Seanachai

Sister Kitty! Go change your habit immediately! It's filthy!

We could try attaching wires from one of those old hand-crank telephone sets to his genitals and giving the handle a few spins.. That's a great inspirer of proper behaviour.

People like the Captain, well, they're not like normal people. They come and go. Like the wind. Or, no, wait, what's that thing that's like the wind, but different? Dandelions. He's more like dandelions. You know, for months the ground is all white, or brown, or whatever, and then one day, for no apparent reason, it's green. And then there are dandelions everywhere. The Capt. is more like dandelions.

I remember this one time, we all thought we saw Treeburst wearing a dress. But it just turned out he'd been banned. What was that all about, anyway?

There was this one time in the St. Croix river vallery when I was standing on a hillside, and I couldn't see the trees, but it turned out to be an optical illusion. No, wait! I meant 'hallucination'. But there really were trees there. Whoa! Look at that. I have hands.

You play the pipes? You play the pipes?! Michael, I have a feeling this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship... two strolling figures receding into the rain sparkled fog of an airfield...

Indeed it does. Can I bring some of the better behaved rats? They don't get out much...

My God, he's staying downtown, I tell you, DOWNTOWN! So feck the Mall. We're going downtown, I tell you, DOWNTOWN! Papa </font>

Ummm...does this mean you'll be going with a guy next year? Undoubtedly part of your campaign to one day be able to date anyone in the phone book...

We did that for his first visit. He walked into my kitchen and dumped my silverware drawer all over the floor. We managed to wrestle him back into the living room before he got to the drawer with the sharp knives in it...

And yet, you haven't committed suicide. What's that all about, Dave? Are you hanging on convinced that one day the gods will somehow register your worthiness and suffering, and transport you to a real place to live? Dante treated his enemies better than you've been treated. He simply put them in Hell.

Why do you no longer post your own, inspired, deeply disturbed takes on life on these Forums? I miss your twisted, vicious rhetoric, and pre-Apocalypso warnings of weirdness. Hitch up your fecking underwear, pull the sock puppet on, and give us all another take on Reality, you pillock.

Actually, you get points for not producing any more little Doroshes. I shall contribute to the Canadian Culture Board just so long as I've been provided with reasonable assurances that you haven't reproduced. Go chop wood.

You know that you're taken aback because your sudden and inexplicable plummet in intelligence was called to the attention of the public. It's alright, Dave H. You're capable of greater things. If you want to read good 'Historical' novels, read Eco or someone like Cecilia Holland. If you want to read really thought provoking 'conspiracy' novelists, read Thomas Pynchon or Robert Anton Wilson. Don't read sad sacks of ****e like Dan Brown. What a puddle of piss. Christ, I'm a bloody worshipper of the Goddess, and I found that exercise in pseudo-literary, pseudo-paganism buggery an exercise in embarrassment. But fear not, laddie. I know that one day, you'll amaze me. Please let me know what city you live in, so that while I'm perusing the national news, I don't miss your moment of 'police scanner channel' fame...

I feckin' wish, you annoying Kiwi sack o' ****e!

My small minded children. That would be you, you deeply beloved, but otherwise wastes of human genetic material. Should I ever, again, on this planet, decide to 'date' again, you would be the first to know. I revel in the freedoms of our polity, that allow even such as you lot to reproduce yourselves. Frankly, a nation dedicated to the hideous lie of Eugenics would quail at giving the least of you more than a shot at cleaning the toilets in a workmanlike fashion.

Did a directory check the other night, apropos of nothing, and noticed that the member count was down to nothing, and the 'top poster' thing was completely screwy. shrugs I just figured the Horsemen were after having some sort of inside joke with each other.

What're you trying to do, induce a cross-Atlantic double suicide? That book was, without a doubt, one of the lamest pieces o' ****e I've read in many a long decade. Urine running down a pop-culture gutter. The result of what happens when Judith Krantz decides to write an Umberto Eco novel. Bad writing, fatuous characters, ridiculous plot-line and a hideous hodge-podge of gibberish ripped wholesale from lunatic fringe writings like 'Holy Blood, Holy Grail' and even less reputable pieces of lunatic fringe-dom. This is Dave H's brain: still-shot of a bucket of frogs This is Dave H's brain after he decided 'The Da Vinci Code' was a good book: still-shot of a bucket of frogs soaking in wino urine and the spittle of crazy homeless people

Whiner. Fiefdom is ee-vil. Absolutely nothing happens for 23 minutes, then everyone spends 7 minutes or less frantically doing not much of anything, then they sag back into a state of lethargy for another 23 minutes, maybe making the odd post to each other about what they just did. It's like crack cocaine without any particular rush or euphoria. Not only that, but I noticed a fairly large number of absolute tossers on that board, and the taunting was for ****e. Fecking Gaylord taunted better than those people. Hell, a large number of them took themselves so seriously that I was hard put to decide if I'd wandered unto the BFC General Forum for another Neo-Con spittle-fest. The Church of Seanachai holds grave doubts about the Orthodoxy of Fiefdom. Watch this space: An Abomination may be in the works.

I demand that more things be done to confuse John Kettler.

And now, a jolly donkeyesque singsong: Misery`s the river of the world Misery`s the river of the world The higher that the monkey can climb the more he shows his tail Call no man happy `til he dies There`s no milk at the bottom of the pail God builds a church The devil builds a chapel Like the thistles that are growing `round the trunk of a tree All the good in the world You can put inside a thimble And you still have room for you and me If there`s one thing you can say About Mankind There`s nothing kind about man You can drive out nature with a pitch fork But it always comes roaring back again Misery`s the river of the world Misery`s the river of the world Misery`s the river of the world For want of a bird The sky was lost For want of a nail A shoe was lost For want of a life A knife was lost For want of a toy A child was lost Misery`s the river of the world Misery`s the river of the world Everybody row! Everybody row! Misery`s the river of the world Misery`s the river of the world Everybody row! Everybody row! Everybody row! "Misery Is the River of the World" -Tom Waits

Slightly confused. Do you mean Pawlenty's? By God, what a howler that would be! Good choice!

Hmmm. I might decide to adopt you. Better for the world if I leave a bit of myself in all the countries of the world. Well, spiritually, anyways.

Anywhere you want to. It's your country, after all, and the chances of anyone other than a fecking beaver showing up while you're having a slash is pretty slim. I mean, what? There's like one of you for every 50 square miles?

Don't make me come back there, you lot! I guarantee you won't like it. Everyone play nice now.