Egbert

Thought the slop buckets were filling rather slowly.

I cannot believe you still let Boo start new threads. I'm surprised that I'm not surprised though the disappointment is not unexpected. I had hoped for higher levels of disappointment but, you just didn't deliver. You even suck at failing. It's rather sad, but, not surprising. Here's the piss bucket. Yes, I know it's been a few years, which is generally too long to be gone with the piss bucket. You see, there was this hole in the bucket. Dear Liza said we should fix it. I went to get some straw, but it was too long...

Hey, he told me WWJD was What Would Joe Do?

Now that is just innaccurate and sick.

I thought Stukas were good for blowing up trucks.

If you put it over the little square under his name, it says he's defaulted, too.

Well, I see someone snuck in and cleaned up the place. Even put in flush toilets. It's almost as if you guys thought the serfs weren't keeping at their jobs.

If "Golly, I'm sure glad I'M not Boo Radley" can be construed as PITY ... then rest assured lad that we always have ... always. Joe </font>

Igor's hump in Young Frankenstein? (Not that there's anything wrong with that.) [ January 03, 2008, 10:07 PM: Message edited by: Egbert ]

Siouxless Joe Justicar

Penguins on horseback. [cue deep voiced serious documentary announcer] Once known as the best light cavalry to ever exist, it can now be revealed the true Antarctic origins of this Native American tribe. Migrating from from desert to the next, we'll explore...... </font>

Penguins on horseback. [cue deep voiced serious documentary announcer] Once known as the best light cavalry to ever exist, it can now be revealed the true Antarctic origins of this Native American tribe. Migrating from from desert to the next, we'll explore......

Shorter than what? Michael </font>

Lion grog.

Maybe he did but it was double super secret..... Ah, well, life as a titled serf.

Bah! It's like casting pearls before swine ... Joe </font>

Since my assigned mission is now declarations of the obvious.... Shouldn't Abbott's bus be shorter?

So, you're saying you were fishing for tautog and ate your Lady's pearls? (That weird thing still stands.) Well, here's the bucket for when you pass it. Somebody else is going to have to dig it out though. I know there's a newer serf than I here.

Bah! It's like casting pearls before swine ... Joe </font>

So, yer claim to fame is that you were passed out at the same pub a smart guy was in; you impressed him so much, he killed you in a horrible, painful death. Nice.

"Oncoming coal train"? </font>

"Oncoming coal train"? </font>

See, there is somebody worse than me. Ha. Thanks for the compliment, Joe. I'd love to return it but, I just couldn't do it with good conscience.

I think the proper spelling is Limburger. You weren't even close.

The gods see you, and they see the things you distill upon the folk. That was horrible. Not your worst effort, by any stretch, but that simply means no one with a weakened immune system ended up on plasma, and no pets were accidently neutered. You know, I have been to your house. I have drunk your rum/whiskey/beer/vodka/whatever and I have smoked your cigars. I have attempted, on numerous occassions, to teach you to sing. The way men sing. Songs robust with the foullness of being alive, and men, and having been with women, and yet still more horrible than can be described. It's almost like you can see it, leering at you out of the mist, but you still don't sing worth a tinker's damn (bloody pikeys!). Until you can learn to sing, you must not versify. For every true man must learn to sing, before he can write poetry. Until you have the courage to sing, how can you have the courage to look like someone who would write poetry?! And until you have the courage to look like someone who can write poetry, how can you write good poetry? </font>