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09 Dec 02 - 05:21 PM (#844079) Subject: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: JenEllen Once upon a time in the Mudcat Tavern..... "It sure is a dusty old place," she thinks to herself as she pushes the door back on its rusty hinges, "but it should shine in a jiffy." In no time, the place was in order: Mistletoe hung over a jukebox loaded with Mudcat music and rigged to accept dollar coins, Aboriginal Artwork from Alison and a stolen VanGogh from Amsterdam hung above the bar next to a 'Birth of Venus' painting of Spaw on a seashell and the spit-wad collage of Alan Lomax, and the behind-the-bar checklist was unearthed for perusal. The woman blows the dust off of the ancient paper, untucks the pencil from behind her ear and mutters, "Well, there's no gift like the present, I guess.." and proceeds: Kitchen aired out for MMario and elves? Check TP in the stalls and napkins on the tables? Check. Layabout cushions fluffed and big drool bibs handy in case THE FAIR ONE stops by? Check. Booth in the corner usually reserved for 'saving the world from itself' political banter transformed into a cozy nook for Andres and kin? Check. Ad for new help? "Sweet merciful crap," the woman thinks to herself. With Leej doing double-time (can you sing Papa's Got A Brand New Bag?) we'll need a new part-time bartender! "Should be easy enough," she mutters, "let's see......" Wanted: Low-Strung/Low-Slung Part-time Barkeep for Cyber Tavern. Applicant must be of slightly un-sound mind and sounder-than-average constitution. Must be willing to dole out brews like Raskolnikov and Turkey Turd as well as the good stuff. Must be able to memorize Bert's credit card number. Must know at least one tune from "Songs in the Key of Self". Jello-pit cleaning, go-go hamster wrangling, and possum chasing experience a plus. Good hygiene is preferred, but not a prerequisite for employment. Mudcat EOE. CHECK! Now, the tree is set, if a bit naked, all that's needed is for 'Catters to decorate it, and slide cyber-gifts beneath it. First gifts: a damp little ribbon that has "TO THE FAIR ONE" scrawled on it, surrounding a teary recitation of "The Cattle Dog's Death" (can't get through it without crying, sorry, but you made my year by sending it) and an AVOCADO stocking stuffer for the guacamole princess, as well as a hollowed out log for Cleigh to sleep in and dream about girl possums. Happy holday of your choosing, the drinks are on Bert. |
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09 Dec 02 - 05:29 PM (#844085) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: artbrooks Scruffy old guy shuffles in. "Did I hear that there was a barkeep position open? I can mix any drink in the world, as long as its a vodka martini...shaken, not stirred. I can pour beer, with or without a head...except I draw the line at Coors light or that awful black stuff that comes over in a tanker ship from Ireland." Getting no reply, he wanders over to a table in back and begins to quietly play air bodhran. |
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09 Dec 02 - 05:46 PM (#844096) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Liz the Squeak So is anyone going to untie me from this blasted stall or do I have to gnaw my way out again? LTS |
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09 Dec 02 - 05:58 PM (#844105) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: artbrooks Old guy hears a commotion from the back of the bar. Wanders over to see what all the fuss is about, and discovers its coming from the Ladies Room. Look down to check, and just as he remembered, he's a gent. "Can't go in there," he says. "Hope some gal shows up to see what's happening." Goes back to his table and begins to beat out a silent reel. |
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09 Dec 02 - 06:04 PM (#844112) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Liz the Squeak Damn... I'm sure that was some old granny coming to empty her colostomy bag... bet she thinks I'm in the ladies and won't go in..... some of these old folks don't like to be in there with others.... LTS |
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09 Dec 02 - 06:05 PM (#844113) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: catspaw49 Geeziz, the place somehow never changes.......No matter what incarnation, there's always a certain sameness.............The Jello Pit looks good JE!!! I like the Red and Green combination....Very Christmassy........Yeah you pedantic types.....I know it ain't a word, but fuckoff huh?...........Cleigh will be along shortly, he's getting all duded up in his finery from WW....bubble wrap cape and all. By the way, he's had a bad case of the Green Apple Quickstep so when he shows up, kinda' watch it.....The stuff is real slippery! Cletus, Paw, Buford, and the Reg boys are out on the road somewhere now and I kinda' hope they don't show up....I mean they can wreck a good time pretty quick or get us all arrested. But I kinda' miss them too, especially this time of year becasue it was right around this time when I first met them selling Christmas Trees......If you haven't heard the story, let me kick back with a big glass of Maker's Mark and tell you........Thanks JE..Fine bourbon!!!!... Yeah, well ya' see it was like this..................................... I had noticed an area on Rt. 664 just outside of our little village being carefully prepared and roped off as I drove by and every now and then there were these three guys working there, building a little shed and driving stakes into the ground about 6 feet apart. It finally dawned on me that they were getting ready to sell Christmas trees. Now I have always gotten ours from the same place for years, but the prices were getting pretty steep so I kept an eye out for new sources. The day they put up the lights, I stopped to see when they'd be bringing the trees in. As I got out of the van I couldn't help but notice that these three, from all appearances, were a bit "down on their luck" and it made me want to help them out a bit. Cletus came up to me and introduced himself and I asked about the trees. He was glad to tell me all about them in that way which I've since learned to interpret. At that time however all I could seem to understand was that they were "working on them." These many years later, that kind of phrase would set off alarms, but I didn't know Cletus then so I thought it was just an odd hilljack way of phrasing things. Paw came over and I liked the old guy a lot right away. He said he'd seen me before and I remembered something about the sewage plant and the day it exploded. I couldn't place what it was that this guy had to do with it but the correlation seemed quite vivid. I shook his hand and he farted in return. I had never met anyone who was quite so casual with flatulence. Paw used it almost as punctuation......."How ya' doin'?" (rriippp) "Purty day ain't she?" (bbraawwmmpp)..........Let's say it took some getting used to and made it easy to understand why this old coot could probably not find gainful employment. But for all that, he was a friendly cuss who told me they called him Paw because he was from Paw-Paw, West Virginia. He pointed out the other fellow named Buford who was involved in extricating himself from a string of Christmas lights that seemed to have attacked him. Even from a distance, the unmistakable smell of Iron City brew was pretty strong. I figured he spilled about the same amount on himself as he drank and I later found this to be not only true, but the amounts involved were prodigious. All in all, I couldn't help but like them even if they were, well, let's just call them odd and drop it right there. They told me the trees would be in and they'd be open for business on Friday at 6 PM. I left shaking my head at the idea of bringing Karen and the kids to "pick out the tree" as was so traditional with our family. What the hell? We could at least check them out. On Friday afternoon Karen and I were going into Lancaster and as we passed by I pointed out the place, not that it was really necessary to point. I'd never seen anything quite so garish in my life but it was one of those gray Ohio days, very cold and occasionally spitting snow so perhaps it was the contrast......perhaps not. Karen was making comments about the place, but as we drove past we could both see the trees that were now in place quite well. Surprisingly enough, they looked magnificent! All were very full and perfectly shaped and a greener bunch of Christmas trees I'd never seen. Even at 65 mph, Karen saw one on the far end of the first row that she said was absolutely "the one!" Since she and our kids were going to spend the night with Connie and go shopping on Saturday, I promised her I'd stop back and get the tree and forget the tradition for one year. So on my return trip I looked at my watch and saw that I'd arrive about the time Cletus told me they would open and sure enough, I was the first one there. Cletus, Paw, and Buford, greeted me as a long lost friend. They were really in the Christmas Spirit and offered me some of their "spirits." Friends, there is 'Shine and then there is 'Shine and whatever it was they had in the Mason jars was not. I found out later that this was a homebrew of their own and made not from corn, but soybeans instead, and distilled through an old radiator off a Mack. Luckily I only tasted it, but that single gulp went down like a 4-stage rocket, taking my breath away, and immediately starting to bore a hole in my stomach. After the coughing subsided I gave them the common courtesy line you use upon tasting any 'Shine..........."Smooth!" They were all adorned themselves with some of the seediest Santa hats I had ever seen and were ready for business. They said I was the first customer and I nodded appreciatively while glancing about at the trees. Even up at a closer viewing they seemed almost perfectly formed and beautifully green and I thought the light snow must be the reason they glistened so under the glaring bulbs. It was dark now and the temperature had dropped to about 25 with a nasty northwesterly blowing in a chill from Alberta. My eyes were no longer crossed from the 'Shine and I slowly became aware that something was odd about the trees. They weren't moving at all. Not a branch, not a needle, absolutely nothing was moving although the breeze was pretty stiff. Paw commented on the weather and let fly an air biscuit as I walked over to the tree Karen had seen earlier. I reached out to touch it and it was positively stiff! I felt several branches and the whole thing down to the smallest needle was like glass. I put a little extra pressure on a needle and it shattered in my gloved hand. What the hell was this anyway? Cletus came up and asked how I liked them as Paw and Buford tossed wood in a barrel to start a warming fire. I said I thought these were real trees, but they seemed to be artificial. Cletus protested they were real.......and recycled. Once in awhile you hear sommething that is so completely ridiculous that it takes some time before you can absorb the fact that the speaker is completely serious. Recycled Christmas trees. My mind was slowly opening to the sound of Cletus' voice proudly telling the tale of how they collected them last year and then formed them up, glued in branches with rubber cement, gave them several coats of shellac, painted them with spray cans of "Yew Be Green" epoxy, and topped the job off with several coats of lacquer. I stared at the tree. I stared at Cletus. I stared at the tree. I stared at Cletus. I stared at the tree. I stared at Cletus. Cletus noticed I was a bit pale and pulled me by the arm over to the shed where Paw and Buford had finished filling the barrel and were dumping gasoline onto the contents. Cletus said that I should have another drink and then Paw asked if I was cold. I nodded vacantly, my mind still unable to absorb the insanity which surrounded me. Then I heard Cletus say, "Hey Paw, show him how we light a fire." With that, Paw bent over pointing his butt at the barrel, Buford held a Zippo to his ass, and Paw ripped a monster of a fart, something akin to a Cherry Bomb in it's magnitude. An enormous flame shot out of his ass and ignited the barrel which flared high in the air. But it was a truly huge blaster and the flames not only ignited the barrel, but the nearest recycled Christmas trees. Coated as they were with such a combustible mixture, they didn't catch fire, they friggin' exploded! Bits of flaming plastic-like shards went flying away on the wind to explode the next tree, and the next, and the next. Within 30 seconds the remnants of every tree was flaming brightly and in less than a minute the flames were gone and 50 smoldering sticks were all that remained. None of us had moved and Paw was still bent over and looking over his shoulder at the charred remains of their business. The next day when I picked Karen up, we stopped at our usual place and picked out a lovely Frazier Fir. I had told her the story and that I figured that here was a case where a single fart may not have saved the world, but at least did save 50 home fires. We stopped at their place and the boys were cleaning up the mess and told us it probably meant a Christmas that would be a little bleak for them. Karen is a kind soul and right then and there invited them to our place for Christmas Day. She said they should come early and maybe Santa will have left something for them and that they would be welcome for Christmas dinner too. As we drove home I tried to explain that this probably wasn't a great idea but Karen felt pretty bad for them and they had cheerfully accepted her invitation. On Christmas morning they arrived at 6 AM and the day went downhill from there. But that's another story. So friends, no matter how bad it is and how you feel, there is always a friend out there for you. Even if you're obnoxious, nasty, and haven't bathed in a month, there is always the chance that if you can light a good fart, miracles will occur. Yeah, that was day I tell ya'.............and after while maybe I will......... Gimmee another Maker's Mark JE..............make it a triple....... Spaw |
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09 Dec 02 - 06:08 PM (#844117) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: mytoycar I have breasts give me the job |
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09 Dec 02 - 06:22 PM (#844131) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Liz the Squeak He's got the squitters? Hell's teeth in a bucket, get me out of this damn stall PLEASE!!!! I can't be doing with that again, I've only just grown the hair back on that side of my chest. LTS |
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09 Dec 02 - 06:35 PM (#844138) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: artbrooks Scruffy old gent cringes at the screeches coming from the Ladies can. He reaches into his old gig bag and feels around under the bodhran: "no, that's not it," as he passes by a set of spoons and a shaky egg. "There it is," he says as he pulls out his cell phone. "Hello, Auto Club? Can you get a truck with a winch out here? Where? I'm not entirely sure this place has an address...well, never mind..." |
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09 Dec 02 - 06:38 PM (#844141) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Amos A cloud of dust raised up in the chill morning air outside the Tavern A beautiful low-slung Indian, packing a spring frame and heavily skirted fenders, and a rich 750 cubic centimeter in-line 4 cylinder engine making music like a diesel yacht at midnight on the Med, came sliding through 180 degrees to a perfectly balanced stop. Strapped to the back was a Dreadnought hardshell case only slight younger than the bike itself, layered like an archaeological site with travel stickers, old bumper signs, badges and hand-scrawled slogans. "ALL MY LOVE, FOREVER, JANIS..." was half covered with "Dive the Caves of Xel-ha", "San Francisco Cow Palace", "Newport 1962 -- We Were There! Love, Joanie", "Baby, Come Home!, love Cass", "Welcome to the Ruins of Big Sur!", autographs from Neal Cassidy, old LSD cartoons, "Purple Vibes Coffeehouse -- North Beach", "Heartbreak Hotel -- I've Seen the Original!", and "To a Real Road-Buddy! From Yore Pal, Willie!" competed for display space on the cover and sides. The newest of them, carefully placed next to the handle, was a glowing pink neon creation on a sky-blue background reading "Runamuck with The Best!!". A lanky stranger stretched his long legs over the Indian's ornate fringed saddle and stood slowly, working out the kinks. From the back rim of his seat, a Cappucin monkey untangled itself from the calfskin fringes which he had been gripping for dear life, and nervously scrambled up onto the right shoulder of his dusty raw-leather riding coat, as the Stranger unstrapped the Dreadnought from the rear fender and picked up a large paper sack with strange bulges in it from one of the saddlebags. He stood for a while in the doorway, smiling enigmatically as he spotted an old Silvertone banjo leaning up against the stone fireplace, and he pulled up a chair at a small table over by the tree. He took off the weatherbeaten bushman's hat, laid it on the table, and opened the top of the bag. The monkey started to paw and chitter with great interest, and the stranger smiled affectionately and handed him the first of the lumpy objects inside. It was a tree ornament, shaped like a duck, with yellow bristly hair on its head and a gracefully curved body made of what looked like green soapstone. He handed it to the little feller who scrambled up the tree and strung it out on the tip of one of the branches. It was followed by an array of really unusual objects, all equipped with loops for hanging, and one after another, the monkey grabbed them and ran them to various bare areas on the tree -- a potato peeler, a miniature accordion, a miniature set of what looked like rainbow-hued CDs, a plaster gargoyle with his tongue sticking out in the middle of a friendly smile, an autoharp with tiny little miniature strings that hummed when you spanked it -- there were a dozen or more of them. When the bag was empty, the stranger looked happily at the tree. THere was plenty of room for more!! He shambled over to the bar, the dust wisping into the air from his tall leather riding boots, ordered a tall mug of Guinness, and sat down ruminating reflectively on the icons that dangled from the branches. The monkey curled up in front of the fireplace and was soon asleep in the welcoming warmth... |
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09 Dec 02 - 07:06 PM (#844159) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario A stamping of feet comes from behind the door marked "Do not open in the presence of 'possums" - then it opens, admitting a blast of wintry air and the snow covered figure of a man in caped greatcoat with a strange woolen tophat. clutched in one hand is a large bell. Happy Christmas He croaks hoarsly. Wind's bitter off the lake - so I thought I'd drop in for a pint to sooth the throat. He helps himself at the bar, humming the 'Huron Carol' as he mans the taps. better figure out a menu soon he thought to himself - only 15 days or so to prepare. |
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09 Dec 02 - 07:13 PM (#844165) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Morticia well, in the absence of any one else,I suppose I'd better let Liz out of the stalls.....man, I can't believe we forgot her AGAIN.....she is going to be so pissed! Stand well back, gentleman.....this could get ugly. |
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09 Dec 02 - 07:17 PM (#844170) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Rustic Rebel Hey bartender, won't you set me up with a shot of tequila and a lime please Put this on Bert's tab for me will ya honey? Can I have some change for the jukebox. Thanks. I slide over to the jukebox and put in a couple dollars, Rick Fielding opens the show I sit back up at the bar with my drink, the music is playing low. The place is pretty quite, I think, for this time of the day I look over across the room and Art Brooks is putting on an air-drum play. This guy they call Spaw was just telling a story of flames and farts and firey glory. Jen Ellen just came from the womens room with wads of duct tape in her hands Liz the Squeak follows soon behind, rubbing her cheeks from the duct tape bands. Now the party is starting , can you turn the music up? Come on over bartender and fill up my cup. I'd like to raise a glass and have a little cheer for all of you muddcatters that are here I drink to your health in the bars, I drink to your health in my home, I drink to your health so damn many times, I've almost ruined my own! I think I feel a little buzz coming on... |
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09 Dec 02 - 07:34 PM (#844178) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: ballpienhammer ...when what to my wondering eyes should appear... |
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09 Dec 02 - 07:37 PM (#844181) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario Anyone know how long it takes to Barb-b-cue an Aurochs? And do you serve Velociraptor with a white or red wine? |
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09 Dec 02 - 07:37 PM (#844183) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Gareth In a corner of the Tavern stands a Nativity tableau - complete with Sheep, why is this crowd of short dark hairy guys with funny acents singin "Ar hyd a Nos" clustered round it, and drinking bitter beer - Oh Yes, theres SHEEP in the Manger !!! |
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09 Dec 02 - 09:31 PM (#844239) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: SINSULL A woman walks in smiling to herself and lugging Christmas tins. Each is tied in colored ribbons and labelled "Lemon Bars", "Swedish Heirlooms", Tollhouse", "Rice Krispies Bars", etc. One tin is stamped "Adults Only" and has a tag marked "Bourbon Balls". She carefully places them under the tree, adds an ancient gold glass ball to the lowest branch and puts a baby blanket under it "just in case". Then she slips quietly behind the bar and helps herself to a large glass of JD on the rocks with a twist. "Damn! I hate monkeys!", she mumbles and finds a booth in the back. |
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09 Dec 02 - 09:41 PM (#844245) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Amos Aurochs are usualy about thirty days on a side, depending on how you build the pit, MM! :>) Hope this helps! A |
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09 Dec 02 - 09:45 PM (#844248) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: SINSULL So we don't eat until the Epiphany? Glad I brought the cookies. |
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09 Dec 02 - 09:56 PM (#844256) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: JenEllen Wait one Gawdamn Minute!!! ART! My stars and garters! You have an AUTO CLUB??? (the woman stumbles a bit against the bar) Does this mean you are a RESPONSIBLE ADULT??? Fer cryin' out loud, man....Here's the keys! The woman grabs Morticia and heads for the store room. They pull down a box that hasn't been unused long enough to get cobwebs on it again. (keep your allusions to yourselves, folks) "Shit...You mean she's locked in the ladies again?" "S'what I hear.." The two women load up, carrying grappling hooks, duct tape, and a couple of bandoleros filled with Pez dispensers. They then grab their lucky water pistols full of whiskey, don their Indiana Jones hats, and head for the ladies loo to spring Liz. The woman stops at the bar long enough to top off her water pistol and hand the keys to Art, saying "If I don't make it back this time, make sure someone feeds my dog, eh?" It is all in vain, for Art has about him the glazed look of the Keeper of the Booze. The two women shrug their shoulders and head for the restroom.... |
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09 Dec 02 - 10:20 PM (#844263) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Alice Alice enters the tavern, years having passed since her last visit. The long stem of a red rose clenched between her teeth, she slides a black net gloved hand along the edge of the bar, barely lifts the skirt of her long burgundy velvet gown to show a black Spanish leather shoe... the rose delicately removed from her lips..."anyone for Tango?" she asks. "How about a cookie," offers Sinsull. "Tempting..." Alice replies, "but I was hoping mary garvey would be here with Stevia cheesecake. She promised me the recipe when we were in the Mudchat room. I went out to the food co-op today and bought several types of Stevia just for the recipe..." |
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09 Dec 02 - 10:34 PM (#844270) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Amos The stranger picks up the Silvertone and blows the dust off the strings and tuners. Listening carefully, he detects certain true notes mixed among the shrill giggles and screams of outrage emanating from the Ladies', and uses these milliseconds of precision amidst the chaos to tune the old instrument perfectly, and begins strumming a quiet, cheerful tune.... |
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09 Dec 02 - 11:13 PM (#844289) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Bee-dubya-ell And the evening progressed..... More 'Catters arrived, bringing ornaments for the tree: an ocarina, a pair of 0.18 gauge Dunlop fingerpicks, a tuning fork, a pair of hammer dulcimer hammers.... Each ornament was placed with care, a libation was drawn and the new arrivals joined the folks already gathered around the woodstove. A few other pickers pulled out guitars to join the guy with the old Silvertone and they all began singing Christmas carols. They were midway through "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" when a short male figure walked in through the front door. At first, he appeared to be yet another merrymaker come in from the cold, until he walked up to the bar, pulled his wallet from his trouser pocket and flashed a badge at the bartender. "Constable Pusslegut, from the license enforcement bureau," he announced, "and you lot are in a world of shit! I count at least four people in here playing musical instruments, five or six more singing, and the rest are vigorously tapping their feet and swaying in a manner that could be construed as dancing. And this establishment has no license for public performances! What do you have to say for yourselves?" The bartender drew himself up to his not inconsiderable full height, looked the little man squarely in the eye and replied, "I say 'Bugger off, dickweed'." "What?", the constable shouted in amazement that someone would talk to him in that fashion, "You can't talk to me in that fashion! I'm a representative of the Queen's law." "Not around here, you're not!", the bartender replied with a knowing smirk. "Your authority is only recognized on one island that only exists in the real world. Not only are you not on that island, you're not even in the real world! You're in the Mudcat Tavern, moron!" "You mean...." "Yes, ya idjit! If ya don't believe me just step back through the front door and then turn around." And Constable Pusslegut did precisely that. He walked back out the front door and, when he reached the parking lot and turned around the Tavern had disappeared. "Well I'll be damned!", he said as he started to walk away. It was at precisely that moment that the worthy constable stepped in a very large slimey llama turd, slipped, and fell squarely on his bottom with a resounding thud. The llama turd had lain in wait for just such and opportunity ever since the night a couple of months earlier when some brainless banjo player had mistakenly allowed a circus to set up in the lot behind the Tavern. (Everybody knows the circus belongs in the chatroom, not the Tavern.) Meanwhile, back in the Tavern, the Mudcatters resumed singing "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" just as they had been doing before the rude and untimely interuption. |
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10 Dec 02 - 12:08 AM (#844311) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: artbrooks In thru the open door stepped a large gent with bright red hair. "Bless me!" he cried, putting a ragged dollar bill on the bar. After quaffing his extra large Irish Coffee, made with thick cream and genuine Kona coffee, in one long, satisfying glug, he stepped forward and said "Here's to Mudcat!" and threw his mug into the fireplace. Satisfied, he turned and walked out into the night. "Who was that?", an onlooker said. "If you have to ask, you don't need to know" someone replied. A hush settled down over the pub. |
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10 Dec 02 - 12:14 AM (#844313) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Matt_R The chump with the USMC field jacket, porkpie hat and black electric with spiderweb strap plugs in the amp and sing for anyone who cares. Are you hanging up a stocking on your wall? It's the time that every Santa has a ball Does he ride a red nosed reindeer? Does he turn up on his sleigh? Do the fairies keep him sober for a day? So here it is, Merry Christmas, Everybody's having fun, Look to the future now It's only just begun Are you waiting for the family to arrive? Are you sure you've got the room to spare inside? Does your Granny always tell you That the old songs are the best, Then she's up and rock 'n' rollin' with the rest... So here it is, Merry Christmas, Everybody's having fun, Look to the future now It's only just begun Are you hanging up a stocking on your wall? Are you hoping that the snow will to start to fall? Do you ride on down the hillside In a buggy you have made? When you land upon your arse then you've been slayed. So here it is, Merry Christmas, Everybody's having fun, Look to the future now It's only just begun |
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10 Dec 02 - 03:56 AM (#844359) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Amos [MEEBS RIDES AGAIN!!!!!! Wooooow!!!] |
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10 Dec 02 - 03:57 AM (#844361) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Roger the Skiffler ...Sounds of "Silent Night" played (very badly) on the kazoo, waft in from the sidewalk. The door bursts open and the Skiffler is thrown in by some angry charity Santas. "Stop scaring away our custom". Picks himself up, dusts himself down, with as much dignity as a man with sawdust all over his face can, and lurches to the bar. "A small glass of Aristotle's Revenge, as it's Xmas, please barkeep, and perhaps a mince pie". Climbs on the stool at the third attempt and watches the antics of the other patrons with an indulgent eye before going to sleep with his head on the bar. Wakes up with a jerk (no, not you, 'Spaw) and fixes barkeep with a bleary eye. "I've had a bad day". He announces. "I was goin' to write a great novel. I ordered a word processor. They sent me a food processor instead. I lost three fingers trying to write the first sentence....and the crime in my part of town is dreadful. I got fed up of having my car stolen or vandalised so I bought a horse. Went out next morning and found the damn thing up on bricks." Nods off again despite shower of beermats being thrown at his head. RtS |
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10 Dec 02 - 04:37 AM (#844368) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Chip2447 The rather large, long haired, brindle bearded Mudcatter dressed in the ancient Pea coat hobbles in. Muttering to himself something about the damn cold weather and old tired bones. "I'fn there is any of it left mull me up a tankard of that BARBARIAN MAGIC cyser that I left the last time I was by." He took his tankard, fed about 20 Sackies into the Jukebox and headed for a booth in the back. Stopping long enough at the Tree he pulled a small object from his coat. "Damn, someone beat me to it, I thought I was the official ocarina geek. Ah well, another little one wont hurt." He hangs another ocarina on the tree. As he passes by the folks in the Tavern he raises his glass to each and every one, offers a hand to all assembled, an intoduction to all that dont know him, and best wishes for the Solstice to all. Shucking his coat, he slides into the booth, turning sideways he puts his back to the wall and props up the bad leg on the bench... When his turn comes around he'll play a tune on one of his ocs, something that tells how he feels about this place..."Simple gifts". Chip2447 |
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10 Dec 02 - 05:06 AM (#844378) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse In staggers a swarthy (love that word, must look it up in my OE sometime) old seadog. He heads directly for the bar, not passing GO. "I've just come to apologise for last time" he says. After filling his tankard with Smooth Flow Sloe Gin, delivered from a converted soda syphon, he turns to the assembled mob and enquires if anyone has seen his missus. "Clad in purple she was, feet always tapping, never still for a minute - I just popped out for a sec, and she was gone again." Turning back to the bar, he exclaims "What! No peanuts!" "Does anybody know how to make a blue clicky to find some?" |
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10 Dec 02 - 06:42 AM (#844408) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dave Bryant An old guy with beard and glasses stumbles in through the door, he has a back-packer guitar over one shoulder and a bag with a cat's tail sticking out of it over the other. "Gimmee a big shot of shine with a Marmite top" he rasps. The bartender looks through the jumbled selection of fly-blown bottles of Tabasco, Bovril, shrub, ketchup and other strange concoctions piled at the back of the bar - "Cain't find no Marmite" he says. The old man coughs and spits - missing the spittoon and scoring a direct hit on the desperate looking woman crawling out of the ladies bog, "Shite, you'm as bad as the folks at Harlow - try looking over there with the jam". The bartender finds it and spoons a big dollop of dark brown goo into the shine which starts to smoke ominously. The old man takes his drink to a corner table and tries to surrepticiously toss the bag into the ladies bog, only to knock the spittoon all over the woman who has managed to get to her feet and is trying to pull up her draws. |
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10 Dec 02 - 08:12 AM (#844432) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse "I miss that ol' spitton, too. And the peanuts!" Looks around surruptitiously, still can't see wife. "I'm on the lookout for female rodents" There is a squeek from behind the bar. "Aha! And how would you like to make an old Packet Rat very happy, m'dear?" |
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10 Dec 02 - 08:53 AM (#844461) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario Would anyone mind if I converted the sauna into a smokehouse? I don't have time to barbecue the aurochs - but if I make sausage of it there's still time to smoke it... oh - and I'm sorry; I've co-opted the hot tub to do the boiled puddings - (amazing how hot you can get those things if you reset the thermostats!) |
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10 Dec 02 - 09:22 AM (#844481) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Amos Well, MM, people are gonna ask what you've been smoking...but what's alittle embarassment between frineds, eh? |
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10 Dec 02 - 09:24 AM (#844482) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario frineds don't let frineds smoke sober! |
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10 Dec 02 - 09:46 AM (#844510) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dave Bryant "S-h-i-t-e" wails the barkeep, "These godamme townies - Thermostat - the only thermostat we got is how fast you can chop them logs and stuff 'em into the boiler !" Having managed to restore her dignity (and volumous draws) the woman eyes the old packet rat - "Why didn't you ask earlier, honey" she drawls "It's the first time I've managed to get these bloomers back on for three days an I sure ain't taking 'em off now till they need changin' an'that won't be fer at least a week". She picks up the bag and drags out a dead cat - "Here's sometin fer the stewpot" she shouts an chucks it to the barkeep who commences to skin it. The old man in the corner is heard to say "Why didn't I think of that - I've been trying to get shot of it ever since I left Harlow". The door opens and in oozes Kate the belle of the bar. She suddenly notices the old packet rat. "Jeezus Ahab" she says "they told me you'd been wrecked - and now that I see you - I can see you still are". |
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10 Dec 02 - 10:59 AM (#844546) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: My guru always said Whiskas a-quiver and with tail held high, the bedraggled tabby slid through the open door and stared at the curious throng within. 'Hey, is that an Aurochs being set to sizzle. I ain't quite sure what that is but it smells like it might be edible one day. Guess I'll just hang around till it's time to eat' thinks she.... The air warms her fur, melting the snow which starts to puddle around her paws. She moves on, slowly, cautiously investigating the Tavern's inhabitants, ears pricked for sudden movements. Humans haven't been the friendliest folks she's known & that monkey has a strange gleam in his eye.... Reaching the cover of the tree she breathes once more & begins to groom, spitting out the twigs and other 'jewellery' she's accumulated on her long cold journey to this place. She teases a small pine cone from her tail, it becomes lodged among the inner branches of the tree where it will never be noticed. Dry and warm she allows herself to relax a little in her safe haven under the tree. Curling up comfortably she keeps a watchful eye on the folks in the bar.... |
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10 Dec 02 - 11:17 AM (#844568) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: catspaw49 Well I thought i'd drop in and see how things were going and.........uh, where is everybody anyway?.........What the hell is up here?.............Ah, Mario!!! ................Geez man, I thought the place was deserted......kinda' weird because I see all these people supposedly around here and yet all I really see when I get here are cardboard cut-outs from these sillyass third person musings!!!! What the fuck is that anyway? ...............Say what? Oh........Well okay..................."The Spaw stands around for a few minutes in third person and leaves................" Spaw |
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10 Dec 02 - 11:42 AM (#844592) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dave Bryant As 'Spaw left the bar everyone was holding their noses and their breath. K-e-r-i-s-t said the man in ther corner "That guy only comes in here to fart - at least with two dimensional flatulence you can roll it up and put it on the fire". |
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10 Dec 02 - 11:51 AM (#844604) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Morticia NOOOOOOOOooooooooohhhhh, don't try it, he didn't mean it....KABOOOM....oh dear.Well, the moggie doesn't look much worse....sorry, kitty. |
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10 Dec 02 - 11:53 AM (#844606) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Amos Hey, was that Spaw I saw leaving? Jeeeze, that guy is downright unneighborly!! So who's tending the bar? Any more of that brown stuff in the back? Tell ya boys, it has been one helluva year all things considered. Damndest bronc ride I ever took. But it's settling out okay -- we got those CDs out and that seems to be working out okay, huh -- beautiful music. And TGG's back on her feet and has acquired Mandolin skills, as well as her prior art knocking 'em dead on the Celestial Spheres. Hey, who's that hippy with the Indian and the Silvertone? He plays pretty good! A |
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10 Dec 02 - 11:54 AM (#844609) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario *puts a saucer of cream down for the cat* oh HECK! it's almost Christmas...I'm going to add a real treat... *puts down a plate of chopped peacock liver* |
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10 Dec 02 - 12:05 PM (#844629) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Bee-dubya-ell ....as the drunk lifted his head up from the puddle of spilled Guiness and forced his eyes back into focus, he spotted the needlepoint sampler on the wall behind the bar: So.... We ain't Herman fuckin' Melville and this damn sure ain't Moby fuckin' Dick! |
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10 Dec 02 - 01:08 PM (#844684) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Sorcha In the distance a lone figure struggles against the blizzard. Up close can be heard vile mutterings. "Bloody effing snow. Bloody effing car. Fine time to leave me". "Just who made the Law about White Christmas, anyway? I'd like to hang Irving Berlin up by the balls." Her only protection from the fierce blizzard is a fiddle case. It is barely adequete to block the wind and snow from her eyes. "Basta, what am I going to do if my fingers freeze? Be just my luck that dear Maggie will freeze and split right in two. How in blue blazes am I supposed to earn my keep then? Sing? Nah, nobody lets me sing.....WAIT a minute. I could sing one, then they would pay me not to sing!! THAT'S IT!!" Through the swirling snow appears a small tar paper shack. "Well, at least it will be out of the wind if I can make it there" She continues stumbling on near frozen feet. There might be a crack of light at the bottom of the door; the blizzard is too strong to tell. HOPE SPRINGS ANEW!! Only 8 more yards to the Mudcat Tavern. Alas, she stumbles and falls, fingers just scraping the door of Salvation. Falling, she protects the precious Maggie with her body. |
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10 Dec 02 - 01:25 PM (#844696) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario Anyone hear something at the door? could someone *okay - the sausage recipe calls for a head of garlic per kilo of meat - , your average aurochs dresses out about 1000 kilo. Shite! Maybe I can get someone to peel them for me...* |
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10 Dec 02 - 01:27 PM (#844699) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Amos THe Stranger strode to the door in three swift steps and swung it open. In short order, the frostbitten newcomer was seated in front of a chortling fire, a tall snifter of five-star brandy in her trembling paw, and her wrists and fingers were being vigorously rubbed by a variety of comely warm-blooded administrators. THe color came back into her cheeks and she actually smiled. "Hey maybe it's not that bad after all...", she thought, as the brandy began seeping through her blood/brain barrier. Not so bad at all....". SHortly, Maggie's case was open, and the laughing call of a lively fiddle pouring out a quick-step dance tune was making toes tap and heads nod and jaws grin the length and the breadth of the Christmas Tavern. |
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10 Dec 02 - 01:42 PM (#844711) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: katlaughing Being a person of strange and mysterious powers, I knelt down to help the poor fiddler-woman to her feet. The snow melted around us as I filled her with indescribable warmth. I gave her one of my Cheshire cat grins and helped her up the stairs to the door of the mangy looking revellers' retreat. I was tempted to wave my magic wand and tune up the instruments and voices, but then remembered the Venerable One's admonition: Do not mess with the natural order of things...let sleeping dogs lie, shrill voices sing, off-colour jokers abide...snow melting is okay in small areas...brewing up some extra special vile black stuff is acceptable only in an emergency or when you are asked for a miracle. The VO droned on in my head. I knew there was one things I could do without any requests; I could set that mog under the tree up for life. I could also redeem the life of the mog in the stew by making those who contributed to it and ate it sicker than their worst sick dog, worse then their worst hangover, so bad that they would rue the day they ever thought to malign the Sacred Craychures! |
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10 Dec 02 - 01:58 PM (#844726) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: My guru always said As the fiddle picks up the tempo everyone in the room breathes again & the tension fades away. The nameless moggie gets down off her hackles & her fur starts to flatten. Delicately she sniffs the air.... 'peacocks liver, hmmm.... and cream if I'm not mistaken! Wonder if there's any rum or chocolate in it? Those truffles last Christmas were just heavenly....' As the music soars the stray peeps out from under the tree and judges the distance to the cream. 'Well, I'd better get to it before the monkey gets there first...' |
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10 Dec 02 - 02:03 PM (#844731) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Liz the Squeak Phew... sure is a relief to get out of that damn toilet.... now.. who's gonna help a girl to a pint of Baileys? And one for my best buddy Morty.... I'd pay myself, but having been tied to the stalls since August, I think I may have missed a few days at work.... Oh, and that last stall on the left? I'd give it a few minutes if I were you. Hang on... GEEZ!!! Did I miss Spaw? Sure smells like it... and I thought that last stall on the left was bad.. No-body light anything! LTS |
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10 Dec 02 - 02:09 PM (#844739) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario Hope the cat enjoys the Bailey's...yup - there's still enough left for Liz! Great! okay - celery seed, sage, marjarom - check, check, check... dammit - how am I going to keep the WINE hidden until I can add that! |
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10 Dec 02 - 02:32 PM (#844756) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Sorcha "oooo, where am I? I may not be the Frozen Logger, but I sure am the Frozen Fiddler. Let me see my Maggie darling!! Is she alright?" "Oh, Maggie, hon, a new set of strings and you will be good as new! What about me fingers, MissKat? Are they OK? Will I be able to play again? Otherwise, you will all just have to pay me not to sing........" "Is that roast auroch and mulled wine I smell? Oh, please, could I have some? And what was that vile stuff some strange man was pouring down my throat? Nassssssssty, nasssssssty stuff." |
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10 Dec 02 - 03:03 PM (#844775) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: artbrooks The little man in the corner finishes his rendition of "Oh Holy Night" on the air bodhran and looks around. It appears that a lot has been going on while he has been concentrating. There aren't any more vile screeches coming out of the ladies can, so it looks like somebody finally got that noisy broad out...and who is that charming waif playing the fiddle? He wanders over to the bar, wondering what happened to the topless barmaid that supposedly got hired, and asks for a can of Old Frothingslosh, the pale stale ale with the foam on the bottom. The bartender says "I thought I'd heard of everything, but that's a new one on me." "How about a Mackesons, then?" he says. "Excellent choice," the bartender replies. "I can tell that you're not taken in by the ads for that nasty black crap from New Jersey, that claims to be from Ireland." He takes his pint and goes to look at the tree. "Appears a little bare yet" he says, taking a bright yellow nose flute out of his Levis pocket and hanging it on a low branch. The contented little cat looks up from her peacock liver pate' and starts it swinging with a bat from one paw. |
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10 Dec 02 - 03:19 PM (#844788) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Liz the Squeak Who you calling a noisy broad...? Let me tie you to a stall in the ladies and see how YOU like staring at arses all month.. LTS |
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10 Dec 02 - 03:28 PM (#844796) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Sorcha Oh, they are decorating a tree! Let me see here (digging through Maggies belongings.....) AHA! Just the thing, a tiny little leather mouse, oh, I still have 2 of them. Great! One for the tree and one for the kitty! I think I am starting to thaw, but not to the point of Blackberry Jam. Looks like these good folk need a rousing round of Whiskey Before Breakfast............... |
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10 Dec 02 - 03:34 PM (#844800) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse "Yeah, that tree could do with some tartin' up" (brings forth plastic inflateable sheep from under his sou'wester) "Somebody hang this critter on the topmost twig, I rescued the varmint from the last orgy, figured it would come in usefull" |
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10 Dec 02 - 03:39 PM (#844805) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: artbrooks Bare-chested man in a MacGregor kilt bursts in and looks around. Spying the tree, he says "Annie, me luv!" and grabs the inflatable sheep. Clutching it protectively, he runs back out into the night. |
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10 Dec 02 - 03:50 PM (#844809) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Amos Love is a star that will not shine Til the hour of your return. And I count the days in cups of wine, And the candles I have burned...." The stranger plucks the Dreadnought's baritone range and sings quietly across the evening chatter, noticing, across the frosted parking lot and past the shadowed branches of the guarding tree beyond, the faint glimmer of a rising star penetrating the long dark and frozen night without. He winks at the Fiddler and her precious sweet instrument across the floort, and they break into the "Florida Blues" at an outrageous clip, just as though it was planned... . The Capuccin wakes up from the hearth corner, and sopmewhat sleepily seeks the coat-tails of his companion's jacket, and makes his way up to his favorite shoulder, where he crouches smilling quietly at the noise and motion around, and sways and waves in time to the blood-warming rhythms, as the long evening gallops on into the unknown. |
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10 Dec 02 - 04:05 PM (#844819) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Liz the Squeak Hey, I found this battered old silver thing, looks a bit like it was once a flute... though I don't remember a flute with 5 ends..... if we give it to the monkey, he could maybe put it up on the tree, like a star... It would sure give Morticia a break, I don't think she's very comfortable up there with that branch up her .. erm.... leg. LTS |
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10 Dec 02 - 04:13 PM (#844828) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: mytoycar i can table dance if you want me to |
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10 Dec 02 - 04:15 PM (#844832) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario Whiskey anytime! oh - she meant the song. I'm sorry. |
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10 Dec 02 - 04:18 PM (#844835) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Amos Mytoycar -- go for it!!! Ragtime tunes coming up!! "...He treat me low down an' dirty, He boun' to reap jes' what he done sowed..." A |
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10 Dec 02 - 04:26 PM (#844850) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario now where was she at Joe's Bachelor party? |
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10 Dec 02 - 04:44 PM (#844858) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Sorcha Ragtime? As in Scott Joplin???? Nah, let's do Frankie and Johnnie......in D, as you go.......... |
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10 Dec 02 - 04:48 PM (#844861) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: artbrooks The drunk lifts his head up from the puddle of spilled Guiness..."Watch out, Mario," he says. Don't ya know jail bait when ya see it?" His head falls back down again. |
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10 Dec 02 - 05:49 PM (#844911) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Amos ..but it is too late, and the comely lass is soon sending empty beer bottles in every direction, whirling and tapping, her skirt swinging just high enough as she steps to leave MMario's jaw near the floor and his eyes looking like Auroch Saucers, fixed on the occasional glimpse of bloomers in the swirling rhythm. And the wild fiddle and guitar combo in the background swiongs from "Frankie" into "Uncle Joe, Uncle Joe", which heats the room up even more and starts a rich wafting atmosphere of whiskey, sweat, Guiness, jello and raw pheremones breezing from table to table and accelerating the rich spirit of the evening. A |
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10 Dec 02 - 05:53 PM (#844915) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Sorcha Whooosh, from fozen to fast, in a mudcat mini! Time to slow down a bit, I think. Fiddle solo coming up, the lovely Southwind.......just listen and catch your breath. Any new goodies on the tree? |
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10 Dec 02 - 05:58 PM (#844919) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: JenEllen Not on the tree...but I did spend the afternoon making wreaths from the cut-off boughs of my charliebrown Christmas tree. You can hang one of them on the door! I second the 'Where was she at the bachelor party'! It was mighty cramped in that cake, a toycar woulda fit a lot better in there! |
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10 Dec 02 - 06:01 PM (#844923) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Morticia You know, this is the second year I've spent stuck up a tree, takes me months to get the pine needles out of me drawers and I can't reach the bar....oh,that was the general idea? I see. This is blatant size-ism, and even if I AM the shortest adult member of Mudcat, it's still not fair....what about Dave the Gnome? Bet he'd look lovely up here, and the view is good, specially of the jello pit. |
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10 Dec 02 - 06:05 PM (#844924) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Amos ...The Cappucin, sensing a tremor of distress in the ethereal vibes to which his kind are sensitive, looks up the tree and sees the wee Morticia stuck from a branch, pine needles drifitng into sensitive places...and in a burst of trans-species generosity, he leaps up the limbs and assists her off her perch, helping her gently to the floor, from which she makes a slightly dizzy path to the bar, seeking remedial tonics of various colors and names.... |
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10 Dec 02 - 06:16 PM (#844934) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Catherine Jayne Well there we are, Me , Noreen, Liz and Morticia propping up the bar and waiting for the evenings entertainment to begin after the place has been fumigated after 'spaw entered, farted and left when Oakley and Skipjack enter and begin dancing.....exotic dancing and removing their clothing in a ....well....you are all there!!.....Interesting eveing entertainment and not bad to watch either!!!..... |
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10 Dec 02 - 06:20 PM (#844938) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario Has anyone seen my copy of 'Preparing the Obscure Wild Game for the Holidays' It's about the size of an unabridged OED - leather bound with a wild Wassail embossed on the front cover. I need to check the seasoning for Hogmanny roast. |
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10 Dec 02 - 06:32 PM (#844946) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: GUEST A dark eyed stranger, walks in, closing the door with a thud. People glance up, but as he simply orders a beer and stands in a corner, he is soon forgotten. He dooes however notice catsPHiddle, notes how attractive she is, and wonders how he might get to talk with her. |
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10 Dec 02 - 06:35 PM (#844948) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario who's the guy in the corner doing the wooden indian imitation? Somebody warn him he's standing in front of the dart board, would you? He might take it wrong if someone starts up a game, especially with the new rocket propelled darts. |
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10 Dec 02 - 06:42 PM (#844952) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: GUEST Piss off, Leo |
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10 Dec 02 - 06:47 PM (#844955) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: artbrooks Leonetta the stray cat looks over at the guy in the corner...thinks about it a little bit, and decides it really isn't worth getting up for. She reaches out and bats the leather mouse around for a while...that wildebeest on the barbie is REALLY starting to smell good... |
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10 Dec 02 - 07:27 PM (#844974) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: SINSULL SINSULL sighs in relief to find the Ladies Room finally available. She makes her way to the nearest stall and emerges several minutes later totally confused. "Is the way out?" she asks while several young punks snicker at her apparent inebriation. The sad truth is she is simply lost. Morticia, sensing that SINS has once again confused north with south and east with west, gently steers her to the bar and another JD. "Damn maps are never done to scale. And the sun has set. How the hell am I supposed to find my way out? No wonder it took the Wise Men years to find Bethlehem. Probably used a AAA map." As she grumbles on, Morticia makes a hasty retreat to join more pleasant company. |
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10 Dec 02 - 07:27 PM (#844975) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: My guru always said 'Oh, so it's a Wildebeast now, eh? Still smells like roasting meat to me... wonder how much longer it's got to go? Why spoil a good roast with garlic? It's a vegetable isn't it? The hor's d'euvrs (??) were excellent though, & Baileys, well, a cat could get used to that stuff. Any more there LTS? Just pass it along under the table, there's a good lass.' The leather mouse makes a desperate bit for freedom, but she's onto it in a flash, throwing it into the air, catching it, throwing it again and.... Oops, she's out in the open & there's all these people around. Freezing into place, she calmly sits & starts to wash her whiskers - she wasn't playing at all, doesn't do that sort of thing of course. 'Now where's that lovely Fairy gone from the top of the tree? Perhaps her magic wand could make me understand these humans... Naah, probably not. They sure are good with their fingers making all that music from all those instruments! Us cats have only got our voices & humans only understand the purring bit.....' |
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10 Dec 02 - 08:13 PM (#844997) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse The old sea-dog eyes the top of the now empty tree, and remembering days long passed, starts climbing. Reaching the top, he settles down to act as look-out. From within the voluminous folds of his old sou'wester he drags out an ancient weather-beaten chinese imitation cajun kazoo, and begins playing Jolie Blonde as the tears roll down his cheeks. "Oh! Oh! Ma jolie blonde Oh! Oh! Oh! T'es p'tite fille Jolie blonde, si jolie Oh! T'es magnifique Tu m'as quitté, pour t'en aller Mais quel espoir me va moé avoir de ramener?" Seeing the strange blue sky with the words *Translate Page From English to French* he turns and spits to leeward. "Can't translate shit" he says, then plays a more cheerfull song. Old Stormy, he is dead an' gone, timme way, ye Stormalong Old Stormy he is dead an' gone, Aye, aye, aye, Mr Stormalong. |
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10 Dec 02 - 08:38 PM (#845008) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Sorcha Well, perhaps the leather mouse was just a bit tacky. I am sure the Tavern Mog would prefer one made of real rabbit fur, with a squeaky inside. Here ya go, mog doll. This one should keep you happy for a while. Exhausted, frostbitten frozen fiddler sneaks off to find recliner with a sugar dog in it.........scooch over, there, sugar dog, I am a tired frozen fiddler. Ahhhhh, that's better. snooze, snooze, SNORE! SNORE!! (yes, this tiny elfin frozen fidder snores............) |
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10 Dec 02 - 09:30 PM (#845041) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Geoff the Duck Shambling oddbod in a bright chartreuse blouson and puce trousers charges in through the door. Hi tie catches on the hinge and he is catapulted back into the street! There ensues a crashing noise as he skittles the garbage cans, followed by a short siren blast, as the cop car careers sideways into the trash! |
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11 Dec 02 - 01:06 AM (#845119) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: GUEST,Yorkshire Tony who's lost his cookie A door which no one seems to have noticed before opens with a creek and a sunburnt, bearded figure in felt hat, singlet, shorts and thongs (the rubber antipodean variety) enters. Jeez, what are you lot all rugged up for? You could fry an egg on the pavement out there and we haven't seen a drop of rain in three months. Someone give me a cold beer for Christ's sake. His aged tortoiseshell cat follows more demurely lured on by the aroma of cream and roasting aurochs. She sees the other moggy by the fire and wanders over to say hello, and is there any Baileys left? |
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11 Dec 02 - 01:18 AM (#845125) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: mg and then, from outside, the most ragged bunch of glue-sniffing, malnourished, parasite-ridden children of the streets, singing in perfect harmony, "It came upon a midnight clear.." and one slips to the door..please miss, we're hungry... mg |
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11 Dec 02 - 10:39 AM (#845163) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse The figure atop the tree pulls a cutlass from under his sou'wester. "Do I hear Carol Singers?" he shouts. "Stand by to repel boarders" |
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11 Dec 02 - 10:41 AM (#845165) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: My guru always said Nose to nose & rear to rear the tabby & tortoiseshell greet each other as old friends do. 'Hey, 'Sand-Camoflaged-Lizard-Strike' (Camo for short), good to see you, you oull bugger. Just waiting to see if these folks get the idea to top up the Baileys bowl. Might have to nudge them a bit, but I have a cunning plan...' 'How's the aurochs getting along? Sure smelling tasty - roast or sausage? Don't tell me they put garlic all over it? We'll need to hold our noses, but it'll be worth it I suppose' replied Camo, settling in for a long wait. Silently they both analysed the contents of the leather mouse which had come undone at the seams. Then studied the rabbit fur toy. 'I bet it squeaks' Camo declared, and dozed off in the warmth from the nearby fire. Leonetta the nameless Tabby sidled up to the bar, leapt & tentatively sniffed at the puddle of Guiness which just happened to be pillowing the Drunk's head. |
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11 Dec 02 - 11:02 AM (#845179) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario Okay! It's amazing how many roasts you can cook when you use an entire ROOM as an oven!!!!! The first of the sausages are ready - plus a nice juicy rare aurochs roast. It be about half an hour for medium roast... *puts out a platter of garlic sausages, another of rare aurochs slices; a mound of coriander scented sausages, a platter of rosemary and mustard seasoned links.* dipping sauces are lined up on the mantlepiece - and watch it, the habenero mustard is a little spicy. |
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11 Dec 02 - 11:06 AM (#845181) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dave Bryant In spite of the Captain Ahab look-alike on top of the tree who is still brandishing his cutlass and making incoherent threats the carol singing children enter to the bar and are provided with stew consisting mainly of the dead cat that the old man in the corner brought in. Meanwhile the dark-eyed stranger has come to a decision, and climbing on the bar, manages to whisper something into catPHiddle's ear. |
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11 Dec 02 - 11:09 AM (#845185) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario oh! *plops a large platter on bar. It contains a vagualy birdlike roasted object - looking like a gigantic turkey with legs proportioned almost like a grasshoppers - and a long, long neck* Try the velociraptor - tastes like chicken - sorta. |
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11 Dec 02 - 11:18 AM (#845191) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Amos SOmeone opens the door and summons in the pathetic carolers, who are all under three feet tall with bright red noses and twinkly little eyes. The pathetic expressions they had been trying on for size quickly melt in the warm room as all eight of them come trooping in and notice MMario's gigantic sausage ... make that, platter of sausages with garlic standing on the buffet table by the fireplace. THey come scrambling up to form a food-line, pushing for place and bumping their heads against the edge of the table in their anxiety to get full rashers. "Move over, you son of a Gillikin!! I was here first!!" "Oh, you were not! just because you used to be the Mayor, you give yourself such airs." "Oh, airs, is it then? Talk like such a yellow-blood just because you think the Lollipop League was such hot stuff. I oughta feed you to the witch!" "I'll stuff you under an old house, you bag of wind!" Others among the miniscule league start to join in the squabble, but Morticia intervenes. "Now, cousins...I am sure there's more than enough for all your wee little bellies! Be nice, it's Christmas." The leader of the wee gang puts down a large yellow brick with which he was about to assert his alpha status and looks up at the nice smile coming his way from Morty. "Hey, there sweet heart!! You sure are tall!! Where'd you come from?? You look a little like my old buddy Glinda the Good! COme over here and tell me all about yourself!!" The two of them carry heaped platters and tall mugs of brown ale to a small table on the opposite side of the room, and are soon immersed in deep conversation which shall go unreported.... |
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11 Dec 02 - 11:44 AM (#845210) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dave Bryant There is a clatter of hooves outside the door and an old horse trots into the bar. Written on a halter around it's neck is the incription "PUNCH - if found - please return to Humberside, England". MMario the Chef rushes into the bar and drags it off saying "Just what I need for my spice and herb Spit-Roast". |
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11 Dec 02 - 11:50 AM (#845216) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: GUEST,Sarah Someone in Hull dials 999! |
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11 Dec 02 - 11:59 AM (#845222) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Kim C Suddenly, in runs the belly dancer, in a red outfit trimmed with white marabou, laden with little tinkling bells, dancing to Bruce Cockburn's version of Angels We Have Heard on High. |
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11 Dec 02 - 11:59 AM (#845224) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Amos The wrinkle faced balding Chief Munchkin, well into his third pint, is tearfully relating the story of his brother-in-law's third cousin once removed, except that he can't quite articulate the relationship clearly for some reason. "Annywye, I loiked 'im, I did!! (sniff!) And when they tole me he'd ended up hanging up there in that tree, it nearly broke my 'eart!! We tried to arrange for some studio hands wiv a ladder tuh git him down, like, but the Goldwyn Meyer finks wouldn't allow it!! I tell yer, I was 'eartbroke." "Aw, sweetie," Morty chirps, "I know eggzackly how you feels!" THey hold hands over their empty platters and gaze tearfully into each other's eyes. |
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11 Dec 02 - 12:04 PM (#845227) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario *puts the horse out to pasture behind the Tavern - using the Southern Hemisphere door. * didn't mean to scare you. I only meant you'd be good to TURN the spit...won't need you for a bit anyway. |
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11 Dec 02 - 12:38 PM (#845259) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Matt_R *kicks amp* *rips into Vince Guaraldi's "Christmastime is Here" with heavy distortion like Steve Vai does... |
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11 Dec 02 - 12:43 PM (#845264) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Rustic Rebel Nobody has noticed that I am still here in my corner of the bar sipping on Cuervo but I see the party is raging all around me, so I reach into my bag of tricks and pull out my A, I start playing a long, slow rendition of Come into my Kitchen, I'm making up the words as I go- I'm at the mudcat tavern, it's quite a scene. You can shake your monkey, if you know what I mean. oh won't you come, into MMario's kitchen because it's going to be snowing outdoors. Well there's plenty to drink and plenty to eat MMario cookin' up, big ol' hunks of meat. Oh- won't you come on, into MMario's kitchen because it's going to be snowing outdoors. Well I'm havin' a good time, and the music is fine. Everybody off there feet, just a' shakin' their behinds Oh, won't you come into MMario's kitchen, Because it's going to be snowing outdoors. MMario shoots a glance at me, and I read it like, "hey I don't want anyone in my kitchen, here eat a sausage" I put down my harp. There was something else I had to do anyway, so I reach into my bag of tricks and find the video of "The Wizard of Oz" and and an old copy of "Through The Looking Glass" and I go over and put it under the tree. |
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11 Dec 02 - 12:44 PM (#845265) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Catherine Jayne Dark-eyed stranger asks leans over and asks me what I would like to drink... Deciding not to mix my drinks I order a Baileys on ice making sure that Morty, Noreen and Liz get a top up too........ |
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11 Dec 02 - 12:45 PM (#845266) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Kim C (Matt! Where you been?!!!?) |
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11 Dec 02 - 01:08 PM (#845279) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: My guru always said For the second time that day the Tabby is in exactly the right place at the right time - is that lucky or what? She wonders if the Lady with the strange & mysterious powers has had anything to do with it?? Then looking around & with a determined sort of cross-eyed grin on her face, hauls the Velociraptor off the bar & legs it under the tree. She & Camo waste no time in looking at the big bird. The bloke in the corner drinking the Cuervo does a double-take as he realises that his dinner has just disappeared. 'Shoulda bin quicker puttin them pressies under the tree' thinks he.... Burping is heard from the lower branches of the tree & the yellow nose-flute is rocking away next to the antique gold glass ball. The swarthy old Seadog looks around curiously. The Fiddler has woken up & she & the Silvertone launch into another tune.... |
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11 Dec 02 - 01:41 PM (#845315) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Amos ...and the chorus chimes in to rollicking bluegrass rhythms: CHicken in the breadpan, Kickin' up dough! Granny will your dog bite? No, chile, no!... Laughter resounds until the timbers shake.... |
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11 Dec 02 - 01:47 PM (#845322) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario Some come to work, while others do play... some come to drown their sorrows away |
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11 Dec 02 - 01:52 PM (#845323) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Catherine Jayne In the far corner over by the gambling machines, Geoff the Duck prepares for the second half of this evenings entertainment in which the star of the show is himself. Geoff strips down to a leopard print thong and spends a long while chosing his drinking straw and using magic extends it between floor and ceiling. After that he carefully places the buckets of custard. Yes Geoff the Duck is going to perform his party trick as the finale to this evening entertainment......JUGGLING CUSTARD WHILE POLE DANCING!!!!!! |
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11 Dec 02 - 01:57 PM (#845326) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario I will never do acid again, I swear, never, never, never |
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11 Dec 02 - 02:01 PM (#845335) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Sorcha Auroch in the roast pan, Raptor on the grill, Granny will your cat scratch? Chile, she will! |
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11 Dec 02 - 02:09 PM (#845345) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Amos LOL!!!! Brown stuff in a giant mug Brown stuff on the floor Scratch me with a kitty-cat, An' I'll come back for more!! With a ring-a-ding-a-dong, ring-a-ding-a-daddio! My that Mario sure does serve up a mean Auroch!! LOL!! An' then she fell in love With a fella with a stammer When he tried to run away, She hit him with a hammer!! A |
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11 Dec 02 - 02:15 PM (#845353) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario She had a wooden leg, it was holow down the middle And when she put a string on it she played it like a fiddle! |
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11 Dec 02 - 03:56 PM (#845440) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Bee-dubya-ell ....meanwhile, back in the Southern Hemisphere pasture.... "So there I was just mindin' me own business when this big sumbitch with wild red hair and beard pulls me through this strange looking and awful smelling place and pushes me through the back door and here I am. I don't really mind the change in the weather too much, ya know. It were snowin' to beat the band back in that other place. Nice and warm here. But, it was gettin' on toward Christmas, ya know, and I was really lookin' forward to some leftover sprouts in a coupla weeks. Don't suppose sprouts grow 'round here this time a year, do they?" "Holy Christ!!!! What the fook is that? Looks like a fookin' red rat but the sumbitch is six fookin' feet tall! What? A kangaroo? So that's what a kangaroo is! Heard of 'em before, but never seen one. Say what? They train 'em to box? No shit? Don't suppose one of 'em would be interested in going a round or two with a fellow named Winston, do ya?" |
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11 Dec 02 - 04:10 PM (#845451) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Morticia Meanwhile there are dark mutterings over in the beer stained corner where Morticia and the Munchkins have united to form a militant faction of the Small Persons& Elves Workers Evolutionary Dawn ( SPEWED for short). "Rain, rain go away, Let someone else fill Santa's Sleigh" and "One, two, One two three YOU try sitting up a tree" can be heard over the fiddle music.Can you say Pete Seeger? |
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11 Dec 02 - 04:20 PM (#845465) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Amos LOL Morty!!! Well done!! I figgered you'd enjoy having a whole mess of guys look up to you!! A |
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11 Dec 02 - 04:37 PM (#845475) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse "Always wanted to be a star, even if it is sittin' atop this tree" muses the old sea-dog. "Hope ta Christ no bugger takes me for a fairy" He decides to climb down and see what the poor folks are doing, and on reaching the bottom, accidently knocks the bottle of Baileys over, spilling the contents into the cats bowl. He doesn't notice. He HAS noticed that the front door leads to a frozen European winter, while the side door comes out on the Dandenong Ranges. So he gets to figuring..........and pushes through the Fire Exit. "SHIT" He shouts. "I was hopin' this'n led to Louisiana, not bloody Hull9" |
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11 Dec 02 - 04:41 PM (#845477) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario Who the HECK ordered 120 bushels of Brussels Sprouts! the entire celler is full of sprouts! I went down to get some parsnips...and found the celler full of sprouts. I need a drink. caffiene. Lots of caffiene. |
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11 Dec 02 - 05:01 PM (#845493) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: GUEST,YT still cookieless Refreshed by a fell cold ales, YT wanders over to the tree, scratches the two cats behind their respective ears, and pulls a pile of clip-on koalas and kangaroos out of his pockets with which he proceeds to adorn the tree. Jeez, seems like everywhere I go they give me one of thiese things. It's like "You poor bloody pom, have a clip-on koala". I'm not one to complain but I'd rather have a beer. As Mario reenters the bar from the southern hemisphere door, a loud hammering is heard and the door flies open to reveal a sunburnt and bewhiskered Morris dancing side, who charge into the bar with unearthly whoops at the sight of beer, women and (in one case) sheep. In no time the young nubile exotic dancer has been tied to a post with handkerchiefs and a fertility dance commences around her - not as though she looks as if she needs one. Others have hijacked the inflatable sheep and are playfully batting it around the roof with Morris sticks, while the rest are lining the bar. |
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11 Dec 02 - 05:11 PM (#845500) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse "Can't help ya there, MMate. But I have got a soda syphon full of Sloe Gin, its got one o' them Sparklets thingys in, so the stuff comes out under pressure. It don't harm the flavour and it gives it a good head" |
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11 Dec 02 - 05:54 PM (#845533) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: artbrooks The two cats leave off batting around the leather mouse...the poor thing is a bit worse for wear by this time, anyway...and go over to check out what some clumsy oaf poured into their drinking bowl. Certainly isn't water...milk? cream? Baileys!!! They dive in, figuratively and literally. |
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11 Dec 02 - 06:06 PM (#845538) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario Is any one else getting the visuals I am from the phrase "leather mouse"? no? okay - I guess I'm more perverted then I thought! |
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11 Dec 02 - 06:12 PM (#845540) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Rustic Rebel I walk over to 'My Guru always said' and being high on tequila, I give him a tit shot, exposing my breasts which are 48"long. "Now who are you calling a BLOKE?" The children carolers stare with shock and horror on their faces. I turn away whistling, 'Knockers Up' and walk over to do some knee slapping with the fiddler players. |
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11 Dec 02 - 06:43 PM (#845558) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Gareth The other side door opens - a view over the veldt is exposed, JEM- Wales staggerd in, sunburn peeling, she saunters over to the Christmas tree and quietly removes a pair of chameleons from her trekcot, and places them on the tree. They quietly have a nervous break down trying to match th flashing lights. ( True she did this once - Very confused chameleons ! ) Gareth |
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11 Dec 02 - 06:44 PM (#845559) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: My guru always said 'OK, so the plan is - we hold this thing with the Squeak in it hostage till it's namesake promises to serve us with Baileys & Roast Aurochs for the rest of our time' the Tabby confided. Camo thought about this for a while & pointed out a possible loop-hole. 'They don't know what we're talking about though, how're they going to know what we want'. 'Well, we're doing pretty well so far today, that last refill of Baileys came at exactly the right time. Sure, it's spooky, but I reckon there's a guiding hand somewhere in this joint who can wave a magic wand & I'm gonna find out who it is right now!!!' Sliding out from behind the empty bowl, the Stray tries stretching... first one paw slips, then another & she begins a slow descent back to the sawdust. 'Maybe a bit later on though...' The Cappucin climbed carefully down from his favorite perch & gently pushed the shit-faced cat back under the tree. The sound of purring filled the room, followed by an unmistakable 'plop' of sprout into custard. |
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11 Dec 02 - 06:54 PM (#845563) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: My guru always said From beneath the tree came what sounded like 'Wow!' followed by 'Oops, pardon me!' The chameleons tittered nervously... |
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11 Dec 02 - 07:16 PM (#845581) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Sorcha LOL, I love these things! Fiddler says it is time for a break long enough to taste the auroch before it is gone. Those cats under the tree seem just a tad soused, no more Baileys for a bit. I don't want to know about hungover cats....the chamelons seem safe from them for a while, at least. |
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11 Dec 02 - 09:47 PM (#845691) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dave Swan Funny looking skinny middle aged guy slides goofy moustache out of a middle aged Volvo. It's quiet in the tavern parking lot (car park..simultaneous translation provided by Lane, Fielding, Patterson & Swan , Layabouts for Hire) no sled dog races tonight. None of the Reg boys in sight. The coast is clear to unload the props. Two gallons of kerosene (parafin), a bucket of lime Jello (insert British jelled dessert, what do you want for free from a bunch of layabouts?), one fire helmet, one new pair of fishnet stockings, a thirty foot extension ladder, a box of Swan Vestas, half a gorilla suit. Time for the diving flaming fart wearing half a gorilla suit into an ignited fireman's helmet full of lime Jello trick. It hasn't been done in years, but Jen Ellen's thrown open the tavern doors, and what the hell, it'll probably only cost a femur. Suddenly, he finds himself in a hairy half Nelson. A note, scrawled in crayon is thrust into his hand. He holds it before his bulging eyes. YOU pRty Kute HAF hAirY Guyyyyyyyyyyyy, Tak mi intwo TvaRn. We Mak my Big M ick gellUS. DANCE wiht ME . Kiss me HUGG me, Lke I hug you. He realizes that it's Koko in the throws of her primate hormones, come to reclaim Big Mick, her lost jungle love. He screams with his last breath "Take her off by hands, you big bog trotter...." then with visions of hairy, rubbery lips descending onto his, he passes into tortured unconsciousness. |
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11 Dec 02 - 09:54 PM (#845700) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: catspaw49 Oh gawd no.....not the Flaming Fart Swan Hi-Dive again........The last time he did that in here a passing guest shit in the Jell-O pit and we were a week getting the smell out of here...............Mario, I hate to mention this but I just found Cleigh in the sprouts and uh...........well, wash 'em good or throw them out.......sorry........ Spaw |
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11 Dec 02 - 10:28 PM (#845721) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Amos ROTFLMdamnedAO, you guys!!! A |
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11 Dec 02 - 10:46 PM (#845729) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Tinker As the car pulled into the lots an old blues scratched it's way through the speakers.... I met a man last night, people he was just my size I'm taking him home with me, to bake my cakes and pies He's a kitchen mechanic, and he makes my biscuits rise He use the best baking powder, and his biscuit's just my size That man makes my bread rise, way late hours of the night The kind of bread he serves me, I swear it's out of sight People, people I found my type of man at last. And he's just my size, and he ain't too dog gone fast. "Lot's of good cookin' here abouts," she said with a slow satisfied smile. But, as she stepped out of the car she tripped over a fireman's helmet and slid towards the door on a trail of lime jello... |
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12 Dec 02 - 12:51 AM (#845755) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Lonesome EJ In a dark corner, Ebenezer Leej sits counting gold pieces and finishing off a crust of bread. MMario approaches and says "more bread, sir?" Leej gives him a phlegmatic look and snaps "is there a charge for it?" MMario blinks and says "ha'penny." Leej snarls "no more bread." He spits in the center of a gold sovereign and shines it on the sleeve of his greatcoat, holding it to catch the light. Up to the table, a garland of holly round his top hat, steps artbrooks, saying with bright good humor "a Merry Christmas to you Mr Leej!" but the old miser, flicking a moth off his moneybag, barks "Christmas! Humbug! Every fool who goes about with "a Merry Christmas" on his lips should be boiled in his own plum pudding and buried with a stake of holly through his heart!" "Fine," replies artbrooks,'then go fuck yerself." Leej is still searching for a clever rejoinder when every clock in the Mudcat Tavern begins to peel simultaneously. Suddenly, a clatter as of several hundred pounds of steel chain being dragged and dropped on the oaken floor outside the Tavern door hushes those inside. The door creaks open and there, amid a billowing cloud of mist produced by a fog machine he has plugged into the outlet on the front porch, stands a pale and ghastly figure cloaked in tattered raiment. The figure takes several lurching steps into the Tavern and by the light of the tallow candle, Leej makes out the hideous features, and says in solemn wonder "Peter T!" "Ebenezer Leej," intones the specter. Leej continues "and have you been doomed to wander the earth, suffering most at this time of the rolling year?" "You bet," says the ghost," and frankly I'm completely burned out on the entire process. Mind if I sit down?" Leej gestures to a stool and Peter T sits through it, crashing to the floor with a clamor of heavy chain." I somehow continue to overlook the fact my ass is completely unsubstantial," Peter T says, shaking his head in good natured disbelief. "In fact, I'm pretty much a figment of your imagination. You know, no more than a fragment of..of.." Leej finishes "an under-done potato?" The specter shakes its head "no..no, I was thinking mango. Maybe guava. Something tropical anyway. Anyhow, I'm here to offer you another chance." "Chance? At what?" "To experience the Spirit of Mudcat. Frankly, you're not listening to enough folk music." "But what," replies Ebenezer Leej, "is "folk music" anyway?" The grim figure stands bolt upright and howls hideously as Leej cowers in his chair. It extends a spectral, chain-decked arm and says "for the love of God, let's not get into that!" It turns amid the scraping of chain, money boxes, and several National Dobros across the floor, and says "you will be visited by three spirits this night. Expect the first at Midnight...the second as the the hour turns to One..and the third at the stroke of Two! Look to see me...no more." The figure vanishes through the door. Leej reaches into his waistcoat pocket and with quivering fingers produces an ornate timepiece. "Gee. I wonder if he means Midnight Mudcat Time, or Mountain Standard..." The voice booms from beyond the door "now you're really starting to PISS me OFF!" "Damn!" gulps Leej. "He's good." |
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12 Dec 02 - 12:59 AM (#845760) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: mg And at midnight Mudcat time a beautiful apparition was seen by the good of heart...she looked like a Druidess in a berry red velvet with mistletoe in her long blond hair that had never been tamed with a curling iron....I am the spirit of the Old Old Ways and the Old Old Songs and the Old Old Stories. What say ye... mg |
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12 Dec 02 - 02:28 AM (#845775) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Yorkshire Tony The Morris men break off accosting the inflatable sheep and exotic dancer to contemplate the druidess with long blond hair - then immediately perform a dance around her before attempting to make off with her for further activities in the spitit of the Old Old Ways. The tequila enhanced rustic rebel gets a shock to find that "my guru" is in fact a female tabby cat who, along with her tortie friend, react the way that cats usually do to having 48" dangley things waved in front of them - the shrieks as she rise with a cat on each nipple have to be heard to be appreciated. YT - ever helpfull to damsels in distress - removes the offending felines, returns then to their Baileys and velociraptor, then attempts to kiss the injured parts better. |
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12 Dec 02 - 03:00 AM (#845788) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Liz the Squeak Hey there puss, want to earn more Baileys than you could shake a leather mouse at? Come here and let me teach you a little trick my owner Maximus Gluteous does.... just watch the claws in the lace inserts.... Did the sprouts arrive yet? I ordered them for the jello pit, thought it would make a nice festive change, and no-one actually likes cranberries. Will the hon. member for SPEWED accept another drinkiepoos? I rescued the bottle from the cats... now if I could just stop the chameleons from getting too close to the cats, WOW - cool!!! A calico chameleon... er.... should lizards and mammals be able to do that? Any one got some ice water? Ah. Well, THOSE kittens will have to be bottle fed..... Who's for a rousing chorus of 'look the other way, the cat's done something rude'..? So when do Skip and Oakley perform again? I don't remember the last performance.... too busy helping Morty get the pine needles out.. I thought she went a bit quiet.. I just thought she was in abject agony, that was a particularly spiky tree.... Ah well.. time for a snooze.. shift over kitty chameleon, let me lay my head down it that bowl of Baileys and sleep the work hours away. Wake me up when the custard stops. LTS |
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12 Dec 02 - 03:14 AM (#845793) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: My guru always said 'What a Ride!' exclaimed the Cats in Chorus, having sobered up pretty rapidly. 'This place is full of surprises' remarked Camo. 'There's more to these folks than meets the eye. I'm off to work the room, leave the Chameleons alone while I'm gone, they're not lizards, honest!' And the Tabby trotted warily out to investigate the happy people & face the music head-on. 'What Chameleons? These flashing lights are making me dizzy - think I'll just snooze for a while' Camo thought fuzzily - this Grand Old Tom wasn't called 'Lizard Strike' for nothing! The music drew her ever onwards into the crowded bar, whiskers a-twitching & paws a-jumping. So many fine songs & tunes & all together in one place! |
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12 Dec 02 - 03:37 AM (#845798) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Yorkshire Tony YTs aged tortie is decidedly dentally challenged - and incidentally over the legal drinking age in Australia and many other countries. The chameleon is pretty safe in her company - she even retired from mousing some years ago. I was expecting a little more reaction from the nature goddess (perhaps she enjoys multiple morris interfaces) and rustic rebel. Anyone for a recitation or two? Hannrahan is very topical in Oz at the moment and I also do some Stanley Holloway. Hey Liz - I do a pretty good back massage - no claws - you interested? |
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12 Dec 02 - 04:06 AM (#845805) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Rustic Rebel I swear, men are so dependent on the nipple, from a babe to the grave. Me thinks I've got 'Cat Scratch Fever' Is there a Dr. in the house? Oh hell, just give me some lime and coconut, and mix 'em both up. I'll have a shot with that please bartender. |
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12 Dec 02 - 06:11 AM (#845820) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse No ice! That bloody stuff sank the Titanic! Time for a monologue:- Twas a cold winters night on a Liverpool quayside In the years before the Great War The world was in shock at the loss of Titanic So proud had they been, days before. Relatives gathered for news of their loved ones To read through the list of the dead When into the throng came a sad eyed old polar bear And to the clerk at the counter he said...... (altogether now) |
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12 Dec 02 - 06:15 AM (#845822) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Yorkshire Tony I have a doctorate in physical sciences - indeed I can be a very physical scientist when circumstances dictate. Now what did you want rubbing and where? Oh, and by the way, how old are you? Old Camo has probably curled up back near the fire and Baileys by now - she knows a good thing when she sees one. Where did the Morris dancers and the nature goddess get to? Does this place have upstairs rooms or convenient oak groves? |
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12 Dec 02 - 07:00 AM (#845837) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dave Bryant Rustic Rebel sits down and bathes both of her nipples (at the same time) in the soothing mixture. "Good God !", cried one of the morris men (losing his place in the queue for the sheep) "Is that how they work ? - you fill them up like giant fountain pens !" |
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12 Dec 02 - 09:36 AM (#845854) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: artbrooks Two rather bedraggled spirits float in through one of the cracks in the door. One resembles a haggered, middle-aged single mother of eight and the other lookes as if she lived a long, cruel life and been buried for a week. "What the heck time is it, anyway?" the apparently older of the two asks. "Mandylou had an appointment with some old fart called Ebenezer Leej at one AM, and I was supposed to haunt the bugger at two. We was down by the oak grove waiting our turn when Bronnie...that's Brunhilde to you...showed up with almost an entire Morris side. Boy! Ya shoulda seen what one of those old boys did with his damn bells! Anyway, we got distracted, and one of them borrowed my watch so the other ones wouldn't cheat, and we lost track of the time, and anyway, here we both are, so where's old Ebenezer? |
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12 Dec 02 - 09:47 AM (#845863) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario *replenishes the aurochs platter; adding the roasted parsnips and the (washed VERY carefuly) steamed sprouts with almonds; ginger-honey candied baby carrots* who would have thaught with an entiere aurochs we'd be running low on meat? This crowd can EAT! *pulls a cornish game hen from freezer* guess I'll have to try and stretch it out. |
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12 Dec 02 - 10:30 AM (#845906) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: GUEST,A. non So what did happen to the iceberg? |
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12 Dec 02 - 12:16 PM (#845972) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Bee-dubya-ell Meanwhile, even further into the Southern Hemisphere......"How much further?", you ask? Think way south. No, not the southern coast of Oz. Keep goin'. Yeh, that's it! You got it! The South Pole....... A rather small red-cheeked fellow wearing a dirty green jumpsuit and carrying a rather full canvas mail-bag comes limping into what appears to have once been an office but is now so cluttered with broken musical instruments that there is hardly room to move.. Behind the desk sits a thin, scruffy man of about fifty who bears a startling resemblance to Ted Nugent. He is idly noodling on a lovely, obviously custom-made koa dreadnaught. He looks up when the small fellow addresses him. "Yo! Santa Cruz! Check this out! More letters from those Mudcat weirdoes." Santa Cruz puts down the D and takes the bag of mail from the little guy. "Aw, damn, Elf-dude! I thought I was through with that bunch. Hell, let's see what they want..... Art Brooks wants a new Tony Stuart tuneable bodhran. Hey! Good choice there, Art ! Bee-dubya-ell wants a Jerry Read Smith chromatic hammer dulcimer! Hah! In your dreams dude! You're gonna have to be satisfied with a coupla sets of guitar strings just like last year! Sorcha wants an Amati fiddle. Hey, girl, did you hear what I just said to Bee? Rewind and play back. John From Hull wants a case of bears. So what else is new? Oakley wants the undying love of Miss Penelope Rutledge. Aw, Jeez, Oakley! I'm only Santa Cruz, not God! I can do the improbable, but the impossible's His field." "Aw Hell! That's enough work for one day. Yo! Elf dude! Screw this shit. Let's take the sled out for a shakedown cruise. Yoke up them rain-deer. Yes, I said 'rain-deer'. I know your old boss up north has 'reindeer'. These aren't the same. These sumbitches are called 'rain-deer' 'cause they're too damned dumb to come in outta the rain. Got 'em ready! Okay, dude. Let's go find that Mudcat Tavern. I hear they've got Aurochs sausage with lots of garlic, free running Tequila, and women of questionable morals. Just my kind of place." "On Gibson, on Fender, on Collings and Martin! On Breedlove, on Yamaha, Larivee and Lowden! Yeh, I know it doesn't quite rhyme. So, sue me, ya dipshits. Get movin' ya lazy damned things! No tellin' where them crazy fuckers have got that Mudcat Tavern parked." |
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12 Dec 02 - 12:19 PM (#845977) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Amos SANTA CRUZ???!!! ROTFLMAO, bwl!! Hilarious stuff!!! A |
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12 Dec 02 - 12:25 PM (#845982) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario Up on the rooftop is heard the galumphing of heavy hooves (Raindeer being much louder then reindeer) and a heavy *thud* as something rams into the HVAC unit on the roof. Dammit! Probably that Santa Cruz character again. And 10 to 1 he fogot Boris again - they NEVER manage to land properly without Boris the Blue Balled Raindeer guiding the sled! |
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12 Dec 02 - 12:28 PM (#845985) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Tinker "Questionable morals...!!!!" Questionable!!! Morti, I'm comin' over to join SPEWED, I may be short, but I know the morals in my songs are always VERY clear... |
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12 Dec 02 - 12:31 PM (#845989) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Amos Ohhh, Boris the Blue Balled Raindeer HAd a very lively shlong, And if you ever saw it, You would probably say "It's long..." All of the lady raindeer Used to play the teasing shtick. They never let old Boris Deep his super raindeer wick!! Then one foggy Christmas eve While Santa was away, Missus Cruz had too much wine And asked old Boris in to play! Then how the raindeer loved him!! Caught it on a mini-cam! Now they're all making money, Selling it as porno spam!! Geeze, Mario, do you have to keep coming up with these off-color inspirations? :>) A |
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12 Dec 02 - 12:35 PM (#845992) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario Amos - there is another version somewhere in the forum - probably last year's christmas party. - It might have been two years ago |
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12 Dec 02 - 12:54 PM (#846016) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Amos The Mudcat CDs are behind the bar and someone slips one into the CD player. Justapicker's madcap fingerpicking croons over the airwaves, giving everyone a lift and a grin for Christmas.... |
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12 Dec 02 - 12:58 PM (#846022) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario so That's what those things are! I've been passing them out as coasters! |
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12 Dec 02 - 01:41 PM (#846068) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Amos 'S awright, MM -- they just get better with hard use!! :>) A |
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12 Dec 02 - 03:17 PM (#846131) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse The captain (sea-dog with delusions of grandeur) swigs another tot of sloe gin, then sways eratically towards the spittoon. Mistaking it for the binnacle, he gazes into its murky depths & mumbles something about being miles off course. Just then he notices the wheel that has stuck to his bum while stuck up the tree. "Somebody get this off me" he yells, "It's drivin' me nuts" (goes off, stage right, amid groans from omnes) |
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12 Dec 02 - 04:10 PM (#846165) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: JenEllen KOKO!!! Jen drags Dave's skinny little carcass out from under the mass of gorilla flesh know as Koko. "Jeeziz, Dave," she says "Thank gawd you fell onto your back! Since Koko got her CPR card, she's been unstoppable, and very likely to blow into any orifice that's pointing skyward. Yeah, she got her CPR training, where do you think she's been lo these many moons? She's finished her nursing degree at the Mudcat Community College. Yeah, she barely passed the written, but she aced the practicals, so they let her through....." To illustrate, Koko takes a battered paper hat with the red cross out and places it on her head. She borrows a few bobby-pins from SINSULL, attaches it topside, and continues to flutter her eyelashes at Dave. Dave, meanwhile, drags his helmet full of jello towards the bar for a pick-me-up ("Hey, bartender, anything that'll get the taste of gorilla tongue outta my mouth...make it a double") Koko retreats to a table in the back, mourning her lost love, but not for long. The tavern door flies open to reveal Euphemia D. Toepicker, sister to Albert Toepicker, and purveyor of fine "Pheemy Toes" cosmetics. She singles out the lovelorn primate in a sea of lovelorn primates and rushes to the table. Minutes later, Koko is barely recognizable under flourescent blue glitter eyeshadow and layers of "Kiss Me Kiwi" lipgloss. "There!" exclaims Euphemia, as she hands Koko the mirror. "Big Mick would never be able to resist you now..." Over at the bar, JenEllen attempts to oversee the reconstruction of El Swanno. "Sure, it hasn't been attempted in years, but the fishnets still fit, right? Life is too short to not light yourself on fire. Besides, even if it does 'only cost a femur', we've got our own RedCross nurse and a half-way skilled veterinary osteopathic surgeon...what could go wrong? |
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12 Dec 02 - 04:14 PM (#846171) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario the chant rises from the throng (THRONG! With an 'R'!) El Swanno! El Swanno! El Swanno!EL SWANNO! |
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12 Dec 02 - 04:51 PM (#846197) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: mg oh the morris men are doing the ha cha cha now...mg |
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12 Dec 02 - 05:57 PM (#846238) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: My guru always said Under the tree Camo the aging Tom Cat eyes up LTS, all female & much more of a challenge than the Chameleons. He nudges the RabbitFur Toy with the Squeak inside over to her hand & she instinctively strokes it while snoring rythmically. Rolling up his metaphorical sleeves he sets himself to licking all the Baileys off her face before it congeals... She begins to purr.. Having successfully avoided the Morris Mens synchopated perambulations, the Tabby has reached the vantage point of the Mantelpiece & is determinedly checking out MMario's dip selection. She hears strange muffled curses coming through the wall behind her. The odd word came through quite clearly, LET GO, SLIPPERY WHIPS, BORIS, LEATHER MOUSE, EPIPHONE, CRY HAVOC, OMIGOD..... The thin scruffy man lands with a thud & a Yelp as the flames from the fireplace set light to his nethers. Panic ensues as Mudcatters scatter. The current SPEWED line-up holds an Emergency Committee & breaks open a bottle of Baileys to restore order. The Stranger with the Silvertone breaks off in mid-bar, grabs the Soda Syphon & drenches the latest arrival with Sloe Gin. The resultant WHOOSH denudes all previously Whiskered faces within a 5 yard radius. The Cat sniffs the air & thinks 'Is that Wild Mountain Thyme on the Barbie or is someone smoking CatNip?' |
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12 Dec 02 - 06:09 PM (#846249) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: GUEST,Polar Bear Have you heard any news of the iceberg? My family were on it, you see? |
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12 Dec 02 - 06:13 PM (#846252) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse "Bugger! That was the last of the Sloe." The Commodore (promotion at last) reaches underneath the sou'wester and produces a flask of Nelsons Blood, "Anyone for *sucking the Admiral*?" he enquires. "Suckers are ten a penny, but swallowers are hard to find" He now collapses in a heap (What of? You may well ask.) |
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12 Dec 02 - 06:14 PM (#846253) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Catherine Jayne Iceberg....something about a big boat...... |
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12 Dec 02 - 06:15 PM (#846254) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Catherine Jayne Dead Horse.....does The Admiral know about the sucking????? |
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12 Dec 02 - 06:16 PM (#846255) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: katlaughing LeeJ!!! More, more!!!! |
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12 Dec 02 - 06:25 PM (#846264) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Liz the Squeak Hmmm dreamt I was being caressed by 20grit sandpaper again; least it wasn't my chesticles this time. Oh....! what is this in my hand?? Looks like a... well, don't quite like to say what it looks like. Last time I saw one of those it had a squeaker in one end.. Ooooo... just like this one. The other had a big hairy bloke on the other end.... Ah. Well, it's hairy..... and it's big. 2 out of three is pretty good average for me. So where's the carol singing then? Anyone want to try 'Hark the Harold?'... or 'It came upon the Mudcat clear'? I'm worried about 'My guru'.... they know I purr when VERY pleased... although the snoring is just not true. it must be an asthmatic wheeze! If I didn't know better I'd say 'My guru' is too close for comfort... Best be getting that Swanno out of Morty's cleavege... brave men have been reduced to tears in there. I think it's the Ralgex, or the Wintergreen ointment. LTS |
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12 Dec 02 - 06:52 PM (#846289) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Rapparee ...and indeed they were. Were. As the quiet man, rapier at his waist, had rescued them and brought them with him to the Tavern to reunite the family. Confidently, he strode to the bar, asked for a full liter of Bushmill's 16-year-old, or Redbreast. The bartender gave him an odd look and provided a 16-year-old with a red breast. Calmly, the quiet man reached into his pack and pulled out...a trumpet. Fortunately, he also had a mute. The 16-year-old was entranced, and drifted away into the crowd. The quiet man settled for a liter of poteen. Or Sheep Dip. |
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13 Dec 02 - 12:31 AM (#846451) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Amos Mario continues chanting to his thong with a look of puzzlement on his face. "Isn't it supposed to rise up flaming or something?" , he mutters. The Bailey's seems to have crossed up childhood memories of Indian fakirs taming cobras with Buddhists chanting Om and setting themselves on fire, all retained haphazardly from a fourth grade perusal of the American Child's Encyclopdia of the World Book Omibus set, which he got by saiving box-tops from Wheaties which he paid for by delivering Grit door-to-door which was really exhausting and uphill both ways.... He slumps, drained by a flood of memory and the efforts of basting that Auroch, and swoons into the nearest davenport and the bliss of temproary unconsciousness... |
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13 Dec 02 - 02:59 AM (#846484) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: alison well at least its cool in here......... its been pretty hot the last few days........ so where are all the nibblies... and make mine a baileys with a flake in it thanks....... need a chocolate fix.... slainte alison |
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13 Dec 02 - 03:33 AM (#846499) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: My guru always said Meanwhile Santa Cruz dusts himself down, croaks a feeble HoHoHo and staggers to the Bar to restore his spirits... |
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13 Dec 02 - 04:53 AM (#846516) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Rustic Rebel Suddenly there was a silence that filled the room. It started by the fireplace and moved through the tavern quite swiftly. As if out of thin air, there stood a man. A beautiful man he was. Very tall and statuesque. He wore a grey morning coat of flowered chintz, with a cambric shirt and nankeen trousers. His hair was very dark and long, thick curls flowed around his shoulders. He was clean shaven, with a square jaw and a firm dimpled chin, and eyes that sparkled when he gazed your way. All eyes were upon him now, and then he smiled.His smiled gleamed a light enough to be blinding, for inlayed upon his tooth was a diamond of the highest quality. When the reflection from the fire met it,it shone so brilliantly,the chameleon turned itself white. He moved across the room with an agile gracefulness, and as he passed through the crowd, a waft of his perfumed body, of frankincense and myrrh filled the air. Everyone he passed seemed to elapse into a tracelike state of being. He moved like a mellifluous song to the oaken bar, and with swift grace, reached into his side bag to produce two, highly polished, gleaming, gold bullion bars, and placed them on the bar. He then spoke clear and softly, five words. He turned and opened the door and a mist seemed to surround him and swirl at his feet. As suddenly as he appeared, he was gone. The crowd was in awe.Even men had drool from the corners of their mouths.His words that were so softly spoken still echoed through our minds.And then we rejoiced! His words- "The party is on me." |
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13 Dec 02 - 05:52 AM (#846526) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse "That was my connection, and he's left two solid bars of Columbian Gold!" He eyed the assembled throng. "Bloody miracle he found this place, I swear he can walk on water, which is damn usefull when ye don't get shore leave" Rolling hisself a huge spliff, and thoughtfully scraping some *dust* into the cats bowl, he collapses in a (different) heap. "All we need now is a brace of floozies from Madam Gashees, and a good pox doctor" |
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13 Dec 02 - 08:45 AM (#846583) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Noreen And from the silence a contented mutter: "Good old Bert, always comes up trumps." |
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13 Dec 02 - 09:20 AM (#846609) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Rapparee Around him, the party was beginning to pick up speed, yet the quiet man knew that, without food, it might well slow down. Picking his mobile phone from his pocket, he flipped it open. "Scotty? Beam done two or three tonnes of archeopteryx." "Soitenly," replied the answering voice, in a Scots accent. "Cleaned and plucked. Mario shouldn't have to do all of the work. And include some good barbecue sauce. Out." And he closed the cell phone. Looking around, noticed...no! It couldn't be! Some fool had been writing tennis scores on a piece of paper -- 6-0, 6-0, 6-0 -- and had rolled it into a tube which was now being run through a pencil sharpener! Quickly, nearly instantly, the quiet man yanked away the paper tube. "Watcha do that for?" asked the grinder, belligerently. "You fool! You bloody, stupid fool!" whispered the quiet man, loudly. "Do you want to end this, this...orgy...party...good time...drunken brawl...folk festival...whatever this is? Think man! DON'T YOU KNOW WHAT OCCURS AT GROUND ZEROES????????????" |
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13 Dec 02 - 09:38 AM (#846619) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario We've already managed to survive the ONE RING - what could be worse? (the phone is broken - it doesn't ring more then once...) |
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13 Dec 02 - 09:38 AM (#846620) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Amos (oo, Rapaire....someone oughter grind YOUR zeroes for that one!) |
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13 Dec 02 - 09:43 AM (#846622) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Roger the Skiffler ..the tone deaf one slumped on the bar stool jerks awake, wrenching his hair free from where it was stuck to the spillage on the bar. He is puzzled by the ringing in his ears until he realises that some joker (Liz or Morty at a guess) had hung bell decorations on his ears while decorating the tree. Then he found someone had stuck a mince pie up his kazoo to silence it,and to add insult to injury, some cat had used his washboard for a litter tray. Pouring out another 3-star he croaks in a voice within a few miles of Roy Wood's : "I'm glad it isn't Xmas every dayeeee" He realises as he looks blearily at the inflatable sheep that it is beginning to look strangely attractive. Had he drunk too much or was he coming down with New Zealand 'flu? He has another prophylactic drink just in case it is the latter. He also thinks "one must stop thinking in the third person mustn't one?") RtS |
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13 Dec 02 - 12:14 PM (#846720) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse "A washboard? Why didn't you say you had a washboard? Here's my socks, have 'em ready by Sunday" "Oh, and not too much starch, the doc says I shouldn't have too much starch". The Admiral (Connections, you know....)goes off in search of a percussion section for his Cajun Band, the Bayou Leevee, whilst pulling a 'tit noir from under the old sou'wester. "Anybody got a teefer? a triangle will do, at a pinch?" |
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13 Dec 02 - 12:38 PM (#846741) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Rapparee "No," says the quiet one, "but I do happen to have a tambourine, a trumpet, and a tympani in my pack. Also the world's only ukeolo." "And that is...?" queried the Admiral. "A ukeolo bears the same relationship to a ukelele as a picollo does to a flute." There was widespread regurgitation upon the receipt of this information. "What key does it play in?" asked the Admiral, hesitantly. "Flat," replied the quiet man. "Sharp, though, whenever you want it to play flat. It's really quite flexible." Without warning, huge ceiling beams, heavy stones, classical music scores and other debris fell, blocking off the booth where several sat playing whist. "My God!" exclaimed the quiet man, dashing to the scene of the wreck. A large man was already there, trying to shift the pile with his hands. A button on his shirt randomly lit up messages reading "rm -r *" "SPEWED" and "Kiss Me, I'm Amos." "A nihilist, I see," said the quiet man. "Only sometimes, and then partially," was the reply. "Can we get the entry to this booth cleared? I thought to teach them something of poker." Amos shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid not. It's going to take jacks or better to open." |
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13 Dec 02 - 12:41 PM (#846743) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: artbrooks The guy over in the corner behind the spittoon perks his (long hairy) ears up and says to himself "percussion section? Did I hear somebody say percussion section? I've got my bodhran, eight tippers, a set of spoons and one of those damn egg things. Wonder where I can get a triangle?" He opens the basement door and goes down the stairs. Opening the second door at the bottom, he steps out into the warm sun beating down on the yard of a New Mexico ranch and c a r e f u l l y closes it behind him. Kicking a couple of rattlesnakes out of the way, he goes over to the ranch house's back door and takes down the cook's "come and get it" triangle. He walks back over to the barn, crunching a few tarantulas that are trying to cross the yard, aned goes up the steps to the hayloft. Opening the door, he's back in the Tavern again. "Now," he muses, "where did that guy go?" |
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13 Dec 02 - 12:50 PM (#846751) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Amos Whist begorr, Rapaire, but yer a scalawag of the first water!! LOL!! A |
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13 Dec 02 - 02:03 PM (#846800) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Bee-dubya-ell The hinged pet door that Katlaughing had installed on the Tavern door that opens onto the Emerald Isle swings open and in walks an entire family of bodhrans: twenty-four inch Daddy Bodhran (who was barely able to fit through the pet door), eighteen inch Mamma Bodhran, and at least a dozen bodhranlings of various sizes. Daddy 'Hran sees Art Brooks sitting in the corner alone and, with the trained eye of a veteran grifter, recognizes a patsy when he sees one. He motions to the rest of the Bodhran clan and they all fall in behind him in a manner reminiscent of ducklings waddling after Mamma Duck. When they arrive at Art Brooks' table, Daddy 'Hran jumps up on it, so surprising poor Art that he knocks a freshly drawn Guinness onto the floor. "Greetings!", calls out Daddy 'Hran in his deep bass voice. He is attempting to whisper, but twenty-four inch frame drums have a difficult time with volume modulation and several other 'Catters are easily able to overhear the ensuing conversation. "Me and the Missus heard that there was to be a percussion session here and you, my man, look like a person that knows a bodhran when he sees it. Now, I'm not wanting to waste your time here, so I'll get right to the point. What with the economy on the skids and all that rot, me and the Missus find ourselves in pretty dire financial straits. The only way we can see out of our current unfortunate situation is to take the drastic step of selling our own children to make ends meet." Liz the Squeak, who, along with Morticia, is sitting at the next table, overhears the conversation, jumps up out of her chair and loudly squeaks, "Baby bodhrans! Oh! How cute! May I pet one?" Morti grabs her by the arm and pulls her back into her chair. "Careful, Liz! You don't know where they've been or what kinds of diseases they might have. Just leave them alone." Art Brooks, now having fully recovered from the shock of witnessing a leaping bodhran, reaches down and picks one of the young bodhrans up by its cross-bars. He takes a quick look at the inner rim and flings the thing against the wall. "Aha!", he shouts out, "Just as a suspected! Made in Pakistan!" He reaches out and grabs Daddy 'Hran just as he is attempting to leap off of the table. "You low-life scum!", he hollers into the bodhran's face. "Trying to pass off cheap off-shore drums as genuine Irish bodhrans! You should be ashamed of yourself! Begone! And do not despoil these environs with your putrid self again!" (That fourth Guinness had put Art into an oddly Shakespearean frame of mind.) Well, the big bodhran is totally shocked at having been discovered in his scam. This type of thing had never happened to him before. He leaps from the table, gathers his retinue around him, and makes a mad dash out the pet door before any of the Mudcatters have a chance to pull out their Swiss army knives. Meanwhile, over in the corner where several instruments have been casually tossed, a large Cooperman bodhran turns to a nice looking Tony Stuart and says, "Hey babe. Wanna see a really nice looking tipper?" |
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13 Dec 02 - 04:17 PM (#846895) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Amos Replete with auroch, merriment, songs and bleeding fingertips, the Stranger smiles a slightly warm smile around the room, kisses the girls and makes them cry and hugs the barmaid --but only for a decent interval-- and heaves the Dreadnought case toward the door. As he reaches it the Cuppucin riding in its usual place blows kisses to the Mudfolk all across the various corners of the Tavern. The burbling of the giant motorcycle engine quickly settles into a steady heartbeat of power and with a graceful lean and a swift acceleration, the Indian fades into the night, bound over the mountains tothe warm desert dawn ahead. |
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13 Dec 02 - 05:16 PM (#846924) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: SINSULL And the baby bodhran, still sniffling from his jolt against the wall, cries "Daddy?" |
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13 Dec 02 - 06:42 PM (#846964) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse Surveying the rubble strewn floor, the First Sea Lord thinks to himself "Same old thing every weekend, these whist drives are getting to be a nuisance. They don't call 'em *the devils callin' cards* for nothin'". He gently fingers the pearloid buttons on his 'tit noir and plays:- Hey you get down the fiddle and you get down the bow Kick off your shoes and throw 'em on the floor Dance in the kitchen 'til the morning light, Louisiana Saturday night! Waiting in the front yard sitting on a log, Single shot rifle and a one eyed dog. Yonder come the kinfolk, in the moonlight Louisiana Saturday night! My brother Bill and my other brother Jack, Belly full o' beer and a possum in a sack. Fifteen kids in the front porch light, Louisana Saturday night! Kinfolk leave and the kids get fed, Me an' my woman gonna sneak off to bed. We'll have a little fun when we turn off the light, Louisiana Saturday night! At least, thats what he intends to play, but seein' as how he only got the thing last week, and is still on the first page of Mark Savoys *Learn To Play Cajun Box* it comes out sounding like J'ai Passe Devant De Porte, played with one finger. A voice in his ear says "This is Tracy Schwarz, lets play it again" He gives it two fingers, Churchill style. |
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13 Dec 02 - 06:49 PM (#846973) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Liz the Squeak The song says 'don't stick knives in babby's heads' but it doesn't mention bodhrains... where's the little bugger got to????? LTS |
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13 Dec 02 - 07:03 PM (#846981) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: SINSULL Lizzie! It's Christmas! He's little enough. Maybe we can convince him he is a diaphragm. So instead of hearing bells,you'll get banged! How about it? God, I have to get a night job... |
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13 Dec 02 - 07:30 PM (#846997) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse Yeah, a night job will keep you off the streets, right? |
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13 Dec 02 - 10:30 PM (#847120) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Rapparee The night was yet young, and the quiet man sat, nursing his Pile Driver (prune juice and vodka). Untroubled, his brow unfurrowed, he unconsciously traced the curves of his rapiet's hilt with his left index finger. The party was starting to get rowdy, now that the whist players had been rescued. The snow drifting through the hole in the roof added a seasonal touch, the flakes catching the colors of the lights on the tree -- or, he mused, the coloUrs of the lights for those living in countries which spelled things in odd ways. Interesting, too was watching Liz and Sinsull trying to capture the baby bodhran. They had the thing cornered, but it was spitting and snarling, its baby fangs dripping with bodhran venom. The quiet one knew that the most the venom of such a young one could do would be to paralyze its victim for a few hours, a condition not unlike drinking certain liquors. "Ah, yes," he thought, "For I have been to Ludlow Fair, and left my necktie god know where. And if I don't find it I'm gonna be awfully pissed off, since it set me back better than thirty bucks US." At that juncture a body fell through the hole in the roof, landing with a thud amidst the rubble and dust of the floor. |
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13 Dec 02 - 10:45 PM (#847129) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Bee-dubya-ell Momentarilly, the dust cleared to reveal that it was Santa Cruz's head elf, Elf-Dude that had made the unscheduled appearance from a vertical direction. "Holy shit! What a rush!", he muttered while shaking his head to clear the cobwebs. "Dude! I just stepped out of the frikkin' sled to go take a whiz and BOOM! Here I am! Man! Anybody got a joint? Who's the cutey over there? Hubba-hubba! She looks just about the right size for the old Elf-Dude." |
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14 Dec 02 - 12:49 AM (#847163) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse "Help yoursELF to the Columbian Gold on the bar, 'tit vert, while I see about that there wayward instrument" The bosun (what can I say? Some mix up about a secretary and a defence account, I was innocent of course) reaches into the depths of the sou'wester once more, and out pops a harpoon gun. He aims at the creature in the corner and fires. Liz ducks, Morti gasps. The wee Afghan bodhran is neatly skewered and impaled against the wall panel. "Got the bugger, and mounted him in one go" he cried. "Bring him alongside and get yer flensing knives out, and I'll show ye how to make a new skin for the stuffed mouse" Editors Note: No actual bodhrans were injured in any way during the compilation of this thread. Complaints of bad taste, however, should be made in writing & sent snail-mail to Dead Horse Enterprises, Kent, U.K. |
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14 Dec 02 - 12:18 PM (#847357) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse A note from ACME Supplies Ltd. Warning to users of ACME Inflateable Harpoon Gun MklV. Under NO circumstances must the sharp pointy thing be inserted into the barrel the wrong way round (i.e. point inwards) as severe damage to delicate components may result, such damage not being covered by warranty. Personal injury may also be sustained owing to backwash of violently escaping gases, and uncertain trajectory of pointy thing that may occur. The self retrieving mechanism (elastic) connected to barrel may also come adrift, causing temporary loss of pointy thing. Our lawyers have asked us to remind all customers that unauthorised use or modification renders all guarantees null and void. Yours C.D. Character, President. |
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14 Dec 02 - 03:28 PM (#847429) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Rapparee "No! Leave it there!" shouted Elf-Dude. "It'll make a good addition!" He looked up. "Yo! Santa! Lower that cable, man!" And a three-quarter inch steel cable, a large hook on the end, thudded to the top of the debris pile. Having missed Elf-Dude by only a fraction of a micrometer, he pulled is belt away from his body and sniffed inside his pants. "Thank goodness! Still clean inside! Thought for a minute there...." He took the hook and hooked it (what else could he do with it?) to the underside of the trapdoor to the Whine Cellar and stood up and tall to his full height of point six eight meters. "Yo! Fat Boy! Pull 'er taut!" he shouted again, and the cable snapped tight, humming slightly. Elf-Dude scrambled again to the top of debris and asked the sea of upturned faces, "That's done! Now...which one of you cats are gonna be the first to play the world's biggest gutbucket fiddle?" |
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14 Dec 02 - 05:18 PM (#847465) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: My guru always said Smoking, dusty & slightly sing-ed the Stray falls off the mantelpiece & meanders back to the safety of the tree. 'Camo, y'oull bugger, come and give us a bit of a bed-bath... things are hotting up out there & some 'as got their weapons out. Be quick, must look our best in case of journalists....' 'Ooooh, loads more pressies under here, whch one shall we rip to bits first?' |
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14 Dec 02 - 08:15 PM (#847535) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: SINSULL "Holy crap!" He killed the baby bod!" SINSULL carefully removes the spike from the impailed mini-drum and gently takes the little tike down. "What a waste...but maybe MMario can do something with it. A little duct tape and we can use him to hold the possum dip." "Some Christmas party. Wonder how many more will die tonight." She goes off to the kitchen singing "And we say so; and we hope so. Poor Old Horse..." "Hey MMMMM. Here's a little livestock to add to your larder. Have you got a strong rope handy?" And she hums "Poor Dead Horse..." |
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14 Dec 02 - 08:24 PM (#847537) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: mg And then comes in the Welsh Rugby Team with a huge yule log they liberated from somewhere. Some are adorned in blinking electric lights and naturally they are singing Deck the Halls in what we can only assume is Welsh. |
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14 Dec 02 - 09:09 PM (#847548) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dave Wynn A small spotty dog lurks outside (he really must get some oxy10 or hydro-cortizone for those spots). Shivering with the cold and hoping some kind insider will open the door to let him creep close to the fire and warm his old bones (he hates bones a la rare). Casually flicking an errant flea from behind his left ear he settles down on the sidewalk , his limpid sad eyes gazing with hope at the dark oaken door. The red to orange glow of the warmth inside kindling just enough spirit in his failing body to wait , wait , wait for the heaven of possibilities that lie beyond that dark frame. Stuggling now to raise his rhuematic back legs to clear his small body from the deathlike cold of the floor , he farts , glances with suprise at his rear and thinks "bloody sprouts". |
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14 Dec 02 - 10:00 PM (#847575) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse Oh ho! A new bodhran skin. "Come in little doggie and see what the nice sailor has got for you" From the faithfull sou'wester an iron-on Guinness Transfer is produced. "Anybody got a steam iron" Steam does have its uses, after all, he muses. But still he hankers after the days of sail. Softly humming a few verses from *Donkey Riding* he sharpens his skinning knife. If I'm not voted off this Big Brother house soon, mayhem will ensue. |
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14 Dec 02 - 10:06 PM (#847577) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: mg small spotty dog does make it to the warming fire, where someone gives him a plate of stew and a dish of water. All the other animals have eaten, and surround him in a semicircle. All at once they fall to their knees..even small spotty dog with rheumatiz. It doesn't hurt a bit. The lusty ladies quit their flirtatious behavior, the spirts of present and future are transformed from hags into dignified mature but beautiful female apparitions and the rugby team stops singing one of their songs that makes even the l.l. blush and spontaneously starts to sing the Christmas Rose as only they from the Rhanda?? Valley can sing. The little urchins take the melody and the rugby men do the descant. The Morris team play their tamborines quite vigorously. mg |
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15 Dec 02 - 12:26 AM (#847622) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Sorcha An the pore fiddler is plum wore out. Turnin' violet colored here, I is. Did the 6 hr session Xmas party today, so sorry, no more tunes tonight. Sleep tight all you cats and rats and elephants......eat some figgy pudding and go to sleep. That leather mouse sure is holding up well. |
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15 Dec 02 - 06:07 AM (#847691) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Catherine Jayne In through the saloon door swaggers someone unknown to most but as soon as they begin to preach on the dangers of smoking, the bar almost full of cigarette and cigar smoking 'catters, realise it is the Guest known as 'Smoking Yuk'.......... |
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15 Dec 02 - 07:04 AM (#847707) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Bee-dubya-ell As Smoking Yuk's anti-tobacco rant reaches a fever pitch, Elf-Dude unhooks the huge hook from the whine cellar door, hooks it through a belt loop of Smoking Yuk's bluejeans, gives Santa Cruz the "lift-er-up" signal and he/she is depositted into a snowbank on the rooftop. In total outrage, he/she screams, "I'll get that sonofabitch BWL for doing this to me! I'll send him a PM that'll scorch his eyeballs!". Then, he/she realizes that to do so would be to reveal his/her true Mudcat identity, so he/she is just going to have to suffer the outrage in silence. Ah....the unsuspected perils of anonymity! |
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15 Dec 02 - 09:03 AM (#847725) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse It's not my fault, I had a bad experience during my formative years, when the saddle came off my three-wheel bike and I didn't notice until after I had leapt aboard with the usual *High Ho Silver* cry. More High than Ho, I can tell you. Where was we all, ah yes, list'nin' to some Welsh lot from the Randa valley. I thought all rugby players were from Randy Land? Most Welsh folk, too. Reminds me of Madam Gashee, bless her heart. She knew how to treat a shellback to a good time, before he woke on a three skys'l yarder bound round the Isle Of Wight. In a gale. In December. With a hangover. AND a dose of the old water-works flu. Without his trousers. And no bottle. And........(Dear reader, he goes on a bit, don't he?) |
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15 Dec 02 - 09:48 AM (#847752) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: artbrooks The scruffy little guy looks up from the chimney corner, where he has been sitting cross-legged for the last several hours addressing holiday cards and, using his exquisitely painted Malachy Kearns tunable bodhran as a desk, composing his annual newsletter. "Well, that's finally done," he says, straightening up with a groan. Walking over to the copy machine at the end of the bar, he stares for a moment at the weary fiddler and the dead hamster who are doing something together on top of the machine that MUST be illegal in Wyoming. Asking them politely to move over, he selects a subdued chartreuse paper and prints off 200 copys. "The hell with 'Spaw and his opinion of newsletters," he mutters under his breath. The dead hamster looks up from where he is gently nibbling on the fiddler's...ear... and asks him if he wishes to join in. "Nah, thanks anyway, but I gotta go mail these" and he goes out the pub's front door and strides off into the cold,snowy morning. |
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15 Dec 02 - 01:38 PM (#847833) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse At last, her indoors enters, and is looking to dance. Her feet are twitchin' and she's scanning the crowd for suitable musicians. "O.K. Who's got a banjo?" she calls. "Start tuning up while I get me taps on" |
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15 Dec 02 - 02:09 PM (#847844) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Bee-dubya-ell (Flash forward to December, 20, 2002. Approximately 200 friends and relatives of the scruffy little man in the corner receive copies of his Christmas newsletter. Not a single one of them has any inkling why it is written in 6/8 time signature.) |
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15 Dec 02 - 02:31 PM (#847856) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Morticia Pssssst, Elf-dude, fancy a good.....erm, reasonably okay time then,dearie?Always wanted to be on matey terms with Santa....might mean I can by-pass that 'been good all year' crap. |
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15 Dec 02 - 05:25 PM (#847929) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Cluin A scruffy looking character shows up at the bar, grinning gap-toothed and scanning the room with his one good eye. He slides a leather gig-bag off his shoulder and lovingly draws out a beaten old Guild with a rude cartoon of a rampant unicorn in a state of amour drawn on the front in black marker "Barkeep! Would ye tap a bastard a pint of bitter whilst I innerduce some old-fashioned Christmas spirit inter the proceedin's?" "Here's a song my dear ol' nursemaid, Sandpaper Sally, used ter sing me when I was pickin' the lice outer her back hair ever' night..." (noodling on an Em7 suspended yoho chord, by way of an intro, whilst hawking and launching a particularly evil-looking loogie into the spitoon... 2 points!) "You're a bastard, Mister Grinch! I hate your fuck-ing guts! Without a moment's heh-zeetay-shun, I would kick you in the nuts, Mister Gri-i-I-INCH!" (hits a slow strum on the E demented chord in preparation for the too-long recitation) "Now after a lifetime o' watchin' you maltreat yer little dog Max, an' mislead poor little Cindy-Lou Who, year after year after year after year... I really must say... Your at-tit-tood SUCKS!" "Ah, ye gotter luv the classics, wha? Where's that pint, now?" |
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15 Dec 02 - 07:03 PM (#847971) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Gareth Rhondda, Mary, Rhondda - pro Ron thaa, and I can assure you that we were not singing :- "Oer yw'r gwr sy'n methu caru, Ffa la la la la, la la la la. Hen fynyddoedd annwyl Cymru," CLICK 'ERE for "Nos Galen" Howerever it does you credit that you did not recognise the words of the naughty song we were singing - "Now all together butties, and remember, there is Ladies present." And the Aberflyhalf RFC turn round, leave the inflatable sheep unmolested, and in perfect harmony and descant :- " Oh there is a Tavern on the Net, On the Net, Where the Mudcatters met, Oh they met, With Wine and Beer and Auroch roasts come free, And never touch reality, reality. Oh do not let this Log off grieve you, For you know we'll never leave you, But the Best of Butties have to part, to part, Adieu, again Adieu, Adieu, Adieu, Adiue, We can no longer stay with you, We'll hang our harp on the old Rowan Tree, And may the the world go well with theee " The inflatable sheep, uses this diversion to scuttle away, honour intact. "Arrrgh! not fast enought!!, the Dead Horse Morris from darkest Kent are waiting, Welly Boots at the ready. Gareth |
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15 Dec 02 - 07:43 PM (#847991) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Liz the Squeak Hmmm French Tickler gumboots.... didn't think you could get those outside of Wales..... LTS |
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16 Dec 02 - 12:12 AM (#848092) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: GUEST,JennyO The 200th guest wanders in with a fresh brace of bodhrans on her back and sits down at the bar. "Did I miss the roasted aurochs?" she sighed. "Oh well, better late than never! Make mine one of those guinesses with the foam on the top and a dash of chocolate." |
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16 Dec 02 - 01:04 AM (#848102) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: mg Hold the chocolate for a second. There is a bountiful bevy of young Swedish maidens with white dresses and candles in their blond hair singing Santa Lucia. They are bringing with them pails and pails of lutefisk. And it does not go with chocolate. mg |
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16 Dec 02 - 01:47 AM (#848112) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Cluin Scruffington lowers his now-empty tankard with a prolonged "Aaaaaaah!" and wipes his whiskers clear. Then he lifts the mug again, this time to his bad eye, which examines it suspiciously. "Hmmmm.... raku, eh? Well, that bastard won't hold up long. Now for that other matter..." He heads over to the dark corner and peers down at its sole denizen. "Yore name Leej?" Receiving an unfriendly glare in response, he adds, "Well, I don't give no rodent's rectum meself, but I did meet pale-lookin' feller out on the trail with his dobro stuck in somethin' unmentionable. Ast me t'pass a message on to one Eb'neezer Leej, so he did. An' I'll take that raised eyebrow for a conf'mation of yore incognito, so t'speak. He said t'say that the deal's orf for now an' ye can carry on with yer prickish ways for another year at least. Says the talks broke down an' the spirits is out on strike since midnight. Says ye'd be happy with the news and that ye'd stand me a drink for passin' it on." "Or not. Worth a try tho'..." Scruffington turns and heads back out of the tavern, but stops by the tree. He fishes in the pocket of his gig bag and draws forth a sloppily soldered ornament made with old useless Kyser capoes with the springs broken or missing. He hangs it from the end of a branch, then continues on out of the tavern. |
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16 Dec 02 - 02:57 AM (#848125) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Liz the Squeak HA!! Rodent's Rectum... must remember that one.... Can someone get that chameleon off MMarios' hawiaian shirt, before he does himself a mischief? LTS |
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16 Dec 02 - 04:17 AM (#848142) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: My guru always said Spot the Dog was happily being fed the tenderest morsels left on the Velociraptor carcass. He & Camo pulled the wishbone while everyone in the bar crossed their fingers & with eyes tightly shut - made a wish.... 'This bone looks like it'll make someone a good tipper' declares the Stray. 'That old fellas been a long time posting his letters, bet he'd be able to get a good beat on his Rhan with this', and proceeded to clean the bone for action. The tree was almost completely decorated now, the rainbow cd's shimmering in the prismatic effect of so many raised glasses. Presents were piled high under the tree - who had put them there & who were they for? No-one knew, it was a secret.... |
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16 Dec 02 - 11:33 AM (#848191) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario *replenishes the aurochs platter AGAIN!* (hmmmm- runnning low - maybe I better toss those two cornish game hens on the grill.) |
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16 Dec 02 - 12:20 PM (#848218) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse Have you ever tried nailin' Blakeys into a pair of wellies? It don't do the waterproofin' any good, mate. AND ye canna creep up on the sheep any more. Still, the blacked up faces mean we stand a fair chance in the dark. I passed by the front door, I cried bye-bye on the bell. Someone opened the door, oh, ya yaie, my heart aches. I can see, and think about, the lit candle Whatever comes to pass, my heart aches. I knocked on your door, when it opened Oh, I see your mum cry, and you - in your coffin. "Ye gods, that sure is cheerfull music to waltz by" Having finished his Cajun classic, (I kid you, not) the old sea-dog hangs an inflateable song bird on the tree, saying "Blow that for a lark" and retires once more to the bar for a nice drop of grog - hold the water. His better half removes her taps and unzips the accordian bag, and brings forth...............a triangle. "Where was ye when I needed ya?" he shouts from the barstool. "In bed with a headache" she replies "and get me a Guinness while yer at it, ye old bastard" "Coming up, you smooth talkin' bitch. You want chocolate with that?" "No fancy cocktails fer me, you old scroat" As their love talk continues in the background, Morti slips into a back room with a huge grin. The huge grin being attached to a small elf. A couple of minutes later, Morti returns with a huge grin. This time it's her own, and she has an equally huge sack on her back. The elf is nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he has gone to a *better place* |
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16 Dec 02 - 01:52 PM (#848302) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Gareth Liz - You would be suprised how many Welsh (and Sheep) live down in darkest Kent !!! Gareth |
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16 Dec 02 - 02:11 PM (#848316) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Cluin North door swings open again to admit several errant gusts of snowflake-laden wind, followed by a frozen-looking dude in a Armani suit, carrying jumper cables. "Damned cheap battery!" He fails to notice the ice demon which slips into the Tavern behind him and leaps up to secret itself amongst the roof beams. Armani shuffles over to the bar, slapping his circulatory system back awake. "Bartender! A double shot of Scotch, please. Neat!" "Alright", says the barkeep, pouring and eyeing the fellow with his cables. "But don't you go startin' nuthin'..." |
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16 Dec 02 - 02:22 PM (#848324) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Morticia All together now.... " I saw Morti mugging Santa Claus" Sharing out the spoils feverishly so she can share the blame around too, (just in case, you understand),Morti makes a mistake or two in distribution...nothing serious you understand.Dead Horse looks delightful in that lace basque and secretly I suspect Jen has always wanted a set of Fart-alonga-Favourites cds. |
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16 Dec 02 - 02:30 PM (#848331) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Catherine Jayne lol!! Morti walks around distributing the contents of Santa's sack while demanding snogs underneath the mistletoe she is wearing on her headband......the men are queing up!!!!! Best get some good lip balm girl with all that snoggin!!!! Jen mugs Oakley for some sprouts so she can have a go with the Fart-along-a-Favourites CD......'spaw looks on turning green with envy! Dead Horse performs a mini fashion show in his new lace basque while Morti snogs Santa under the mistletoe. |
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16 Dec 02 - 02:31 PM (#848334) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Catherine Jayne Noreen walks in escorted by Lord Skipjack and a large bottle of Moet to celebrate her Birthday. |
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16 Dec 02 - 02:43 PM (#848338) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Rapparee Gathered around the festive centers (The Tree and The Bar, which should be the name of an old Christmas Carol or a Country-Western song but isn't), all the assembled 'Catters broke into a song to celebrate the dual birthdays of Noreen and Beethoven: "Oh, Freundlich...er, ah, hell, it's in bloody German, fer Chrissakes...oh, fergiddit..." A duo did play a rousing chorus of "Happy Birthday To You" on lute and piobrach, however, while Welsh Courgies howled along. |
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16 Dec 02 - 04:00 PM (#848355) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Rustic Rebel Hey! Who was that gorgeous hunk of man who left those golden kona bricks anyway? What am I seeing here? Am I going drunkingly insane? I am seeing before my eyes an apparition! The nearer it comes to me I see it is John Lennon with eight little people carrying ukuleles. John comes up to me and hands me a tamborine, takes my hand and heads for the stage. With all the little ukulele players and John we start his song: Happy Christmas (War Is Over) John Lennon and Yoko Ono And so this is Christmas and what have you done Another year over; a new one just begun And so this is Christmas, I hope you have fun The near and the dear one, the old and the young A Merry Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year Let's hope it's a good one without any fear So this is Christmas, for weak and for strong The rich and the poor one, the road is so long So Happy Christmas for black and for white The yellow and red one, and stop all the fight A Merry Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year Let's hope it's a good one without any fear So this is Christmas and what have we done Another year over, a new one just begun So Happy Christmas, I hope you have fun The near and the dear one, the old and the young A Merry Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year Let's hope it's a good one without any fear [Intstrumental] So this is Christmas and what have you done Another year over; a new one just begun And so Happy Christmas; we hope you have fun The near and the dear one, the old and the young A Merry Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year Let's hope it's a good one without any fear Is this a ghost of Christmas past, I wonder. I hand John the tamborine, and before they disappear, one little person who played the ukalele went over and set his ukalele under the tree, speaking low he said something about Tiny Tim, but I couldn't quite make out the words he spoke. John said one more thing to me before he left. He said,"you all should check out This site and listen to Yoko's version of 'Give Peace A Chance' , and maybe sign the petition. He turned and told everyone to 'Imagine', and they disappeared. Damn! That was fun. Hey barkeep could I please have another cuervo and lime. (a little coconut on the side) |
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16 Dec 02 - 04:24 PM (#848365) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Bee-dubya-ell Meanwhile.... The ice demon that had followed the Armani-suited displaced yuppie into the Tavern has been watching the proceedings and idly humming "The Acid Queen" from The Who's rock opera "Tommy". "Ah well," he mumbles to himself, "Enough of this spectatin' stuff. Let's start some mischief." He trains his reptilian eyes on the Guinness keg, nods his head, blinks, and a searing beam of unimaginable cold is emitted from his eyes. It slams into the Guinness keg with an audible sizzling sound and instantly freezes the contents solid. "All right!" he chuckles to himself, "No more Guinness! Tee hee! The last time a tavern full of folk musicians ran out of Guinness there was a riot that took a whole precinct-houseful of cops to break up. Let's just sit back and see what happens.....Ya know, that Gargoyle guy ain't shit up beside me!" |
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16 Dec 02 - 04:51 PM (#848380) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Cluin ...as the remaining members of SPEWED link hands around the Chritmas Tree and begin swaying and crooning: Mark and Harold are not gay, "They're just friends", their mothers say... |
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16 Dec 02 - 05:45 PM (#848421) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Liz the Squeak And someone, somewhere, breaks into 'Walking round in Womens' underwear'..... LTS |
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16 Dec 02 - 06:29 PM (#848447) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Rapparee ...and "Wreck Yer Balls On Fences, Golly!".... |
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16 Dec 02 - 06:37 PM (#848455) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Gareth Nevermind it will soon be the day of the Winter Solistice (SP) The Lads and Ladettes of Aberflyhalf RFC are looking for a suitable virgin sacrifice - No, the inflatable sheep will not do, any Ovine creature in the proximity of a Morris Group has thier honour besmirched, and the name, Dead Horse Morris, does not refer to thier hoodening. They open the temporal door onto the Isle of Sheppy . a pack of Corgi's departs with instructions to find a suitable candidate. They are frustrated, after all this is the Island of Sheep, and conveniently close to the old Navy Bases of Chatham and Sheerness, no luck, but the temporal door to Hul9 opens. Nipping at the heels the Corgi's drive Punch the Horse towards the door. There is a role of drums, whose hide shall enliven the Beltain celebrations ? With thier White Robes on will they be mistaken for residents of/from Alabama. Will the Chameleons become confused ? Will the beer see the night out ? Will the Aberflyhalf RFC Choir be sober enough to celebrate Beltain ? Will any catters convert them back to something approaching Christianity ? The Chorus continues in its drunken fashion :_ " Twas Xmas day in the work house, The Paupers had nothing to eat, - The rest of this is censored as this is a familly Chat room !!!! Punch the Horse spots the Morris Men, remembers what happened at the Chimney Boy at Faversham, and immediatly places its rear quarters against the wall. The Christmas tree has seen it all over the years and smiles. Garth Gareth |
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16 Dec 02 - 06:51 PM (#848462) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: JenEllen Fart-alonga-Favourites on CD? Oh, Morti, how ever did you know? I suspect (and I'm hardly ever wrong about these things) that with the fuel at the buffet, and the various rip-snorters and tight-assed #$%@ers around here, we could cover a few octaves on our own. Mudcat Fartenackle Choir auditions to be held at the furthest corner from the fireplace. B.Y.O.C. (bring yer own clothespin---an' it does give a new meaning to "smoke 'em if ya got 'em", don't it?) |
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16 Dec 02 - 07:55 PM (#848502) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: artbrooks The Fartenackle Choir? HERE? The scruffy little guy hasn't heard such news in...hours. He goes off to his corner and opens his sack lunch...a beef and bean chimichanga with extra guacamole, green chile and jalapeno jack cheese on top and red onions and refried beens on the side. Asking the barkeep for a pint of porter to wash it all down with (and as a primer), he settles down to get himself...stoked up. |
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16 Dec 02 - 08:15 PM (#848522) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse Fartanackle Choir! Is nothin' sacred, you bunch of ....(can't think of the word....it'll come........ |
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16 Dec 02 - 08:29 PM (#848528) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse ..........like Vandals.....not Visi Goths.... Shit. Forget it. If you think I look good in a basque, you should see me in my little black dress I wear as Molly for the Hood'nin' (I kid you, not) Thanks Morti, at last I have something in my size that i can wear underneath. Saves the old bum from freezin'. Talkin' of old bums, what has Gareth been up to with the K.K.K? Bein' an effnik minority he should mind his ass when out with that lot, or he might find his Hob Y Derries danglin' from an old oak tree! (and serve him right, too, Castin' haspershuns on us simple Kentish chaps) |
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16 Dec 02 - 10:49 PM (#848589) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: GUEST,JennyO Oh goodie, I haven't missed out on the roasted aurochs after all. (stuffs herself). Nice doggie , here boy. Just bring that bone over here. I could do with another tipper for all my bodhrans! But what's this they've done to the Guiness?(shivers) |
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16 Dec 02 - 10:59 PM (#848599) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Amos Holy Moly -- Songs from the Sacred Digestive Tracts, backed by Airs To Pass On Yule -- mount your capos, gentlemen -- it's in B Flatulent, take your note from Mister Spaw over there, lately the honored recipient of his own Bud Light commercial!! Farternakle, indeed!! Good thing I had my cup away from my lip or Jen would be getting a bill for a new keyboard!! A |
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16 Dec 02 - 11:28 PM (#848619) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Rustic Rebel Fart what? "Fart suppository, yes that is what I said. You see this is one of my latest inventions. I fill the capsule with favorite scents. Then when your mate is sleeping and expelling, you slide that little baby up his ass, and ah, the body temperature diffuses a delightful odour. hell yeah, these things will sell like hotcakes. Now if I only had some with me in this joint I could show you what I mean... |
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16 Dec 02 - 11:35 PM (#848621) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Cluin The guy in the expensive business suit tosses back his drink, feeling it warm his chilled bones, and gestures for the barkeep to hit him again. Then he hears a tiny voice to his right: "Wow! That's a really nice suit. You have great taste!" Armani looks to his right but nobody is there. He turns back to the festivities going on in the room. Someone has hiked down their trousers and is defecating in the much-abused spitoon. Must be clearing his throat in preparation... "I mean, seriously, that is one killer suit. And you fill it out pretty damn well, too, mister." Same little voice again. Sounds like it's maybe coming from behind the bar. The guy leans over and peers behind, but nobody's there either. You smell pretty good too, buddy. What do you guys think? "Oh yeah!" "Damn straight!" "I think I'm in love" Armani jumps back when he realizes the voices are issuing from the dish of beer nuts by his right elbow. And the barkeep finally arrives with the bottle to replenish his glass. "What the hell's with those beer nuts?" demands the suit. Barkeep shrugs. "They're complimentary." |
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17 Dec 02 - 12:01 AM (#848637) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: GUEST Haulling himself out of the booth and pulling on the surplus asbestos silver fire suit, Chip2447/OG1 heads for the frozen kegs. "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN and the rest y'all too. WE HAVE A TEENY TINY WEE SMALL PROBLEM. SOME PISSY LITTLE WANNABE TRIED TO SABOTAGE THE GUNNIESS. I THINK I CAN TAKE CARE OF HIS LITTLE GAME. WHAT WE NEED ONE GOOD FART FROM EVERYONE. ONE GOOD FART AND DUCK FROM EVERYONE, INCLUDING THE DUCK AND THE CATS, ESPECIALLY THE CATS!" PLEASE PASS THE GAS AND HIT THE FLOOR, IT'LL ALL BE OVER IN A SECOND. THANKS." Pulling the Scott mask on, and lowering the hemet, he ignites the oxy acetelyn torch. He holds the flaming tip high in the air, (better air up here, would hate to have a premature eja...explosion), he carefully approaches the hostile kegs. One quick glance around shows him that most everyone has complied, bodies are pointing their arses at him, a few bare azzed moons, must be to get the best gass mix, he thought. A few scrambling for the floor and a few more for the doors. "GAWD I hope this works." He says as he lowers the cutting torch into the dense methane. With a loud WHOOMMMMPFFFFFFF of displaced air the Tavern for one brief fraction of a second turns into a conflaguration of hell. The hole in the ceiling venting most of the heat and fire outward. Reports later indicated that the fire ball and mushroom cloud could be see fo hundreds of miles. The flashover was gone before most of the drunkards knew what hit em. He felt particularly sorry for those who had dropped their drawers, as the fire probably singed off all the hair on their asses. He emerged from the smoke with a big cheesy grin on his face. "TOLD YA IT WOULD WORK... BEER's flowing again...." Now where was that monkey, he thought he could teach the lil bugger to play ocarina.... |
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17 Dec 02 - 12:05 AM (#848638) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: GUEST,chip2447 Now where did I leave that plate of cookies???? Chip2447 |
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17 Dec 02 - 12:12 AM (#848642) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Cluin "Fuck this noise!" says the suit and clambers up and sprints out the door to the relative safety of the blizzard outside. |
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17 Dec 02 - 12:44 AM (#848661) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: mg Cindy Lou Who..haven't thought of her in years. Must be all grown up now. Is there a chance that she'll stop by? |
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17 Dec 02 - 12:50 AM (#848663) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Cluin "Philistines!" The sound drifts back into the Tavern on the wind, just before the north door bangs shut again. "That's it!" shouts Dead Horse, pounding the table. "Thank gawd he's gone," mumbles the barkeep. "If he'd-a roped me into one more bad joke, I'd-a gnawed my own foot off to get outta here." |
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17 Dec 02 - 12:58 AM (#848667) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Bee-dubya-ell The rafter on which the ice demon was perched happened to be directly in the path of the outgoing rush of fire as it escaped through the hole in the roof. The intense heat melted the ice demon and he dripped down off of the rafter onto the table below where he was immediately absorbed by a singed bearmat. ("Bearmat" being Hullspeak for what the rest of us know as a "beermat" or "coaster". "Singed" is Hullspeak for "signed", but in this case the bearmat was, in fact, singed. It may well have been signed too, but that's another story.) As soon as the entire essence of the ice demon had been absorbed into the bearmat, the demon regained full consciousness and his mutation into the dreaded BEARMAT DEMON was complete! |
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17 Dec 02 - 01:57 AM (#848690) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Chip2447 Anyone care for some bearmat demon beer nuts, or is that bare demon nuts, or maybe demon bear beer huts? Chipw447( still looking fo the bear necessities} |
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17 Dec 02 - 08:43 AM (#848813) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario Hey Look! There's a bunch of roasted beernuts over there on the singed bearmat! Just the thing to top off the king's cake I just finished frosting. But they do need to be crushed first... *grabs 15 pound sledge used as a bodhran deterrent and hefts it over his head* Stand back! There may be shrapnel! *He starts the downswing...maul heading straight for the singed bearmat and the roasted nuts.* |
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17 Dec 02 - 10:25 AM (#848906) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse While exposing my rear end (beneath fetching basque) in order to comply with certain requests, my nuts have been signed. Do hope it wasn't with an indelible felt tip! |
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17 Dec 02 - 10:32 AM (#848917) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario MUDCAT BABY DUE!Max and his lady... Drinks are on Bert! Hell - I'll even pay for some! |
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17 Dec 02 - 10:33 AM (#848919) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Tinker "See that man all dressed in black Nuts so hot he keeps'em in a sack.. Singing Nuts...Hot Nuts Anyone here wanna try my nuts...." Roots blues belted out by the lady in the lowcut gown as approaches the bar... NOw why did that song come out |
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17 Dec 02 - 12:06 PM (#848976) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dave Bryant Hearing the whistle of the descending maul the BEARMAT DEMON metamophoses from his flat larval state to it's fully developed state, and with lightning reflexes leaps out of the way of MMario's hammer, scattering nuts in all directions. This was somewhat of a pity because the one thing that a BEARMAT DEMON loves is nuts - the larger the better. Suddenly, right in front of his gaze, the demon is aware of two exceedingly large nuts dangling down from a lace basque. Besides several signatures in permanent felt-tip marker each dispays a branded-on message "Property of Kate - tamper with at your peril !". Such a temptation could not be ignored and opening it's mouth, it clamped it's fearsome teeth around the dangling cluster. |
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17 Dec 02 - 12:43 PM (#849010) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse Kerrrboooooooooooooooooooooom! (loud cries of "Arrgh, me nuts" and "Gerritoff") The figure of Dead Horse runs wildly round the room, exhibiting surprising speed and agility for one of his advanced years. "That's positively the last time I wear inflateable nuts to a Mudcat event" His other half, the delectable KAY, mutters something about dried kernels as she swiftly dons her dancing shoes, in readiness for the celebrations. "Now where's that damn banjo player" she calls, "If'n ye can't find a banjo, stick a few strings accross a bodhran, a git pluckin'" |
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17 Dec 02 - 01:51 PM (#849056) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Rapparee And Mario, after laying down the sledge, was reciting as he prepared the trout, "...though I've battered you and fried you, by the living roe that made you, you're a better taste than auroch, almondine...." "I say, do you like Kipling?" asked the quiet man to Liz. She giggled and replied, "I don't know, I've never kipled." |
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17 Dec 02 - 04:41 PM (#849159) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario well - the perils of the daemon bearmat (Scourge of Hul9l) will not be with us long - I have it on good authority it will vanish from the ken AND Barbie of He points at a large digital clock behind the bar, right below the slightly ratty stuffed moosehead from which a potato stuffed thong depends. The sign reads: " 8 hours - 24 minutes 32 seconds until Singed Bearmat Auction closes" Just below that is another sign - "Place your bets on how long until the entire Tavern needs to be Baby-proofed!" |
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17 Dec 02 - 05:12 PM (#849179) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Amos Can't we just keep it in the closet until it is thirteen? A |
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17 Dec 02 - 05:26 PM (#849187) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: SINSULL DH - that's what happens when you skewer one of god's little creatures. Say you're sorry for killing the baby bod' and the demon will fall off. So will your nuts but ... Hey MMario. Come collect some prairie oysters for the pot! |
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17 Dec 02 - 05:26 PM (#849188) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Cluin You really want it coming out of the closet at 13? |
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17 Dec 02 - 05:48 PM (#849206) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Liz the Squeak So... that's what Kipling does to you... now I know I shan't be doing it again.... it's going to take ages for that to grow back.... LTS |
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17 Dec 02 - 07:39 PM (#849296) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse Doesn't having your nuts explode make you baby proof? And I hate to have to fess up, but I got a virus. It seems I got a dose of the dreaded Viagra Bug, which turns all your floppies into hardware. Nothin' ta do with the critter on me nuts, or the Morti snogs, etc. Musta gorrit off'n an e-mail, honest. When is some bastard gonna fix the hole in the roof? I washed me hair three times already, thinkin' it was dandruff, when all the time it was snow. As for baby bods, the divil tak 'em. Aint no good for nothin' but imitation tanbourines, you know, them things ye get in yer stockin' at Xmas. (or is that Clementines?) Oh, me darlin' Oh me darlin' Oh me darlin' Clementine Thou art pissed and under the weather, End up drinkin' turpentine. |
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17 Dec 02 - 07:56 PM (#849308) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Liz the Squeak It's enough to drive a woman to drink.... where's the rest of that feckin' Baileys.....? LTS |
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17 Dec 02 - 08:04 PM (#849311) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: SINSULL MMario...King's Cake??? Isn't that the one with the BABY in it???? Like the BABY Max is having????? Named Taj Lightening???? (No joke, folks).Or maybe it's Lightnin'. |
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17 Dec 02 - 09:27 PM (#849354) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario nope - King's cake has a BEAN in it; which represents the Christ Child (or the Sun King in an older tradition I'm told ) Sinsull - I take it your money is on a boy? |
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17 Dec 02 - 10:01 PM (#849369) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Noreen Herewith a LARGE bottle of Baileys to refill the cats' saucer ...and Liz's oversized tankard... |
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17 Dec 02 - 10:06 PM (#849373) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario The roof will fix itself if we reboot the Tavern - we got it from Microsloth Roof and Windows. |
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18 Dec 02 - 04:12 AM (#849470) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Roger the Skiffler The sleeper awakes and belches Metaxas fumes dangerously near to the Xmas tree lights. "Dead Horse is a damn fine triangle player an' that Kay can certainly clog 'em good, let's find my kazoo and clean the cat sh*t off the washboard an' give 'em "Jitterbug Swing". C'm on you women, an' do the jitterbug swing... UMPPH" A timely application of mince pie mercifully cuts short the caterwauling that has the cats climbing the Xmas tree in terror and was in danger of curdling the Baileys. RtS |
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18 Dec 02 - 05:59 AM (#849505) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Chip2447 WHOA!!!! That was kinda cool. I wonder if we can market that shit, hell who needs Middle Eastern oil. On second thought, the environmental impact statement would ruin us. Ralph would love us..."Unsafe at any tavern....Mudcatters" Party on folks, it wont be long until some Politally Correct Wannabee decides that we are the next threat to humanity, cause what we've eyewitnessed here was a weapon of Mass destruction if ever there were one. "They're coming to take me away haha...." Got any of those devilled eggs and the nasty cheap beer left? Never know when we are gonna need another one of those demon fighting flatuence attacks. I'll just wander back to me corner booth, give a shout if'm ya need me. Chip2...24.....24...24kinmuch to drinkkk |
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18 Dec 02 - 06:06 AM (#849506) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dave Bryant The door which previously led to Hull9 swings open, and it is apparent that the hyperspace link has realigned itself. Visible now is the Cutty Sark complete with a crowd of maritime heritage lovers who are lamenting over it's state. Two suited gentleman walk in, each carrying a briefcase and large clipboard. "This doesn't look like the inside of "The Cricketers", says one. "No it must be some other pub", says the other, "Still the Cricketers has got a PEL now - what about this place". The two of them walk over to the bar where they enquire the name of the establishment. "Mudcat Tavern ?" queries one them, searching through a little black book, "No they don't have a PEL". MMario tries to diffuse the situation by offering them a plate of hot auroch, they both smell it suspiciously and one of them produces a plastic bag into which puts a sample, "Wait till the Health and Hygene boys analyse that he says". The other man from the council has noticed the bearmat demon which is growling menacingly from under a table, "They've even got vermin running around - tch-tch-tcch". "Yes agrees the other, "But look at all this live performance without a PEL - Greenwich council will make a packet out of this". Dead Horse pushes to the front "What entertainment ?" he asks. "God, they've even got female impersonators" says the first inspector, "And Sheep", says the other, "Perhaps we should pull in the RSPCA - that sheep looks copmpletely shagged". |
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18 Dec 02 - 07:31 AM (#849529) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse (What's that about Lizzies oversized tankard? Surely a tankard can only be oversized if you can't lift it!!!) "There's still some shaggin' left in that sheep yet, so it aint completely useless, unlike my inflateable nuts. The valve blew off, you know. I've been Bobbitted. And the best years of my life afore me. I'll have to get an im-plant. How about a carrot? Or, better yet, a parsnip?" His missus stops dancing long enough to fix him with a withering glare "That'll be a turnup fer the book, might consider goin' vegetarian" |
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18 Dec 02 - 07:59 AM (#849540) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dave Bryant More likely "A turnip for the book" ! |
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18 Dec 02 - 08:11 AM (#849543) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Rapparee "Care for a drink?" the quiet one asks the PEL inspectors. "Good 'un," one replied, pouring the liquor from the quaintly shaped vessel into another plastic bag. "Wait, have to get it all," he said, putting his finger inside to wipe it out. "ARGH! Percy! Help me!" screamed the first, as he found himself being sucked into the Klein bottle, first by the finger and then more quickly. Looking up from looking up the basque, Percy seized his co-worker's foot, only to be sucked in along with him. Close examination of the interior of the bottle was a ghastly experience, but the light sparkled off of it in crystaline rainbows. The quiet one walked over and hung it on the tree. "Klein bottles," he said. "Three dimensional object with only one side. Great topology. Just gotta love 'em. Bartender, how about a Talisker? A big one." He pulled out his spoons, and, being considerate, broke into a silent rendition of a medley of stuff from Twisted Sister. He thought the group appropriate. |
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18 Dec 02 - 08:14 AM (#849545) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: My guru always said SPLAT - and the Catters surrounding the tree were glooped with fresh Baileys. Both Cats had belly-flopped in perfect harmony from the top of the tree into the waiting bowl below. Landing on all paws they survey the shambolic scene and decide on who to clean up first. 'Hope someone tells MMario not to pluck the Small Bird of Prey when it finally turns up - it's a hunter, not the hunted'! The ethereal Druidess prepares a manger in readiness for the 'Babe-to-Be' & the RFC members & Morris sides start taking bets on the sex of the awaited MudKitten. |
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18 Dec 02 - 10:35 AM (#849610) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dave Bryant The UK door opened again and a bearded Ozzie with glasses and three legs carrying a digereedoo, woggle-board and artist's easel. "G'day" he says "yer don't mind if I pop back to Oz for Christmas by this short cut - saves on the air fares". "Jeezus-Bloody-Christ - that sheep looks as though it's got a few more left in it - I mean as though it needs the animal hospital - I'll see it gets the treatment it needs". He slings the sheep over his shoulder and disappears out of the Southern Hemisphere door, whistling "Tie me Kangaroo down Sport". |
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18 Dec 02 - 11:09 AM (#849645) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: GUEST,CHICKS WITH STICKS Hi were lookin for men with brooms! |
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18 Dec 02 - 12:42 PM (#849690) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Cluin And before the South Hemisphere door shuts completely, a tiny termite scoots in. It makes the trek across to the bar and climbs behind the brass rail, up the face and around onto the top. Summoning all his miniscule breath, he squeaks out at the top of his little lungs: "Excuse me, is the bar tender here?" "Balls!" growls the barkeep. "Not another bloody one." *SWAT!**smear* |
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18 Dec 02 - 02:14 PM (#849729) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse So the bartender passed the smear test! As the odour of burning melodeon passed into the night, accompanied by several DH Morrismen, all singing *Shag a Wallaby* at the end of every verse of The Aussie Bestial Bondage Song, Dh himself noticed that the sheep was missing. "Bloody hell!" he moaned, "Now I'll have to screw the cats. Which one first? The tabby or the mangey one?" Having decided, he slopes off into a corner, where he rogers the old tom, all the while singing "Away in a mangier, no broom for a chick. The dirty old pirate is dipping his wick" |
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18 Dec 02 - 04:09 PM (#849795) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: My guru always said Shades of Dr Busker methinks.... |
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18 Dec 02 - 04:44 PM (#849816) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario checking the first aid kit to discover the bodhran anti-venom is outdated!!!!! Can't have that! One good bite from one of them baby 'rhans and someone could permanently lose their sense of rythym! |
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18 Dec 02 - 05:42 PM (#849854) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Noreen The cellar door (which apparently leads to Pontefract) squeaks open and a yellow duck waddles into the tavern, splashes through the Baileys puddles and in a manner not totally dissimilar to the erstwhile baby bodhran, leaps onto the bar, and enquires of the tender bartender: "Got any bread?" |
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18 Dec 02 - 05:44 PM (#849858) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Cluin Oh oh... |
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18 Dec 02 - 05:48 PM (#849863) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Cluin A voice shouts out from the opened north-eastern door: "Barkeep! Catch!" And a small box of 1 1/2" Ardox nails comes flying in. Which the barkeep intercepts nimbly from the air. "What are these for?" he inquires. "Hang on to `em. You'll see..." |
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18 Dec 02 - 06:47 PM (#849921) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Gareth Them termites is sneaky, as the sacrificial termite Kamikazies to the bar, the Veld door is besieged, and a troup make a line to the Christmas tree ( they have a hankering for resin flavoured wood ) - Oooops - bad call - the Chameleons think it is Christmas, tounges flashing they eat thier fill. The deflated inflatable Sheep re-enters, flacid, she is looking for someone, or thing, to give her a blow job. Gareth |
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18 Dec 02 - 08:02 PM (#849977) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Noreen Nasty Cluin.... |
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18 Dec 02 - 09:01 PM (#850015) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Noreen Not in the least distracted by crunching chameleons, flying nails or the nimble, tender bartender, Bailey-footed duck repeats: "Got'ny bread?" |
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18 Dec 02 - 10:16 PM (#850035) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Yorkshire Tony For crying out loud - I am not mangey - I am a tortoiseshell cat and all tortoiseshell cats are FEMALE!! (Although in my case not as noticeably as I once was before a trip to the vet). Now you come near me with that and I'll show you that although old my claws are still sharp. OK, you asked for it - rip, hack, slash. Camo returns to her Baileys with her tail proclaiming her victory, while a passer-by turns to the sea dog and says "I didn't know you were jewish". |
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18 Dec 02 - 11:57 PM (#850078) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Cluin Barkeep replies, while putting away the box of nails under the bar, "I just serve drinks. No I don't have any bread. Go ask MMario." |
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19 Dec 02 - 12:19 AM (#850088) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: mg Swedish maidens despair of humans eating the lutefisk so they are prancing all around the bar saying here kitty kitty.. mg |
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19 Dec 02 - 01:00 AM (#850097) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Yorkshire Tony Tony and Camo wander after the Swedish maidens - although for slightly different reasons. If I have to eat lutefisk and drink aquavit to get a grope with something other than an inflatable sheep - well you only live once. I wonder if this place has a Sauna or if the Swedish maidens would settle for a bit of jelly wrestling instead. Hey MMario - have you got some mashed potato and bacon to go with this lutefisk? |
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19 Dec 02 - 02:10 AM (#850118) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Liz the Squeak Oh Dead Horse, if only you could see it properly.... It holds half a gallon and I've never been able to find anyone rich enough to fill it copmletely with Baileys..... but it has been filled with many another liquid in it's time...... but maybe here isn't the place for that. Hey big boy, come and fill me up with that wonderful creamy stuff.... if I can get the bloody cat out .... something seems to have frightened her. LTS |
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19 Dec 02 - 03:12 AM (#850155) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Stilly River Sage The tall Irish/Norwegian woman opens the door a crack and moves in from the cold. She quietly slips into the welcoming warmth of the room and walks toward a corner, until she notices the rocket-propelled darts, and moves toward the southern hemisphere door instead. It's warm there, and as she is wrapped in many layers of clothing, quickly gets too hot. She removes her woolen hat, outer Gortex parka, a down vest, and a flannel shirt, then steps out of her boots and flannel lined snow pants to reveal a jeans and a soft fuzzy sweater. "I thought I smelled some lutefisk, but there's also some boeuf here, I think," she says softly to herself. A quiet dyslexic, she sets her pile of discarded clothing against the wall and glances around to see if there was a monitor where she can catch up with the conversation before saying anything. Several tree ornaments rest quietly in her pocket until she's up to speed and is sure they will be welcome. She pulls a small jar of herring wine snacks out of the pocket of her parka and approaches the barkeep. She twists the jar open and places it on the bar. "A red beer, please" The bartender pulls out a can of tomato juice, pours two ounces into the bottom of the schooner, then fills it with beer on tap. "Thanks," she mumbles, and steps back to the wall to watch the crowd and smell the wonderful aroma of food cooking. She thinks maybe she should go schmooze with the cook for a few minutes, and find out just what all is cooking back there and out front. In the time it took her to decide to enter the building so MUCH had happened. . . |
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19 Dec 02 - 07:17 AM (#850213) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Rapparee Then he heard it, off in the distance at first, a muffled sort of sound which seemed all the world like a thud-thud, thud-thud, getting louder and louder and louder as it came closer and closer and closer. Just as it reached its crescendo, the northernwestern door was torn from its hinges and a balog stomped in, its meter-long tusks dripping black venom, its evil red eyes...no, wait, it was Amos, who'd gotten lost on his way to the men's room...chanting his mantra... FLOOD DICK! FLOOD DICK! FLOOD DICK! (sorry, I can't do the html well or this would get larger and larger) FLOOD DICK! FLOOD DICK! FLOOD DICK! |
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19 Dec 02 - 08:27 AM (#850286) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario In Unison the inhabitants of the bar rise up and throw things at the spammer. Sharp pointy things. Heavy blunt things. ERASERS! |
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19 Dec 02 - 08:39 AM (#850297) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dave Bryant Dead Horse looks cautiously round the room - there's no sign of Kay - and he doesn't get offers like that from ladies (let alone LTS) every day. He staggers over to her, "OK - GET EM OFF" he shouts seductively. He strikes what he thinks is a manly pose and removes the last tatters of the basque. It is only at this point that he realises what the ravages of the Bearmat Demon and Camo the tortoiseshell cat have done to him. He is quite unable to raise a stuttered monologue - let alone anything else. Liz takes one look and a high-pitched squeaking sound of incredible volume fills the room. All the animals rush out of their nearest doors, several patrons fall to the ground unconscious, and the Klein bottle hanging on the Christmas Tree explodes releasing the two PEL inspectors. "Christ" says one "What was it that Mr Howells said about the racket that one unamplified performer can make ? - we better get the environmental people down here as well". They rush out of the southern hemisphere door straight into a christmas convention of funnel-web spiders. |
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19 Dec 02 - 08:44 AM (#850300) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario Good thing too - they were out of their jurisdiction. Who wanted the mashed with bacon? ORDER UP! BTW folks - the dessert buffet is in the biliard room. |
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19 Dec 02 - 09:08 AM (#850315) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse Big Boy! Jeez. I ain't bin called that since I tried to sneak on a kids ride at Disney World. I got a tankard that holds 7.5pints (why aint there no fractions keys) and before that damn mangey cat with the kung-fu claws got at it, it had a lid. Hinged. Right! Where's that feline Rabbi? Come and see what ya can do with a gall-bladder, and save the National Health time & money. If it's got to go, then it might as well end up in a Yorkshire cat. Hope the stones choke the varmint. If Cheshire cats have smiles, what do Yorky cats have? Maybe their anal sphincters enlarge to a point where they completely vanish in a cloud of feline fart! Mustn't get too regionalist: I once knew a gal who gave a whole new meaning to Flamborough Head! |
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19 Dec 02 - 09:12 AM (#850318) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dave Bryant Liz, still laughing, turns to look at the plate which MMario is proffering. The plate seems to be getting hotter and MMario jumps back and drops it as sparks start arcing from the decorative gold rim. Up to that point no one had realised that the most powerful part of Liz's notorious laugh was in the Microwave part of the spectrum ! |
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19 Dec 02 - 09:21 AM (#850323) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario Cats on the rooftops, cats on the tiles! Cats with the clap, and the crabs and the piles! Cats with their butts all wreathed in smiles; As they revel in the joys of YEeeee-OUCH! How'd that thing get so hot! |
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19 Dec 02 - 09:29 AM (#850325) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Rustic Rebel a long haired, foul smelling, dirtier than dirt man dressed in a loin cloth and tool belt, equipt with hammer, walks into the tavern from the eastern door. Barkeep, please tend to my thirst with a Johney Walker Red and a Guiness shooter, for I have been walking the desert for fourty years when suddenly, my father from an alien ship beamed down and told me, "there is a little tavern to the west that has a hole in the roof and the rain is coming in." I have a hammer, but I have no nails. I'll just sit here and get wasted, if all else fails. |
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19 Dec 02 - 10:37 AM (#850365) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Noreen "Got'ny bread?" (Glad to see those nails have all been used to mend the roof- thanks for that, Rustic Rebel!) |
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19 Dec 02 - 10:43 AM (#850368) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario uh-oh don' let the rain, come down, uh-oh don' let the rain come down! uh-oh don' let the rain come down - the roof had a hole in it but it's all fixed... |
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19 Dec 02 - 10:55 AM (#850378) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Noreen Yellow duck licks the last of the Baileys from his webs, sniffs diparagingly (as only Pontefract ducks can) at the roast aurochs and singed mashed with bacon, and dodges a sly side-swipe form a not-very-interested tortoiseshell. "Got'ny bread?" |
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19 Dec 02 - 12:43 PM (#850465) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Cluin Suddenly there is a huge *THUD* on the roof, followed by a splintering/crashing sound and a new hole in the roof has been formed. Right over the bar and the hapless duck. Through the hole plummets (in a controlled way) a large purple bespectacled walrus, landing squarely on the duck, mashing it flat. "GOO GOO GOO JOOB!" roars the walrus, which heaves it self off the duck-stained, splintered remains of that section of the bar. It starts walrussing (what else would you call it?) towards the North door. |
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19 Dec 02 - 12:48 PM (#850472) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario ohmygawd. whatever shall we tell Geoff and Mrs. Duck? |
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19 Dec 02 - 01:02 PM (#850485) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Stilly River Sage
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19 Dec 02 - 01:44 PM (#850527) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse The walrus opens the door, and in march the Cerne Abbas Mummers. "In comes I,.................(looks furtively around, and heaves a sigh of relief - no PEL inspectors) but before we begin, I'm off to the bar, for a double of gin." "Not very traditional, but they've always done it" says DH, with a grin. "Chalk one up for the Long Men" Hearing this, Morti & Liz come over all hot 'n funny. "So why are you called Long Men?" they enquire, in unison. (Together, at once, simultaneously, with each other, at one and the same time, harmonised). |
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19 Dec 02 - 01:45 PM (#850529) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Gareth Herring Smacks ??? " Out of Yarmouth we were sailing ??" Gareth |
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19 Dec 02 - 03:16 PM (#850618) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Noreen QU...ACK! indignant ruffle of displaced feathers, bar splinters scattering "Got'ny ...bread?" |
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19 Dec 02 - 03:58 PM (#850642) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Bee-dubya-ell To which every person in the Tavern replies in unison: "No, you little shit! There's no frikkin' bread in the place! Now shuddup or we'll nail your little webbed feet to the Bar!" |
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19 Dec 02 - 04:07 PM (#850647) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Stilly River Sage "Tusk, tusk," said the tall blonde woman as the walrus jammed his girth through the doorway, cracking the load-bearing support opposite the hinges of the door. "I won't choose THAT doorway if there's an earthquake in here!" She walks over to the tree, past the cats, gently nudging chameleons out of the way with the tip of her shoe, and reaches down to gently dislodge one of the duck's knees from a large crack in what used to be the bar. "There you go, get along, little duckie." She pulls several objects out of her pocket, examines them closely, looks around the room, back at her hand, then carefully pulls out the perfect miniature representation of a lumber 2x4 on a small gold hook and places it in the tree. She bends over to the wet spot where the walrus passed close to the tree and picks up the discarded metal lid to the wine snack jar. This she props on the branch between two small twigs, near the 2x4. Next, she pulls some bread from her pocket and drops it gently on the duck's head. In the spirit of the season, she has cast bread upon the wattles.
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19 Dec 02 - 04:10 PM (#850649) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Noreen "Got'ny nails?" |
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19 Dec 02 - 04:36 PM (#850660) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario To the little duck's surprise - at least 2 cats, a lemming, three shrews and a saggy-assed tortoise display claws - abundant sharp claws. |
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19 Dec 02 - 04:55 PM (#850664) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Noreen A lemming???????? |
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19 Dec 02 - 04:57 PM (#850667) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Noreen Of course! There's always a lemming or two behind the bar, for the gin & tonics. |
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19 Dec 02 - 05:01 PM (#850669) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Catherine Jayne "Stoopid question, me duck, asking if we have any nails" says the bartender who is getting increasingly more pissed off with the ducks persistant questions asking for bread as he nails the ducks little webbed feet to the bar floor!!! "Na watch us get the 'duck liberation and duckish rights movement' protesting abart this......" Says the scruffy stranger in the corner. Micca seems to have been downing the ciders tonight and decides it's about time he gave us all a song. He stands on the chair and starts. At first he starts and almost everyone looks up because the song seems to be a serious one......then.......Micca turns it into a parody!!!!!......People give a sigh of relief just to know that he is not ill! The Tavern has celebrated Noreen's birthday and now it seems we have something else to celebrate. We all raise our glasses and toast Max on the impending new arrival to his household.....we keep the champagne on ice to wet the baby's head when it arrives....the new mudkitten..... |
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19 Dec 02 - 05:08 PM (#850672) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Liz the Squeak Hey ducky, was there something you wanted? LTS |
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19 Dec 02 - 05:22 PM (#850679) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Noreen mmmmf |
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19 Dec 02 - 05:50 PM (#850701) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Morticia no wonder there's fur in my gin and tonic.... |
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19 Dec 02 - 05:55 PM (#850709) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Liz the Squeak Damn... that's where the merkin went.... Unless lemons are supposed to squeak??? LTS |
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19 Dec 02 - 06:06 PM (#850715) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Noreen ....but .... the nails were all used to mend the hole in the roof!! mmmmmf |
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19 Dec 02 - 06:38 PM (#850735) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Yorkshire Tony Having tested the lutefisk, Camo pulls a disgusted face and returns to the Aurochs and Baileys. She will try most things once but now undestands why Norwegians only eat it once a year. Tony is still trying to attract a Swedish maiden by holding his nose and washing the lutfisk down with aquavit. He generously offers to share with Silly River Sage, then tries forcefeeding the stuff to the immobilised duck. Liz's merkin comes to rest behind the bar on a lemon where a short sighted lemming attempts to mate with it. What was it I read about lemon juice as a contraceptive? Is a whole lemon even more effective? |
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19 Dec 02 - 06:48 PM (#850744) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Rustic Rebel Yeah,if your getting it on with the lemon. I don't think you could cross-breed. If we could Tony would that make you a lemon pop? |
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19 Dec 02 - 06:56 PM (#850749) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario ACK! I was going to use them to garnish the glogg! |
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19 Dec 02 - 06:56 PM (#850750) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: SINSULL Aflac...Aflac!!! AFLACCCCCCC!!!!!!! And with this the duck dislodges the nails, files a workman's comp claim and returns to the bar asking... |
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19 Dec 02 - 07:05 PM (#850757) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Gareth The inflatable sheep, now fully errect after the , Ahem, Blow job bounces up to the bar :- " A pint of Olde Sheep Dip for myself, and 15 gallons of Brains S.A. for my butties in the Aberflyhalf RFC, oh yes and a sprinkling of of termites for my friend the duck, yes the one wot is imitating the hedgehog on the motorway. " Mmario points out that pressed duck is supposed to be a delicacy. "Only 15 gallons 'Ewe", exclaim the RFC, "We brought along the linesman and Moira the Rugby Groupy as well !". "OK then", bleats the inflatable Sheep, " make it 17 gallons, and be sure they are imperial measure not American !" The bar goes quiet, 17 imp' gallons, well thats 136 imperial pints, it takes a long time to pull, even in a virtual Tavern. "Now lads !", the sheep explains, "Lets have a good old South Welsh Song, and I'll bleat the time !!" And Moira, the Rugby Groupy {She likes men who play with odd shaped balls} leads off with that old classic (Moira)If I, Sir, was the marrying kind, (Omnes) And thank the Lord your not Ma'am ! (M)The type of man that I would wed, Would be a Mudcat poster ! (Omnes) For he'd log in, and he'd log out, And we would both log in together, We'd be alright in the middle of the night, Logging in together !!" This continues for several hundred more verses - No wonder they need 8 pints of S.A. a head to continue singing. Surprisingly the Morris men are silent, possibly contemplating the sheep surrounding the Brown Jug at Upchurch, and the Ship Ashore at Hollow Shore. And the fact that the Sea Wall at Hollow Shore don't allow the woolleybacks any roon to run away!!. Gareth |
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19 Dec 02 - 07:22 PM (#850767) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Cluin ... returns to the bar asking: "Where'd you get the nail?" "We already had some here," the barkeep shrugs. "There's one old bugger comes in here who insists on a real rusty nail in his Rusty Nail. I'd suggest you bugger off now and get a tetanus jab." |
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19 Dec 02 - 07:42 PM (#850791) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Noreen I've suffered enough for this, got to finish it..."Got'ny bread?" |
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19 Dec 02 - 07:45 PM (#850795) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Cluin Barkeep flips the duck a coin. "Hit the road!" |
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19 Dec 02 - 08:08 PM (#850814) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Noreen Is there a doctor in the house? Or the lovely Avocado Kween hersailf? There's a little anthropomorphic avian from the wilds of West licquorice-ridden Yorkshire who desires your presence, your madgestiness... |
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19 Dec 02 - 08:49 PM (#850834) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Cluin (Wow! You must be psychic) *SNAP* The barkeep smacks himself on the forehead. "Damn! What was I thinking? We have bread!" He hauls a loaf of sliced bread out from below, slaps it down on the bar and rips the bag open. "YES! Yes! Yes, we have bread! I got your fornicating bread, right here. C'mere, duck!" With that, he reaches out and grabs the stubborn duck and shoves its head under his armpit. One hand pulls the duck's legs aside and the other begins shoving handfuls of bread up the duck's ass. *stuff* *stuff* *stuff* "We got bread. Sure, we got lotsa bread. GREAT bread! Best bread in the world!" *stuff* *stuff* *stuff* "Here Ducky, have s'more. Oh yeah! Bread! Yummy yummy bread!" *stuff* *stuff* *stuff* "Atsagooooood Ducky. Take yer ##$%%^$$% bread. It's good for ya! Sure it is!" *stuff* *stuff* *stuff* "Hey MMario! Bring me an onion. And set the oven to 450!" |
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19 Dec 02 - 10:11 PM (#850878) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Stilly River Sage The Norwegian/Irish woman thanks Yorkshire Tony for the offer of lutefisk, declining, but adds "What I really want to eat is some lefse. Do you think that guy cooking could whip some up after they finish with the duck?" The commotion surrounding the duck grows louder with every handful of bread shoved into the bird. Sage shouts over the bar at MMario to ask if he has any boiled potatoes and can he make lefse? He seems distracted, pulling small frozen game hens from an institutional freezer behind the bar and tucking them into his pockets and under his armpits in an attempt to thaw them fast. The shouting continues, amid many shrieks of indignation at the treatment of the duck. "Well fuck a duck," Sage mutters to herself, and looks around for a way to get the cook's attention. A tipsy cat seated at the edge of the beautiful tree winks. Winks! Looking more closely at the animal, Sage sees that the cat is seated on the end of a long slim plank lying across the floor. Picking up one end and gently sliding the inebriated cat to the floor under the tree, she holds the board aloft and stretches it out to prod MMario in the shoulder. One of his game hens has escaped the pouch of his tunic and suddenly slipped to the floor, smashing a couple of toes as it bounces off of his left foot. The board reaches his shoulder just as he bends to retrieve the little bird, and receives a resounding "thunk!" on the head as he rises. Turning his sweaty gaze on the duo standing on the other side of the noisy bar, MMario finally understands that these two would like him to add potetlefse to his list of stuff to cook. "Okay, but put the *%&$##ing board down!" he hollers back. His voice is all but lost as the crowd roars. A wag approaches from behind the bar with an onion and hands it to Cluin. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," advises the overworked cook, but too late. Cluin cuts into the onion, releasing the eye-smarting scent, which promptly revives the duck, who with one mighty push blasts out the biggest wettest greenest wad of guano anyone in this room has ever seen emerge from one small bird. The cappucine monkey steps up to the duck, wraps his spindly arm around it's non-shoulders, and suggests they adjourn to the top of the tree. |
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20 Dec 02 - 03:00 AM (#850963) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Liz the Squeak a stuffed duck and a coffee flavoured monkey trying to hit on the Christmas tree fairy..... I have GOT to stop smoking other peoples' Baileys.... Hey, pusscat, shift over and let me have a go at those presents under the tree... mind the ducks arse though, I think it's still loaded.... I'm sure there's a package under here with my name on it... if it doesn't have chocolate in it, there will be tears (and possibly a few dismembered limbs) before bedtime. Cheer up chaps, after tomorrow the days start getting longer again. LTS |
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20 Dec 02 - 07:00 AM (#851029) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: GUEST,Big,tough, hairy RSPCA inspector Right then you lot...I am stopping this thread right now.Never in all my years have I seen such blatant abuse of our poor, helpless, dumb friends.Release that duck, I say, let go that shivering monkey,sober up those cats,put that lemming DOWN, madam,stop cooking up prehistoric creatures and for Gods Sake, will someone please retire that sheep? Disgraceful.......shouldn't be allowed in any supposedly humane forum, just you wait, you lot will up to your arses in writs in no time flat, I can tell you......don't deserve to be allowed a thread you don't......... muttering and cursing the RSPCA inspector trudges off to police the other threads and if possible, find out who killed Cock Robin. |
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20 Dec 02 - 07:20 AM (#851040) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: My guru always said The Stray watched while LTS rummaged through the large pile of pressies under the tree. Some were labelled but most of them weren't, so it looked like there was going to be a huge guessing game going on later. Most everyone knew each other anyway so most Catters would get something appropriate & others had hinted anyway. Both cats had had a good scratch at the wrapping paper earlier, boy was that Tortoishell a confusing Feline? The obvious presents were: A clever belt containing '007' tools for getting out of bondage An Acorn GPS handheld tracking system for use when lost Portable photo-copier A set of Jesses with little tinkly bells A Dictio9arey Bicycle repair kit for punctured nuts Fingerless gloves for fiddling with in the cold Fartanackle Choir CD (glowing gently) Small bag of red Leb Tin of Ducks Custard Powder Praire Oysters A coconut with a Lime & some Salt A set of extremely White Handkerchiefs Whoopie Cushion A Soft Bread Roll with an Orange A Large Block of Ice A bathtub of Sheep Dip It didn't take long for these presents to be chosen.... |
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20 Dec 02 - 08:07 AM (#851060) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dave Bryant Don't forget the 28lb box of Bailey's Chocolate Liqueurs - I wonder who's name's on that..... |
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20 Dec 02 - 08:18 AM (#851066) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Noreen
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20 Dec 02 - 09:48 AM (#851118) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario Who gets the complete set of Bronson's? |
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20 Dec 02 - 10:22 AM (#851139) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse I've already got a bicycle repair kit, thanks. I use the valve rubbers as condoms. And I see the prezzy I hid under the tree hasn't been found yet. I'm talking about the Max Boyce CDs which should drive those bloody rugby players barmy after a couple of hearings, and serves 'em right. Love the Dictio9arey, I wonder who in He9ll thats for? Back to the plot (Plot? Wot bloody plot?) The delectable (must look that up - wots lectable?) Kay, not having tripped the light fantastic for at least three minutes, is getting fidgety again, "O.K. You old bosun, (I think I heard right)git up and start singing South Australia in double quick time, I wanna be there by 6:30" "SouthAustraliaIwasbornHeaveawayHaulawaySouthAustraliaroundCapeHornandwe'reboundforSouthAustralia" (line breaks deleted to speed things up. Ed) The delectable Kay performs a double shuffle, three toe taps, two Cowboys, and a complete tribe of Indians before falling flat on her rump. "And let that be a lesson to you!" He says, breathlessly. |
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20 Dec 02 - 10:47 AM (#851147) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Catherine Jayne There happens to be 2, 5-string fiddles under the tree......One for catsPHiddle and One for Sorcha......WOW this has made their Christmas!!! |
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20 Dec 02 - 11:12 AM (#851158) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Bee-dubya-ell Just a quick refresher: When we last saw Punch the Horse he was somewhere on the plains of Australia, negotiating to have a trained boxing kangaroo open a large can of whip-arse on Oakley's rival, Winston Wellington-Jones. Now, back to the present.... The Southern Hemisphere door bursts open and in flies a noisy and very unusual looking four-seater airplane. Emblazoned on the fuselage is the legend "Punch the Horse World Tour 2003". What is so highly unusual about this particular airplane, also known as the "Puncheoplane", is that it is the world's only known hamster-powered flying machine. Each of its six propellers is attached to a shaft which serves as the axle for 500 hamster exercise wheels. (I can hear some readers performing quick mental calulations such as, "500 hamster wheels at a width of, say, three inches each would reguire a shaft 125 feet long! How can such a shaft possibly fit into a four-seater airplane?" Well, just remember that our normal perceptions about space, time and the amount of alcohol a human being can consume do not necessarilly apply in the Mudcat Tavern.) The cumulative power generated by 3000 hamsters running their little arses off , when multiplied by a sequence of gears, is just enough to keep the Puncheoplane aloft and moving forward at roughly 20 knots. To supply the extra power required for take-off, the hamsters' energy is stored using an ingenious system of rubberbands. The Puncheoplane somehow makes a three-point landing in the litterstrewn aisleway of the Tavern and taxis up to the bar. A pilot-side window is popped open and Captain DeanMeister pops his head out of the window and asks, "Got any hamster food?" |
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20 Dec 02 - 11:23 AM (#851160) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dave Bryant Noreen - are you really prepared to fight LTS (probably aided bt Bratling) for them ? |
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20 Dec 02 - 11:31 AM (#851163) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario Sorry - we don't serve Hamster here. Want some Aurochs? Velociraptor? Bread? |
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20 Dec 02 - 01:27 PM (#851225) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Stilly River Sage That lefse ready yet? |
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20 Dec 02 - 01:39 PM (#851229) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: GUEST,Guest, Cluin (from girlfriend's computer) I knew I shoulda used the onion whole.... |
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20 Dec 02 - 01:40 PM (#851230) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: mg lutefisk lutefisk lefse lefse will we beat Ballard you betcha you betcha they sang in simple harmony |
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20 Dec 02 - 01:43 PM (#851233) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario Did you want that made with wheat flour, rye or buckwheat? The wheat is on the right side of the counter, the rye on the left and the buckwheat is just coming off the griddle. Blini's next! |
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20 Dec 02 - 01:48 PM (#851239) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Stilly River Sage Potatoes, puleeease! Use a little unbleached white flour when you roll it out. . . |
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20 Dec 02 - 01:51 PM (#851243) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Rapparee Outside, there came a squeal of tires (tyres, on the English side) and a horrible, rending, crash and scream of tortured metal on asphalt (macadam on the English side). A man in a ragged, torn jacket and pants staggered in, screaming, "Run for your lives! My paint truck (paint lorry on the English side) just crashed and split open! There's a wave of reddish-purple paint flooding this way!" And he ran out the other door. Those near the windows looked out and saw it: a tidal wave, a veritable tsunami, of reddish-purple paint bearing down on the Tavern. "Oh, look!" said Noreen. "The wave of the fuschia!" |
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20 Dec 02 - 01:59 PM (#851255) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario well of COURSE! *sniff* think I don't know how to make lefse? - whodacookaroundhereanywho?makemthemselvestheydon'tlikethewayIdoitsotheycan |
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20 Dec 02 - 02:30 PM (#851288) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Stilly River Sage Sage peers around the darkend room, the purplish tinge on the ceiling a reflection of the outside neon light bouncing off of the sea of fuchia paint on the ground. She's looking for the pale glow of another low-sun-expsure-pastey-white Northwesterner. "Mary Garvey, do you remember your recipe for lefse? I think I have a box of cookbooks out in my pickup truck, but I hate to turn my socks purple by wading out to get one." Feathers drift down from near the top of the tree as the small monkey busily grooms the duck and tosses unattached feathers so they'll drift beyond the tree out to the floor. |
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20 Dec 02 - 02:46 PM (#851299) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Catherine Jayne Oh shit it looks like we've been marrooned! (reddish purple paint) |
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20 Dec 02 - 02:58 PM (#851303) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Micca Its Not paint!!! Its catsPHiddles infamous Blackberry vodka!!!!! |
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20 Dec 02 - 03:11 PM (#851309) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario STRAWS ALL AROUND! |
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20 Dec 02 - 03:49 PM (#851327) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: mg I'm Irish..eat my potatoes straight. OK sometimes with a little whiskey. No lefse recipe here. mg |
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20 Dec 02 - 04:18 PM (#851341) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: GUEST No one saw the convoy of white trucks/lorries bearing the logo of the NYCFTTS. Soon the place fills with the hit big bubrly men bearing straight jackets. A twist of lemming...ewwwww |
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20 Dec 02 - 04:23 PM (#851347) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario you prefer a wedgied lemming? |
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20 Dec 02 - 04:32 PM (#851351) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Cllr lemming outa here and I only just arrived |
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20 Dec 02 - 04:40 PM (#851358) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse "I'll get me wellies on and go outside" says DH. "I might be gone some time" (Dead Horse Wins Oaks - Newmarket Gazette) "No cracks about *Waders of the Purple Sage* while I'm gone" Mrs DH picks herself up off the floor, and slides seductively towards a six fingered yokel wearing a stupid grin and a coonskin hat. "Git ya banjo out, ya purty young hunk, an' gi' us a toon" |
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20 Dec 02 - 05:20 PM (#851379) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Liz the Squeak Oh Dave, what ever makes you think I'd fight my friends for chocolate... 28lbs divided by 3, makes 9lb each and one for Bratling... she's not supposed to eat too many... she's losing a front tooth. LTS |
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20 Dec 02 - 08:58 PM (#851502) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Tinker She shakes off the rain as she comes in through the Highland door... I knew if I came through the tavern I could replace the bottle Big Mick took home for the Missus... Looks like the bar could use one too. Hey bartender ! Straight from the Gordon.. another bottle of Cock of the North. Pour me a stiff one and a round for all the ladies... |
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20 Dec 02 - 09:05 PM (#851506) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Allan C. Hey, Tink! I know I can't pass the physical; but could you spare a dram of that CoN for the likes of me? |
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21 Dec 02 - 01:43 AM (#851584) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Cluin Dark wiry little lady enters and comes up to the bar, crooks a finger and beckons the barkeep towards her. "Oh, man!" says the barkeep. "What now?!" When he leans over the bar towards her, the lady says, in a thick Italian accent, "I'm-a looka for my husaban. You see? He's a handsome, a nice dress man, got-a nice suit. You see?" "Oh, sure, maybe", nods the barkeep. "There was a guy in an expensive suit here a while ago. But he left." "He go? Where?" asks the little lady, her chin jerking upward, eyes flashing. "He's alone or he's with-a some woman?" she challenges. "No, he was alone", assures the barkeep. "I guess things got too hot for him and he ran outta here lickety-split." "AhhhhhAtsa no my husaban' den", the lady shakes her head, almost sadly. "He pinch-a da bum, yes. But he no lick-a da split." Barkeep stares unfocussed for a 5 second count. "Fuggit! I'm on break!" he announces to no one in particular, then tosses down his bar towel, grabs a 40 of Jack Daniels and comes out from behind the bar. Throwing back his head, he upends the bottle into his gullet, chugging back a good five or six ounces. Coughs. Then he does it again. He lowers the bottle, glares once back at the bar, shakes his head and heads out the East Door, slouching towards Bethlehem. |
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21 Dec 02 - 07:53 AM (#851626) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario Y'know what I like about Christmas - sooner or later everyone shows up. New Friends, old friends, family. Have some more aurochs. Gotta make room for the big meal coming. |
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21 Dec 02 - 07:06 PM (#851912) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: SINSULL SINSULL slowly hums "Deep Purple" and laughs aloud at her own joke. Another JD, a lemon bar and she slips quietly back into her corner to watch the fun and guard against any further attacks on the duck. |
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21 Dec 02 - 08:01 PM (#851939) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Noreen Emboldened by Sorcha's protective presence, little duck pipes up: "Got 'ny aurochs? You can put it on my bill" |
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21 Dec 02 - 09:29 PM (#851962) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Liz the Squeak OK, so this is the shortest day... but it's also the longest night.. .where is that mistletoe? LTS |
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22 Dec 02 - 12:42 AM (#852040) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Cluin It's all been hoarded by a disreputable scion of unspecified foreign royalty, who has tied it to his belt, both in front and behind. He is presently standing on a table, clutching a huge stein of ale, three sheets to the hurricane and is incorrigibly belting out dirty versions of songs: But a horny old cuss was he He called for his queen and he called for his ho' And he called for his diddlers three... Of course, the Aberflyhalf RFC are cheering him on and there is talk of a coup... |
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22 Dec 02 - 05:17 AM (#852089) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Gareth Cluin - a calamny, a despicable calamny - I have never claimed to be the "scion of unspecified royalty" Any way the mistltoe is significant at Beltain !!!! Gareth |
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22 Dec 02 - 10:25 AM (#852178) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse But why is the mistletoe hung BEHIND! Tis as I suspected. You sir, are a prevert. |
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22 Dec 02 - 02:01 PM (#852220) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Amos It's an ancient Druidic symbolic ritual, the nearest modern translation of which, scholars agree, can only be rendered as "Kiss My Royal Irish Arse". This is not a widely known fact, because most scholars blanch at the very concept, let alone the prospect of publishing it in words. A |
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22 Dec 02 - 02:35 PM (#852233) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Cluin Actually, they hold back on publishing because there is some disagreement on the translation: some think the modern equivalent of the word is "Royal", while others think it is "Wild". More government funding is required to further research the discrepancy. |
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22 Dec 02 - 02:38 PM (#852234) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Cluin By the way, doesn't Welsh mean Foreign? *sneaking out* |
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22 Dec 02 - 02:46 PM (#852239) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Rustic Rebel The long-hair with the loin cloth and tool belt, sat beside me. He wasn't to bad to look at or smell after he had cleaned himself up a bit.He must have been getting a little buzzed though because he starts complaining to me a little.. He says, I repaired the hole in the roof, but do they call me a carpenter? I fixed the leaking faucet in the mens room, but do they call me a plumber? I build a rock wall around the paint truck to stop the wave of the fuschia, but do they call me a mason? No,But I fuck one inflatable sheep... I'm thinking this is someone Gareth, Art, or the bare-chested man in the MacGregor kilt could handle better than myself so I slip off the bar stool and go find myself a bottle of Cuervo behind the bar.(I figure I might as well take the whole bottle since we have no-one to tend bar) I think there is some coconut, lime and salt under the tree so I wonder off that way. |
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22 Dec 02 - 02:49 PM (#852241) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Cluin Yeah, Enkidu always did get rather morose just before he passed out. |
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22 Dec 02 - 03:51 PM (#852269) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse If Gareth has a Royal Irish Arse (RIA) he should get it decommisioned at once. |
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22 Dec 02 - 07:11 PM (#852339) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: SINSULL Is a diddler a person or a thing? And why does he need three? HAHA the duck said to put it on his bill. Just got it. I think I will help myself to the bottle of Jack Daniels behind the bar. Saves getting up and down. Put it on the duck's bill...HAHAHA |
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22 Dec 02 - 07:34 PM (#852348) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Rapparee The quiet man simply drank his Talisker, his sixth? seventh? seventieth? He'd quit counting some time ago. Exciting evening, what with the wave of the fuschia and all. He'd gotten pretty disgusted, too, with the various puns engendered: Liz, spying a small puddle of the paint off to one side, had said, "Look! The waif of the fuschia!" Amos, afraid that once the flood was stopped it would return as a ghost, had babbled about the "wraith of the future." He turned his back to the window and called to bartender for more. It was, he knew, either back to the fuschia or he'd be suffering from fuschia shock. |
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22 Dec 02 - 10:56 PM (#852405) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Cluin And thusly did the poor inebriated Taverners discover that both the bottle of Jack and the bartender were no longer on the premises--two of the seven signs that a new gyre fast approacheth. So let it be written... So let it be done. |
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23 Dec 02 - 02:52 AM (#852449) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Gareth Only to the foriegners !!!!! Gareth awaiting the Eweltide festivities ! |
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23 Dec 02 - 02:59 AM (#852453) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Liz the Squeak How do you turn a duck into a blues singer? Put it in a microwave until it's Bill Withers! (sorry duck lovers....) LTS |
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23 Dec 02 - 10:30 AM (#852500) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dave Bryant What a waste of a duck ! - you don't get any of that lovely crisp skin in a microwave. The one that we're looking forward to on Wednesday will be meticulously prepared before it goes into the oven. There doesn't seem to be much in the way of good, loud singing in the tavern at the moment - so I'll just slip away from Linda's Christmas preparations and find the Greenwich portal - it should be near the market - ah here we are. OK what about "While Shepherds Watched" to the tune of "Cranbrook" ? I'll sing the melody line in the Tenor -Come on MMario they tell me you've got a big voice - you can sing the baritone part. Liz, you've got the Soprano part and Morty can sing Alto. One, Two, Three While Shepherds watched their flocks by night............ |
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23 Dec 02 - 10:50 AM (#852515) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario MMario doesn't have much of any voice at the moment - his identical twin descendant/cousin/twin/ancestor Benjermin Laudley-Bellowes got a wee bit enthusiastic while celebrating Mr. Scrooges 'epiphany' yesterday - and while caroling - gradually lost tenor range, baritone range, and finally bass range - for once (and it don't happen often) MMario is silent. |
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23 Dec 02 - 11:43 AM (#852552) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dave Bryant Christ - that was a shambles - sorry Roger, I wasn't talking about you. I'll just nip back and print out a load of scores - then we can do some note-bashing and try it again. Do you all think that Christmas is just about getting pissed, shagging any creature that moves, and cooking and eating any that don't. BTW try and sort out who's singing the bass part - it's not difficult - it only goes down to A and up to D on the bass clef. You can find a MIDI of Thomas Clark's score HERE . |
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23 Dec 02 - 11:51 AM (#852562) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario of course not - Christmas is about lots more then getting pissed, shagging, cooking, and eating. those are just incidental functions. that make the holiday more festive. |
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23 Dec 02 - 05:59 PM (#852795) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse Christmas is about getting your inflateable bollox blown up, your foreskin ripped off, a tree stuffed up your behind, your best sloe gin used as a fire extinguisher, and your missus rogered by the skiffler! Been a good year, so far. Definately got this place in my calender for 2003. |
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23 Dec 02 - 06:08 PM (#852798) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Cluin Yeah, but what's the soundtrack like for that movie, Dead Horse? |
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23 Dec 02 - 06:18 PM (#852803) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Yorkshire Tony I can probably handle the Bass part. Camo can do the descants. Now how did it go: While shepherds washed their socks by night all seated on the ground The Angle of the Lord came down and paid for pints all round. |
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23 Dec 02 - 07:16 PM (#852825) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Leadfingers To the tune of Ilkley Moor BahT'at |
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23 Dec 02 - 07:29 PM (#852836) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: GUEST Drunken voice at the back of the room says, whoever organised this orgy shoulda be crucified...... |
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23 Dec 02 - 07:52 PM (#852843) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dave Swan Tony, you've saved Sherburne for me. New meaning. A genuine smile when I sing it. Thanks fo rhte Christmas present. Cheers, D |
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23 Dec 02 - 08:21 PM (#852853) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Liz the Squeak Sorry, thought I was doing bass... not had enough gin for that.... shall we try again? And baggsy I get to sing the line about the angel of the Lord giving them all a scrub... LTS |
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24 Dec 02 - 01:24 AM (#852948) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Stilly River Sage
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24 Dec 02 - 01:39 AM (#852951) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: mg and here is what they sang Jesus our King kind and good was humbly born in a stable of wood And the lowly beasts around him stood Jesus our King kind and good I said the donkey shaggy and brown I carried his mother up and down I carried his mother to Bethlehem town I said the donkey shaggy and brown I said the ox this was my hay I gave him my manger twas here that he lay I gave him my manger twas here that he lay I said the ox this was my hay (I said the sheep with pearly horn I gave him my wool for a blanket warm He wore my coat on Christmas morn I said the sheep with pearly horn) I said the dove from the rafters high I sang him to sleep that he would not cry We sang him to sleep my love and I I said the dove from the rafters high And so every heart by some good spell in the stable dark was glad to tell Of the gift they he gave to Emanuel of the gift that he gave to Emanuel |
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24 Dec 02 - 02:18 AM (#852957) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Liz the Squeak But what happened to the duck? LTS |
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24 Dec 02 - 05:37 AM (#853031) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse Bugger the duck. (ooh er) It's them chameleons I feel sorry for. (no flies on them!) Could you all sing faster, please, because they are re-running WW2 on the tele and I want to see how it turns out. We might lose this time, so as to be eligible for reconstruction money. |
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24 Dec 02 - 09:12 AM (#853092) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Roger the Skiffler From:Sue,Grabbit & Runne, Solicitors & Commissioners of bloody oaths. To: Mr Equine Deceased Re: Allegations made against our client Roger aka The Skiffler, hereinafter referred to as the party of the first part (second hand and worn out parts) My client feels your allegations are an unjustified slur on your lovely lady wife, Kay, aka Clogs of Fire, but flattering in regard to his own appeal to, and performance with, the opposite sex, so could you please publicise them as widely as possiblt to enhance his street cred down the day centre and NYCFTTS. Yours etc... RtS |
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24 Dec 02 - 09:33 AM (#853103) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: SINSULL (aside) Lovely, Mary. Thank you. Now back to the frivolities. To My Duck "There were three little ducks And they did go Wibble Wobble Wibble Wobble Down to the pond. But the one little duck With a feather on his back He'd lead the others With a "Quack quack quack" If the ocean were whiskey And I was a duck, I would dive to the bottom and never come up. But the ocean ain't whiskey And I ain't no duck So I'll drink the Jack Daniels And not give a ... Yellow bird Up high in the Christmas tree. Yellow bird Escaping the reverie. Would you like some Dew? It's my favorite brew. It's from Tennessee Where the grass is blue And the banjo rules And a twang is cool. They are more lucky than we. |
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24 Dec 02 - 08:33 PM (#853372) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse Xmas calypso music eminating from the bar.(the bar where Messers Sue,Grabbit & Runne, Solicitors & Commissioners of bloody oaths practise, no doubt.) As for the rogering, look mate, she's my wife, I have to, fer gawds sake. Wots your excuse? Seein' as how we is singin' agin', an' we got a theme of *whisky*, I reckon I might do a shanty if only I could think of one............... nope. Don't suppose there can be any, seein' as how all sailors was tea total. I dreamed a dream, the other night Tea bags, Tea bags away, my John Make me a cup, and make it white My Tea bags, haa-way Now, don't forget to warm the pot, Tea bags, Tea bags away, my John I likes it warm, but not too hot My Tea bags, haa-way And there's more where that came from, so let that be a warning. |
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25 Dec 02 - 02:21 PM (#853640) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Rapparee It was time. More than time, in fact. He took out The Trumpet. This one was midnight blue, with silver -- stars, were they? -- in the bell. This one you couldn't hardly keep in sight; it tended to vanish with vision, like something seen only in the corner of the eye. He put it to his lips, then put in a mute and blew one crystal clear note. It hung in the air like a star. No one noticed. The quiet man put the trumpet away, muttering to himself, "No, it's not time yet. I'll let Gabe do it; it's his job after all." He looked over the crowd again, and sighed, "They do a lot more good than ill. And this planet needs all the good it can get." He picked up The Trumpet, pulled the mouthpiece, and put both back into his pack. He drained the Talisker, shook his head indulgently, and with a faint "pop" vanished, leaving in the air only a "Merry Christmas and Peace On Earth" shimmering like thousands of tiny stars. |
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25 Dec 02 - 02:44 PM (#853655) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Stilly River Sage Sage looked up, with a niggling little feeling, like she almost just remembered something--it was like a scene from a Jack Benny movie--The Horn Blows at Midnight, sans the coffee cup. |
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27 Dec 02 - 02:56 AM (#853944) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Liz the Squeak There was the most delicious sound in the air... The band in the corner petered out to a gentle harmonic, even Morty looked up from her Baileys, and Liz stopped chomping on the sprout sandwich..... Suddenly, it felt as if someone had opened a window onto heaven, the air freshened, the sweet pine scent of the tree overpowered the fug of booze, farts and the jello pit. From far away, there came the sound of an ancient clock, chiming with the sound of silver bells, midnight. The duck, the chameleons and the donkey turn to the east, kneel down, and the air is filled with light from a source no-one can tell. 'Blessings on you all' they say, 'even you with the orange sauce'. Like the realisation that it's end of term or free drinks at the bar, every face is smiling, serene or beautiful. Gaudete, Gaudete, Christus est natus, Ex Maria, virgine. Gaudete! Pax vobiscum LTS |
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27 Dec 02 - 07:22 AM (#853977) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse I see the whist drivers are back, and trumps are in the air. (goes over to corner, hangs sou'wester over web-cam) Chameleons having settled down to a mahogany hue, are now flicking their tongues out in turn, playing at catching bar flies. Morti appears to be the favourite target. There is a knocking at the front door, then a bunch of hoodeners enter, saying......... Here comes bludger and his motley crew, They've come to see what they can screw out of you. Open your wallet, dig into your pocket, Then we'll be off, just like a rocket. It may not be traditional, but it is blessedly short. Not at all like a mummers play, really. |
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27 Dec 02 - 05:59 PM (#854249) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Liz the Squeak Come on you lot, Christmas isn't over for another 9 days yet!!! LTS |
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27 Dec 02 - 06:28 PM (#854263) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario But the place is a WRECK! Maybe we need to phase it into a new incarnation for New Years and Hogmany - then celebrate Old Christmas and Epiphany too! |
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27 Dec 02 - 09:47 PM (#854353) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Stilly River Sage
Knowing that a tip might well be offered by the customers, many now childlike in their sleep, the elves each help themselves to some of MMario's auroch and a roll each of Liz the Squeak's duct tape, left over from her early adventures in the tavern john. They depart merrily into the sweet-smelling night, knowing the revellers (who possess quite a bit of magic of their own) are all set to celebrate the New Year. Mmario and the barkeep begin to rouse first, and turn to tend their meat and drink for the stirring revellers. |
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27 Dec 02 - 10:28 PM (#854369) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: mg I sure hope they didn't use up all the lye in something so mundane as cleaning, seeing as it could be used in next year's lutefisk, thought the Swedish matron who had been given the chore of chaperoning the young maidens with flammables in their hair. mg |
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28 Dec 02 - 04:41 AM (#854435) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Liz the Squeak Hmmmmmm... wonder if they'd like to come home with me.... I could do with some extra help with the cats and around the house, especially that little one with the hairy chest, the one who listens to the same radio station as me...... bet he'd be good with the pussies. Have the duct tape and welcome... and if you come back on New Years' Eve, the usual will be in the garden, under the pitsiporum. LTS |
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28 Dec 02 - 07:03 PM (#854733) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse Bloody hell! I've woken up in the wrong place! Get me outa here, and back to the tavern, I left something there....(forget what. Bars open. Staying.) |
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28 Dec 02 - 10:19 PM (#854802) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: SINSULL Wow! They even shaved my armpits and waxed my legs. Flossed and brushed as well. I haven't been this shevelled in months. Wonder if they would be available for some light house cleaning on a bi-weekly basis???? Would like a bikini waxing for the new year too. I will have to check with the shoemaker next time I get re-soled or sold or souled... |
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29 Dec 02 - 04:33 AM (#854886) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Gareth And with a gentle sigh of escaped air the inflatable sheep settles down, and is rolled up and packed away into storage for the next opening of the Mudcat Tavern. The Monkey, dressed in its Sailors Uniform departs, it has an inkling to depart for Hartlepool, it's heard that Monkeys can have a swinging time there. Throats sore and bleeding the Aberflyhalf RFC depart at a swaggering stagger, thier jollility dampened by the thought of post Xmas training sesions, and hoping against hope that the Scrumage Training machine will not continue to win the ball in thier practice sessions. As they depart through the door leading to thier little valley the croaking strains of "Cosher Bailey" fade into the bible black darkness Have you ever saw, Have you ever saw, Have you ever saw, Such a funny thing before ... Into the void drifts a tinkling of Morris Bells, as always the Morris Dancers are the last to leave The drays arrive to collect the empties. Silence, decorum and sobrity settle over the tavern, like Van der Dekker, it exists in its own niche of unreality, awaiting revival when the festivities commence. Gareth |
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29 Dec 02 - 07:15 AM (#854920) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Liz the Squeak BBrrrrrrrrrrrruuuuuuuuuuuuuaaaaaaaaapppppppppppppphhhhhhhhh! that's better... always more effective when there's no background noise... Silence, decorum and sobriety my arse!!! BBrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmmpppppppppppppppphhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Listen how it tinkles off the tree ornaments... or is that the empties.... LTS |
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29 Dec 02 - 09:22 AM (#854959) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Gareth Into the void drifts a tinkling of Morris Bells, as always the Morris Dancers are the last to leave Correction - Delete Morris Dancers - Insert LtS Meantime the Chameleons turn a brown, sludgy colour. A learned scientist writes a paper on "The Olefactory Input of Chameleons". Gareth |
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29 Dec 02 - 12:21 PM (#855022) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: My guru always said Well-groomed & dusted off the little Tabby on the bar yawns, stretches & looks around for her new-found friends. 'Damn, I've lost them all again..... and just when I was starting to feel at home! Maybe they'll be back for New Year, there's just time for a quick singaround before New Year's Eve. Maybe it was all just a dream.......' |
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29 Dec 02 - 12:59 PM (#855044) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Noreen Small yellow Pontefraction duck awakes, nail holes in beak and webs also mended by shoemaker's elves. (Wonder if they've done the same for Oakley's parts too?) Feeling peckish, as ducks are wont to do, hops around on pristine bar: "Got'ny.... |
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29 Dec 02 - 02:07 PM (#855094) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Cllr Hello got any port? Cllr |
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30 Dec 02 - 04:51 AM (#855116) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: My guru always said A full loaf of White Sliced lies invitingly on the bar. 'There you go me Ducks, must be Christmas! Those luvly elves left all our favourite things after they'd fixed the bar up. Now, what do you want the bread for??????' enquired the Stray, wondering how she was going to get the bottle of Baileys open....... |
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30 Dec 02 - 08:47 AM (#855207) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Dead Horse Why would anybody want their bikini waxed? Must be some surfers expression! Ports. Right, we got Valley Prizo '79, (a good year) or we got that cheap Japanese stuff, Mirri Machi, 98. What's it to be? |
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30 Dec 02 - 09:02 AM (#855209) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Cllr Valley prizo thanks (although I prefer the 63 but thats hard to get hold of. Saw a bottle in chichister this weekend only 145 pounds a bottle) Cheers dead horse |
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30 Dec 02 - 09:47 AM (#855225) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: My guru always said Am saving a bottle of Commanderia for Sunday when I'll be trying out for a place in a girlie ensemble! Can't wait..... |
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30 Dec 02 - 11:16 AM (#855282) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Catherine Jayne Everyone is ralleying around trying to get the ol' placed sorted for the celebrations tomorrow night. The pontefract duck nibbles with his holey beak on the loaf of white sliced bread....and whistles 'best thing since.......sliced bread!!!!' The bartender has ordered extra crates of the best Port availiable.....Morty, Liz,Micca and catsPHiddle do like their Port also the bottles of Moet to toast the new year at midnight are nicely chilling in the fridge. It promises to be a great night!!! |
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30 Dec 02 - 11:20 AM (#855286) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: SINSULL Mumm's for me. I will bring my own. And lots of cranberry bread for the duck. |
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30 Dec 02 - 12:17 PM (#855321) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Rustic Rebel Oh shit. I wake up only to find myself purified. Now that was some magic trick indeed. I look around the bar and the whole place has been purified. It shines so bright, I have to ask Ray Charles if I can borrow his shades. Even my harmonicas were spit shined.I believe that elf spit has a little magic itself, because I put a harp to my lips and a strange little ditty flows from it. I'm going to warm up to play 'Auld Lang Syne' when the timing is right, until then, I have to start all over with that good buzz I had going. Bartender.... |
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30 Dec 02 - 12:56 PM (#855348) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Noreen Which Time Zone's New Year will we celebrate? All of them?? OK.... |
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30 Dec 02 - 01:20 PM (#855369) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario twenty four celebrations! yes! - Or we could celebrate for EVERY degree, rather then the (average) 15 degrees per time zone? Anyone up for it? (that would be a celebration every (approx) 4 minutes |
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30 Dec 02 - 02:04 PM (#855383) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Stilly River Sage Hmmm. I have a cooler filled with my homemade smoked salmon out in the pickup. I'll bring it in for the celebration, and leave it on the bar. If you WANT to wait until your incremental time celebration to come help yourself, then you can see if any is left. It has been my experience that this stuff is inhaled pretty quickly, so the salmon celebration maybe oughtta happen around Greenwich time. I am also planning to bring another favorite, sour cream mixed with dry Lipton's onion soup for a dip with Ruffles potato chips. And to offload a few leftovers, there might be a few spritz and krumkaka left over in a cookie tin from Christmas. The elves did such a marvelous job in mending the bar, it seems only suitable to fill it up with food. Here, kitty, let me open that bottle for you. Barkeep, do you have any sparkling cider back there? |
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30 Dec 02 - 02:30 PM (#855401) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Noreen Oh-K, I'll contribute my smoked mackerel paté, fresh from the bread bin! Just guard it from the Bailey's-sodden kittys for a while, at least, eh? So, we'll celebrate every 4 mins for 24 hrs? Who's keeping score? |
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30 Dec 02 - 02:51 PM (#855420) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: MMario ?? Who's gonna wait for GREENWICH time? I figger we start the Salmon Celebration (Cealmon Salebration?) somewhere in the early part of NEW ZEALAND time... |
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30 Dec 02 - 04:51 PM (#855506) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Noreen Salmon Chanted evening... |
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30 Dec 02 - 05:18 PM (#855529) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Leadfingers And when the weather is this bad who cares about how old or how vintage the fortified red wine is? Havent you heard the expression 'Any Port in a Storm'? But I do have a litre of Duty Free Malt whisky for New Years Eve |
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30 Dec 02 - 05:19 PM (#855530) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Cllr that was truly awful Noreen truly awful, now i need another drink |
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30 Dec 02 - 06:49 PM (#855563) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Liz the Squeak Did someone mention drink????? LTS |
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30 Dec 02 - 07:07 PM (#855580) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: Stilly River Sage Noreen's just feeling a little croquettish. Sage heads over to the coldest doorway in the establishment, pushes it open and plunges her hand into the snow piled up beside the stoop. "Ah! I knew some far-sighted Northwesterner left his cider on the porch to cool!" She carries this over to the bar, leaving the next obvious pun to someone else to drop on the room. |
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30 Dec 02 - 08:24 PM (#855645) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: SINSULL Time for a New Year's Thread? This one is getting a little long in the tooth. |
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31 Dec 02 - 09:36 PM (#856369) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: moonglow Moon opens the door, only to find the tavern quiet and empty, except for a slightly bedraggled cat with one eye open. She picks up the cat and a glass of cold cider and sits down by the fire, the cat purring loudly in her lap. "Where is everyone?" she wonders, and waits impatiently for someone to appear. |
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10 Mar 03 - 10:00 AM (#906476) Subject: RE: BS: MUDCAT CHRISTMAS TAVERN '02 From: My guru always said "Well that was a lovely nap in a cosy lap, Moonglow, sorry I didn't wake up earlier", purred the now perfectly groomed Stray Tabby. "See you here for some more fussing next Christmas...." |