Seanachai

Hmm... 1) No job Check 2) No money Check 3) No life Well, yes. Check 4) No Style Define 'Style' 5) No friends Ah, now there, I think, I have you. If friends are gold, then I am rich beyond the dreams of avarice. Enemies are hard to come by. Friends are there for anyone who opens their eyes. With a world so full of good people, the only thing that keeps anyone poor is a poverty within. Even utter fools, like myself, can find that sort of gold on the Road of Life. Why else would I call for Hatred? When you're old, and stupid, and broken down, Hatred is reassuring. You can get and keep that without any real effort. But Friendship. That makes you feel unworthy. Does anyone deserve a friend? Only the people that you think of as your friends seem worthy of friendship. Does anyone feel worthy of something as powerful, as cleansing, or as uplifting as friendship? I don't. But I believe I have friends. It's like believing in God, but so much nearer and more humbling. Because I won't meet God, if he's there, until all my acts are done, for good or ill. But my friends are here, now. And so my acts, myself, are all they have to go by. And someone who gives you their friendship, is giving you a sort of trust that will never be needed by a being who is all-powerful and all-knowing. They do it because they believe in you. And they do so in an act of faith that beggars the concept of believing in a Being of Ultimate Goodness. Anyone can believe in a god, especially if by doing so they expect some ultimate reward. But people who believe in 'you', because they are your friends? What can you do for them? Maybe the simple fact that you are their friend? And so a great circle of trust and belief is created. Could anything be more humbling? I don't know that I have any friends. But I believe that I have friends. Of course, I also believe in the Xmas Bunny. Refulgent in his robes of the purest, shimmering samite, he stands before me, even now, with chocolate eggs and get-out-jail-free cards for everyone. My dear Lady Morraine, never underestimate the foolishness of friendship, nor doubt the presence of the Xmas Bunny.

Hmm... 1) No job Check 2) No money Check 3) No life Well, yes. Check 4) No Style Define 'Style' 5) No friends Ah, now there, I think, I have you. If friends are gold, then I am rich beyond the dreams of avarice. Enemies are hard to come by. Friends are there for anyone who opens their eyes. With a world so full of good people, the only thing that keeps anyone poor is a poverty within. Even utter fools, like myself, can find that sort of gold on the Road of Life. Why else would I call for Hatred? When you're old, and stupid, and broken down, Hatred is reassuring. You can get and keep that without any real effort. But Friendship. That makes you feel unworthy. Does anyone deserve a friend? Only the people that you think of as your friends seem worthy of friendship. Does anyone feel worthy of something as powerful, as cleansing, or as uplifting as friendship? I don't. But I believe I have friends. It's like believing in God, but so much nearer and more humbling. Because I won't meet God, if he's there, until all my acts are done, for good or ill. But my friends are here, now. And so my acts, myself, are all they have to go by. And someone who gives you their friendship, is giving you a sort of trust that will never be needed by a being who is all-powerful and all-knowing. They do it because they believe in you. And they do so in an act of faith that beggars the concept of believing in a Being of Ultimate Goodness. Anyone can believe in a god, especially if by doing so they expect some ultimate reward. But people who believe in 'you', because they are your friends? What can you do for them? Maybe the simple fact that you are their friend? And so a great circle of trust and belief is created. Could anything be more humbling? I don't know that I have any friends. But I believe that I have friends. Of course, I also believe in the Xmas Bunny. Refulgent in his robes of the purest, shimmering samite, he stands before me, even now, with chocolate eggs and get-out-jail-free cards for everyone. My dear Lady Morraine, never underestimate the foolishness of friendship, nor doubt the presence of the Xmas Bunny.

No trouble, lad, no trouble at all. And these wiggling latex enclosed fingers have saluted Royalty. Now, try and relax, and think of something heroic while I'm doing the 'chanter' fingering for 'Scotland the Brave' on your lower intestine... Ah, the pipes. How they console us, at moments of loss and pain.

No trouble, lad, no trouble at all. And these wiggling latex enclosed fingers have saluted Royalty. Now, try and relax, and think of something heroic while I'm doing the 'chanter' fingering for 'Scotland the Brave' on your lower intestine... Ah, the pipes. How they console us, at moments of loss and pain.

Well, no one who doesn't know that you always try to disguise a 'double post' as another, equally meaningful message. You bugger.

Wow! 9.95 Euros? What's that in a non-convertible, soft currency like American dollars? Oh, sorry, that's probably a question for next year at this time...

It's wonderful, to come in here, and see these bright young minds discovering the game. Even being so daft and new that they call Grog Dorosh sir, rather than 'You pustule'. or 'You little horror.' It fills me with a feeling of wonder. A feeling of joy. A feeling that they'd better start using the vowels and consonants that they sold to buy drugs, and getting off drugs long enough to use proper sentences, punctuation, and capitalization! But that's just me. Never mind, look away, it's just an Old Man's fancy. I'm simply taken back to those days when the Nuns would strike you sharply with a ruler for using things like 'u', and 'rgr'. Mind, I wasn't taught by Nuns. In fact, the Church requested that I never be allowed near Nuns, for fear of the impact on the environment. But, as I've gotten older, and older, and even 'really old', I understand why there should be Nuns hitting people up sharpish. But in this new, modern, high-tech society, I think that people should be hit with tasers. Perhaps repeatedly. What was I saying again? Oh, that's right. Someone put a dart into Dorosh, and bring me my big book of 'proper English'...

Ah, yes. Boo, hand me the rubber glove. Welcome, Philippe! I'm Doctor Seanachai, frontier proctologist! Bend over and think about your happy place, lad. We're just after tickling your fancy, to make sure there's no lymphoma...

Ah, yes. Boo, hand me the rubber glove. Welcome, Philippe! I'm Doctor Seanachai, frontier proctologist! Bend over and think about your happy place, lad. We're just after tickling your fancy, to make sure there's no lymphoma...

Yeah, that was cool. I've decided to keep posting. I mean, sorrow and grief and whinging about solace and going into a high dudgeon are all great, but nothing beats watching the jackals circle. That's your entertainment dollar, at it's best, I say!

Yeah, that was cool. I've decided to keep posting. I mean, sorrow and grief and whinging about solace and going into a high dudgeon are all great, but nothing beats watching the jackals circle. That's your entertainment dollar, at it's best, I say!

I...I...I just don't think I can go on. All this grief, and then people come on and belittle my best attempt at the rules...deride me yet again for recruiting. It's just too much. Here, where I'd hoped for some sort of solace, some comfort, I find only derision. I guess an old man should simply retire with his sorrow...

I...I...I just don't think I can go on. All this grief, and then people come on and belittle my best attempt at the rules...deride me yet again for recruiting. It's just too much. Here, where I'd hoped for some sort of solace, some comfort, I find only derision. I guess an old man should simply retire with his sorrow...

Hey, all, haven't been by much lately. I tell ya', planning this Memorial for my sister is certainly bringing out all the worst and most annoying personality traits. But I try and leave before they all get too angry with me. Tonight everyone was trying to decide on the best Scripture readings. This was my contribution: 2 Kings, Chapter 2: 23 From there Elisha went up to Bethel. As he was walking along the road, some youths came out of the town and jeered at him. "Go on up, you baldhead!" they said. "Go on up, you baldhead!" 24 He turned around, looked at them and called down a curse on them in the name of the LORD . Then two she bears came out of the woods and mauled forty-two of the youths. 25 And he went on to Mount Carmel and from there returned to Samaria. It was not well-received.

Hey, all, haven't been by much lately. I tell ya', planning this Memorial for my sister is certainly bringing out all the worst and most annoying personality traits. But I try and leave before they all get too angry with me. Tonight everyone was trying to decide on the best Scripture readings. This was my contribution: 2 Kings, Chapter 2: 23 From there Elisha went up to Bethel. As he was walking along the road, some youths came out of the town and jeered at him. "Go on up, you baldhead!" they said. "Go on up, you baldhead!" 24 He turned around, looked at them and called down a curse on them in the name of the LORD . Then two she bears came out of the woods and mauled forty-two of the youths. 25 And he went on to Mount Carmel and from there returned to Samaria. It was not well-received.

My God, it's like he grew up with us...

on this useless night with you so far away I stand in front of this ferris wheel and I wonder what am I doing here and I wonder what am I doing here and all the drunks just stumble by and mumble their abuse tell me what is the use and I wonder what am I doing here and I wonder what am I doing here -Blue Rodeo

on this useless night with you so far away I stand in front of this ferris wheel and I wonder what am I doing here and I wonder what am I doing here and all the drunks just stumble by and mumble their abuse tell me what is the use and I wonder what am I doing here and I wonder what am I doing here -Blue Rodeo

Bah! Been jailed, been institutionalized, haven't been dead yet. Two out of three isn't bad. Of course, it may not be regarded as 'good'.

Bah! Been jailed, been institutionalized, haven't been dead yet. Two out of three isn't bad. Of course, it may not be regarded as 'good'.

No! Sing. Sing us a jolly singsong, you silly little bugger. We like a good singsong.

No! Sing. Sing us a jolly singsong, you silly little bugger. We like a good singsong.

They rise up, they rise up, they rise up, They rise up head first Drunk, am I? And what will you do about it, Mistress Kitty?

They rise up, they rise up, they rise up, They rise up head first Drunk, am I? And what will you do about it, Mistress Kitty?

Silly girl. No, we won't. We shall wrap our glad noise around the very stars. For there are none like us. Or you. Or any of us. Or anything. What was I saying? Hell, let's everyone dance. Or sing. For tonight, I know, that someone is looking down on us all. Someone who's hair flows like the milky way. Who loves us all. Mind, she thought most of you buggers were as daft as a brush. Have you ever seen such stars?