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23 Jan 12 - 10:00 AM (#3294957) Subject: BS: PantlessChongoMacCollFlingsDylan From: catspaw49 Yes, the cross-species bastard son of a sex-addicted folksinger has been going around without any trousers. Encountering Dylan he stood for the honor of his very weird father and after flinging poo on Bobby he went on to fling Dylan himself............. Spaw |
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23 Jan 12 - 10:01 AM (#3294960) Subject: RE: BS: PantlessChongoMacCollFlingsDylan From: GUEST,999 Whew. This is really gonna confuse Raptor. |
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23 Jan 12 - 10:05 AM (#3294963) Subject: RE: BS: PantlessChongoMacCollFlingsDylan From: Rapparee Dylan Thomas got flung? I thought he was dead. |
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23 Jan 12 - 10:46 AM (#3294985) Subject: RE: BS: PantlessChongoMacCollFlingsDylan From: Raptor ? |
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23 Jan 12 - 11:44 AM (#3295010) Subject: RE: BS: PantlessChongoMacCollFlingsDylan From: Ed T And, as Dylan likely would say: ""They asked Chongo for some collateral And,he pulled down his pants"" |
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23 Jan 12 - 02:13 PM (#3295063) Subject: RE: BS: PantlessChongoMacCollFlingsDylan From: Bill D Dylan's far flung commentary doesn't scare ME... |
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23 Jan 12 - 02:29 PM (#3295071) Subject: RE: BS: PantlessChongoMacCollFlingsDylan From: Rapparee Did you hear about Jonah's new book, "A Child's Christmas In Whales"? |
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23 Jan 12 - 02:45 PM (#3295078) Subject: RE: BS: PantlessChongoMacCollFlingsDylan From: Little Hawk I guess I'll explain how I started writing my exercises in tonal breath control. People seem t' wnat t' know f'r some reason. Why they would want t' know I don't know, but that's somethin' I can't see spending too much time on t' try t' figure it out. Anyway, it all began when I was taking a bus trip across the Midwest, I stopped in a little town called Doolin, and tried to buy some cigarettes at the bus station. The man there said he'd seen me on TV. I said, "Oh?" That's when he pulled the gun out from under the counter. I raised my hands, backed up a bit, and said, "I think you are takin' this way too personal." He said, "You're the one who is spreadin' those stories about Columbus not bein' the first one to America. You must be a Communist! People like you deserve to die!" I backed up a little farther, said, "No, no, that wasn't me. I have always admired Columbus and I watch that show with Peter Falk too. You know?" He looked momentarily confused. I made a dive for the conveyor belt that moves the suitcases and large packages outta the station. His gun went off with a bang, hit the vending machine which spat out 35 candy bars and a Coke, and I was flyin' through the air surrounded by luggage. I hit the sidewalk outside runnin' hard. There were fish fallin' outta the sky, which had turned a pale shade of light orange like you might see on some billboard in Florida. I made it up State Street in record time and hopped a freight train that was passin' through. 5 hours later I'm in Altoona. Nice place t' be when the sky is rainin' fish and it's February 30th on Sunday. Mary Jane has still not called, but I wait by the phone, ever hopeful. Acceptance of things as they are is my primary virtue. |
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23 Jan 12 - 04:09 PM (#3295115) Subject: RE: BS: PantlessChongoMacCollFlingsDylan From: Rapparee There ain't no place in the US or Canada named "Doolin." There are pubs, people, and even a bank. But no towns or cities. Ergo, I must assume your bus trip was a wet one, from County Clare. Five hours from Ireland to Altoona is pretty fair time, too. |
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23 Jan 12 - 04:16 PM (#3295117) Subject: RE: BS: PantlessChongoMacCollFlingsDylan From: Bert I think he meant Droolin. |
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23 Jan 12 - 05:16 PM (#3295144) Subject: RE: BS: PantlessChongoMacCollFlingsDylan From: Little Hawk Y' can't expect poetry to make much of an impression on a blank wall, can ya? It just bounces back. Like a tennis ball. I tried recitin' poetry at the Chamber of Commerce once, but they kept askin' for my credentials, so I finally pulled down my pants. They threw me out on the street. I guess I should consider myself lucky, cause if they'd've really liked me, I'd've had to stay for at least an hour more. If you seek to track down the names, times, and places in my poems and place them on maps you will find yerself in much the same position as a man who tries to write his name on a rainbow with a ballpoint pen. It will elude him no matter how hard he tries. In a similar way, the chance to actually reach gutter minds that are set on nothin' but their own hungry need to command and dominate the moment continues to elude me. But I accept that. I am not sure if it accepts me. |
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23 Jan 12 - 06:33 PM (#3295188) Subject: RE: BS: PantlessChongoMacCollFlingsDylan From: Ed T Egg custard tarts,a super flakey crust with a sweet enough- but not overly sweet- custard filling. A warm flaky shell surrounding a rich delectable center of cholesterol laden goodness. So fresh, so creamy, so amazing when they're warm (but still very tasty when they're not). A perfect balance of dough, egg and custard. Fabulous warm from the oven and equally as delectable reheated. I am salivating as I think of it. In fact, they are just so good that some western folks have spent a year or two in China just to learn to converse, in poor Mandarin, with Chinatown store owners about egg tarts, but I digress. |
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24 Jan 12 - 02:33 PM (#3295558) Subject: RE: BS: PantlessChongoMacCollFlingsDylan From: Amos I think Mary Jane showed up a helluva lot sooner than you remember, buddy; it's pretty clear you've been hanging around with her more than is really good for ya. A |
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24 Jan 12 - 03:13 PM (#3295585) Subject: RE: BS: PantlessChongoMacCollFlingsDylan From: Little Hawk That can happen in cases of strong attraction. But you don't know Mary Jane like I do. Remember this: I don't write "drug" songs. Never have. Never will. To do so would just be...vulgar. |
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24 Jan 12 - 04:25 PM (#3295637) Subject: RE: BS: PantlessChongoMacCollFlingsDylan From: Ed T He wore a pot upon his head, upon his head, upon his head. He wore a pot upon his head. As jaded pots roamed in his head |
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25 Jan 12 - 12:08 PM (#3296093) Subject: RE: BS: PantlessChongoMacCollFlingsDylan From: Little Hawk Just writing "Whaaaaat????" on my favorite wall when Louise comes by. She is wearing an all-black striped dress, that is, black on black. "Where'd y' get that?" I ask. "They're sellin' 'em down at the Salvation Army Store," she replies. "Hmmm. I gotta get me one of those." I put down my paintbrush and adjust my hat. There are yellow polka dot buses passing down 16th Avenue, escorted by howling police cars and a marching band. It must be Labour Day again. I wonder if my ship has come in. |