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
          In this kingdom by the sea)
    That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
          Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

    But our love it was stronger by far than the love
          Of those who were older than we-
          Of many far wiser than we-
    And neither the angels in heaven above,
          Nor the demons down under the sea,
    Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
          Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

    For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
          Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
    And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
          Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
    And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
    Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
          In the sepulchre there by the sea,
          In her tomb by the sounding sea.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 30 Oct 04 - 12:11 PM

Show tunes are good, they're catchy and the rest of the car can sing along. But think about this one--they bible thumper can consider themselves well and truly trumped in their threats! -- SRS


NELL FLAHERTY'S DRAKE

Oh, my name it is Neil, quite candid I tell,
And I lived in Clonmell, which I'll never deny,
I had a large drake, and the truth for to speak,
My grandmother left me, and she going to die;
He was wholesome and sound; he weighed twenty pound,
And the universe 'round I would rove for his sake.
Bad luck to the robber, be he drunk or sober,
That murdered Nell Flaherty's beautiful drake.
His neck it was green, he was rare to be seen,
He was fit for a Queen of the highest degree,
His body so white, it would give you delight,
He was fat, plump and heavy, and brisk as a bee;
My dear little fellow, his legs, they were yellow,
He would fly like a swallow, and swim like a hake.
Until some wicked savage, to grease his white cabbage,
He murdered Nell Flaherty's beautiful drake.

May his pig never grunt, may his cat never hunt,
May a ghost always haunt him in the dead of the night,
May his hen never lay, may his ass never bray,
May his coat fly away like an old paper kite;
May the lice and the fleas the wretch ever tease,
May the pinching north breeze make him tremble and shake,
May a four-year-old bug build a nest in the Iug,
Of the monster that murdered Nell Flaherty's Drake.
May his cock never crow, may his bellows ne'er blow,
And a-pot or po, may he never have one,
May his cradle not rock, may his box have no lock,
May his wife have no smock to shield her back bone,
May his duck never quack, and his goose turn quite black
And pull down the turf with his long yellow beak.
May scurvy and itch, not depart from the breech,
Of the monster that murdered Nell Flaherty's Drake.

May his pipe never smoke, may his teapot be broke,
And to add to the joke may his kettle not boil,
May he lay in the bed 'till the moment he's dead
May he always be fed on lob-scouse and fish oil,
May he swell with the gout, may his grinders fall out,
May he roar, bawl and shout, with the horrid toothache.
May his temples wear horns, and all his toes corns,
The monster that murdered NeII Flaherty's drake.
May his spade never dig, may his sow never pig,
Every nit on his head be as large as a snall,
May his house have no thatch and his door have no latch,
Nay his turkey not hatch, may the rats eat his meal,
May every old fairy fiom Cork to Dunleary,
Dip him in snug and easy in some pond or lake,
Where the eel and the trout may slime in the snout,
Of the monster that murdered Nell Flaherty's Drake.

May his dog yelp and growl with hunger and cold,
May his wife always scold 'till his brain goes astray,
May the curse of each hag, that e'er carried a bag,
Alight on his nag till his beard it turns grey,
May monkeys still bite him, and man-apes affright him,
And everyone slight him asleep or awake,
May weasels still gnaw him, and jackdaws still claw him,
The monster that murdered Nell Flaherty's Drake.
Then all the good news l have to diffuse,
'Tis for Peter Hughes, and blind Peter McFree,
There's big nosed Bob Manson, and buck-toothed Ned Hanson,
Each man has a grandson of my darling Drake,
My bird he had dozens of nephews and cousins,
And one I must get or my heart it will break,
To keep my mind easy or else l'll run crazy,
So this ends the song of Nell Flaherty's Drake.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Jeri
Date: 30 Oct 04 - 11:59 AM

I wonder how many other folks you could get involved singing show tunes? Or other songs everybody knows, for that matter. Amazing Grace might be one, or "I'd Like to Teach the World to Sing." Come to think of it, the tunes aren't all that different.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: JennyO
Date: 30 Oct 04 - 11:48 AM

Thanks, SRS. However, I can't take credit for posting it. I just linked to the thread that Robin (Foolestroupe) started. Great story though, wasn't it!

(singing again) Climb ev-vry mountainnnnnnnnnn
fooord ev-vry streeeeeeeeeeeem
fol-low ev-vry rainboooooooow
tiiiiiiiill yooooooooooooo fiiiiiiiind yoooooooooooooorrr dreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeem!


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Acme
Date: 30 Oct 04 - 11:29 AM

Jenny, thanks for posting that wonderful story! (Though one wonders how they can hear much of anything--the trains are still fairly noisy). I think learning "Nell Flaherty's Drake" well enough to sing it back at them would be a satisfying response.

SRS


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Amos
Date: 30 Oct 04 - 11:21 AM

There ya go SRS -- SHOW TUNES!!! Give him SHOW TUNES. They're good enough for Jayzuss, they should be good enough for a cell phone conversation.



A


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Jeri
Date: 30 Oct 04 - 10:45 AM

You can always go up to folks and recite 'Jabberwocky' while looking as if you're speaking directly to them.


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: JennyO
Date: 30 Oct 04 - 10:40 AM

Here it is, Amos:

Weird Funny Music Stuff I Found on the Net

(singing) Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-klahoma, where the wind comes sweepin' down the plain........


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Subject: RE: BS: The Mother of all BS threads
From: Rapparee
Date: 30 Oct 04 - 10:38 AM

One of my roommates, back in my first go at grad school, was from Nigeria. One day he and his friends were getting ready to go to a local church and talk about his country (and I must point out that they were all good Lutherans). Dressed in his regional dress, he opened the door when a Jehovah's Witness rang the bell.

He stood there and politely listened to their spiel, and when they asked if they could come in a talk, he replied, in his perfect Oxonian accent, "Certainly. We are just getting the goat ready for the sacrifice and you can help hold it."

They left, and we weren't troubled again.


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