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Egbert

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Posts posted by Egbert

  1. 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...

  2. Originally posted by Stuka:

    </font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Joe Shaw:

    </font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Boo Radley blurted this in a typically unthinking moment: These are the things I come up with while driving in to work.

    Have pity on me.

    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>

  3. Originally posted by Joe Shaw:

    </font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Egbert:

    </font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Boo Radley:

    Actually, it was the Sweet Sioux and they were known to have extremely happy feet.

    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>

  4. Originally posted by Boo Radley:

    Actually, it was the Sweet Sioux and they were known to have extremely happy feet.

    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......

  5. Originally posted by MrPeng:

    </font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Egbert:

    </font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Joe Shaw:

    </font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by MrPeng:

    I fell asleep at "for the luv..." Did I miss anything important?

    Bah! It's like casting pearls before swine ...

    Joe </font>

  6. Originally posted by Joe Shaw:

    ... or a tautology ...

    As to the Lady Linda, my own good wife, bribes are unnecessary as she KNOWS what a ... ahem ... "pearl" ... she has in me.

    "cast" in the sense of casting

    Joe

    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.

  7. Originally posted by Leeo:

    You putrescent piles of pig poop, it's spelled Reavers, and I've actually partied with the guy that wrote that stuff. Actually, his younger brother and I are the best of friends. He even named a character (short lived as you'd ever imagine) after me when he wrote his first novel, On My Way to Paradise (and a very-good-read it is, too).

    However, that still doesn't absolve you lot of being the bottom of the fungus-chain.

    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.
  8. Originally posted by Boo Radley:

    </font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Egbert:

    </font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Boo Radley:

    </font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Stuka:

    Oh Boo, I know how you yearn for my words to give you some direction in life.

    And now those words say "walk in the direction of coal train"

    "Oncoming coal train"? </font>
  9. Originally posted by Seanachai:

    </font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by dalem:

    Ahem.

    An Ode to my cigar humidor humidifer.

    It's tubular

    It's crystalline-filled

    It's long

    It's not short

    It was slightly goopy when I unwrapped it after spending hours on my sub-zero porch

    It will soon go toward maintaining the proper humidity for my store of Honduran tobacco-wraps

    Thank you, good night!

    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>

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