imported_Hiram Sedai

I'm too busy to wail with abject despondancy upon the arrival of Meeks. This Monday is just plain nasty.

I'm too busy to wail with abject despondancy upon the arrival of Meeks. This Monday is just plain nasty.

I’m back. I almost wish I weren’t. I’ll update anyone who emails me about my current situation. But this current installment of the Peng thread sickens me more than usual. I see the usual brain dead idiots visiting. I won’t single them out and give them a good verbal castigating because I don’t have the energy, and let’s face it…they don’t really deserve my attention. I noticed that the bard is sitting on the front porch of the Peng thread in his Sunday finest and trying to tempt the outerboarders with his high heels and falsetto voice. I also noticed that our own nefarious guard is working overtime to stop the flow of fetid personages not of the Peng thread. I would like to take this time to commend Berli and to admonish Seanachai. Berli, we both know that your evil machinations have delivered many a Monday unto me. I have toiled and stressed because of them. But, I know that you serve your purpose and I respect that. Seanachai, it is unseemly for an aging man to become a streetwalker trying to sell his flabby wares to any passersby. Do us the favor of stepping back into your poetry library and leave the recruiting to someone less effeminate. Turns will go out when I send them and not a moment sooner. Deal with it. By the way, Joe Shaw, you are still an excrement stain on the back of a toddler’s diaper. A little FYI for your day.

I’m back. I almost wish I weren’t. I’ll update anyone who emails me about my current situation. But this current installment of the Peng thread sickens me more than usual. I see the usual brain dead idiots visiting. I won’t single them out and give them a good verbal castigating because I don’t have the energy, and let’s face it…they don’t really deserve my attention. I noticed that the bard is sitting on the front porch of the Peng thread in his Sunday finest and trying to tempt the outerboarders with his high heels and falsetto voice. I also noticed that our own nefarious guard is working overtime to stop the flow of fetid personages not of the Peng thread. I would like to take this time to commend Berli and to admonish Seanachai. Berli, we both know that your evil machinations have delivered many a Monday unto me. I have toiled and stressed because of them. But, I know that you serve your purpose and I respect that. Seanachai, it is unseemly for an aging man to become a streetwalker trying to sell his flabby wares to any passersby. Do us the favor of stepping back into your poetry library and leave the recruiting to someone less effeminate. Turns will go out when I send them and not a moment sooner. Deal with it. By the way, Joe Shaw, you are still an excrement stain on the back of a toddler’s diaper. A little FYI for your day.

Interesting. SlapNTickle is only three years older than me. Who would have thought? Who would have cared?

Dalem, you fetid, festering, freak. You are a mistake of nature like the duck billed platypus. At least the duck billed platypus is somewhat amusing. Your vile presence is disgusting and you should be poked with sharp sticks until you stop twitching. No, you should be bludgeoned and then poked with sharp sticks. Even better, you should be forced to dance the forbidden dance with Joe Shaw, then bludgeoned and of course, poked with sharp sticks until you stop twitching and whimpering. Maybe, it would be most amusing for the rest of us if you were wacked repeatedly with a mackerel, kicked in the seat of your pants, forced to dance with Joe Shaw until the both of you are hot and sweaty and then both of you could be bludgeoned with heavy smacky things until you keel over. If your schedule does not permit this abuse, maybe Joe Shaw can stand in your place for the wacking, smacking, kicking, and bludgeoning. But, your turn will come. See the Cesspool Receptionist for your appointment.

Consider how very small and ineffectual you feel as you stand by the bed in the ICU. You hope with every fiber of your being that your loved one will survive. In your mind, you rail against the powers that be. It feels so unfair that a good person would suffer. But, it happens every day. It truly “rains upon the just and unjust”. My mind has been occupied with the upcoming surgery that my sister will go through. Surprisingly, this one scares me even more than the last one. It is the sum of the misdiagnoses that has discouraged me and made me a bit skeptical. How can so many people offer opinions and state them as fact? We laymen can only struggle to look for the silver lining. I apologize for the dose of reality upon your day. Reality dictates that life is pain interrupted by sleep. You may have thought that I was gloomy before when I was pretending. Take a gander now at my outlook on this steaming pile of feces that is life. I would gladly litter your screen with expletives to truly show my disdain for all things cancer. You know that it would be accompanied with hand gestures. Cancer has robbed me of too many family members and I am beyond pissed. I am concerned that perhaps the Creator is looking the other way. The ubiquitous sense of unfairness pervades my thoughts and I struggle with it. I gnaw on the memories of a grandmother with brain cancer. I ruminate upon the promises made by doctors who cannot tell the difference between a centimeter and an inch. You would think that a person you call “doctor” could tell the difference between a tumor “three inches wide” and “three centimeters wide”. I truly hope and pray that the next person who cuts into my sister’s head is adept at his job. I type this while being confident that most won’t read or even quote from it. Think of it as a cathartic bit of therapy. Go about your business and don’t mind me. CM fantasy is so much more pleasant. At least when you lose, you can always challenge again.

...the teeming millions lurking on the ubb. BUt this did not deter...</font>

Now this was a downright crappy Monday. I had to fire a person. I hated having to do it and the infernal overseers sat there and watched me. I do abhor them. They are the Human Resources people. They made me terminate a hard working young lady because she comes to work late. Did they have a clue about how much work she gets done every damn day? No. Did they care? I don’t think so. Two of them sat there as they had me deliver the message to my team member. We are called Team Players in my work place. I do my very best to be a catalyst in creating an almost family atmosphere. In short, ladies and gentlemen, I am pissed and a bit saddened because I befriended this person. I had to look her in the eye and tell her that she no longer worked with us. My mood is a bit maudlin because of this, but I am assured that most of you won’t care a whit either way. Since I am not bolding my text or mentioning anyone’s name that you may know, you just scroll to the next post. Go ahead and be a product of the “Me” generation. It takes too much energy and heart to care. The person who was terminated was a gem. She had all of my sayings down pat and was a constant source of amusement and encouragement to those around her. I am a lesser man because of her enforced absence. I could jokingly blame one of you for having evil machinations and for causing this occurrence to come forth. But, my humor has temporarily left me. The onslaught of reality has left me a bit morose and yet I need to gird up my spirit for the big one next week to be there for a family member. I don’t need to be jovial with a duplicitous air. That would be false. You can hurl your various expletives and inferences, but you know that I am not fake. Some of you do supervise others, so I hope that you understand. Be grateful for the people that work around you and with you. They are people and not a means to an end.

Here is my token post for this Peng thread. Glad to see Persephone start one. I’ll be a bit distracted the next two weeks, so turns will probably go out when I send them. This shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone. If you are curious about my current situation, you can email me. I don’t feel like posting the details in here anymore.

Remember when the most magical thing you could find was in your diaper? Think back and remember that tempting white wall in your bedroom. Brown smiley faces would adorn that wall when I was finished. I was the Salvatore Dali of fecal painting back in the day. It was much more water based when I found and consumed the contents of a vaseline jar. The volume of my mother's voice was increased considerably as she did NOT admire my artwork. I would offer some of the paint to her as a peace gift if you will. After the inevitable verbal castigation and cleaning, I was placed in my play pen. I found that I could wedge my enormous head in the floor of the play pen and look very closely at the rug underneath. Unfortunately, I would hear a screeching siren from out there somewhere and I would be plucked from my play pen paradise. More verbal castigation from my red faced mother and then I would be told to "be a good boy". I've tried since then to be "a good boy". Really. Let me tell you about my grandfather. He used to smoke cigars and watch the Phillies game. I would sit on the floor next to him while he would tap the cigar ashes on my head sometimes. He meant well. "Popop" would also have that little earphone thing in his ear so he could listen to another game. He was a born multitasker. I found that nothing short of jumping up and down in front of the tv while yelling "Go Phillies" would really get his attention. He taught me most of the expletives that I use today. He was well versed in stringing together the noun expletives so that they would become adjectives or adverbs. The grammer and syntax wasn't always correct but the meaning was always clear. He also taught me that disparaging remarks about the other person's lineage was also an effective way to irritate the other person. He used to lovingly call me the "little wop" because of my father's Italian heritage. I knew Popop wanted a beer when I heard "hey stupid dago". Good times, then. He could do a little trick thing with his elbow because he used to be a tailgunner in WWII. I miss him sometimes. [ April 26, 2002, 11:58 AM: Message edited by: Hiram Sedai ]

Hey, Joe. Where you going with that scenario in your hand? Mind sending it to hiramsedai@earthlink.net? Hiram's curious.

I am reliably informed that there is a difference between a "Trekkie" and a "Treker". Apparently a "Trekkie" is any girl who wanders around Star Trek conventions attempting to pull the pants off Leonard Nimoy ... therefore, one can only assume that a "Treker" is some GUY who wanders around the same conventions with the same aim. Joe</font>

Enough. I've sat quietly by while the Pool heaps load after load of unwarranted abuse on M'Lud's poor head, knowing that M'Lud Croda is far too humble a personage to respond to such drivel, but in the words of that sage philosopher Popeye, "I've had all I can stands, I can't stands no more!" OK, Sir Mac'n'CheeseEarSplittenLoudenBoomerBessYouIsMyWomanNow, you poor, pathetic Irish wannabe, scion of a bunch of thick-browed, hirsute cultural throwbacks who not only willingly eat haggis, but wear clothing more suited for a school for wayward Catholic girls. "Ohh, Ah hope Mither Sooperior dinna fan oot Ah be using me oonderwhare fur a' hanky!" The fact that you are descended from a tribe of Irishmen called the Scotti, who, due to their abysmal seamanship skills got lost, landed on the infertile rocky crags to the north of Britain and decided that running around shouting nonsense like, "Och! Me wee bairns," to any sheep in the vicinity seemed like a pretty good way to make a living just adds to the calumny that is you. If you're too thick to pick up on this as you sit there combing the sheep-dip out of that thicket you call a beard, I'm calling you out, Missy.</font>

Roight!! It's time for another sing-song!! Here is a little nugget from Disturbed that reminded me of PBEM's: Tell me exactly what am I supposed to do now that I have allowed you to beat me Do you think we could play another game? maybe I could win this time I kind of like the misery you put me through...

My favorite doctor was the one with the long scarf and the curly hair. I forgot the actor's name though. He was much more entertaining than the doctor who drove the stupid little car, or the doctor with the shaggy coat, or even the doctor with that goofy little suit with blonde hair. My favorite line from the show was when someone asked him his name and he said "The Doctor" They said "Doctor who?" and he said "Exactly" I'm amazed that they never figured out that a flight of stairs would stop the daleks.

Shaw get over here. I’ve had enough of your toothless ramblings. So, you claim to be the “Knight Champion” of the Cesspool and yet you natter on like a feeble old jewish grandmother. Your bold letters and caps lock won’t save you now. Try to stand up and face the music for the sake of the Peng Thread. You have done a grave disservice to what you hold most dear. We all know that you have no life outside of this thread. We also know that an adult diaper is your constant companion as you travel to the drugstore to refill your prescription of Viagra. So, put on your spectacles and read this little bit of advice from a concerned citizen. Please, for the sake of what is left of your faltering ego, we kindly ask that you stop barking at the monitor. It embarrasses us and makes us think that we should have put you in an old folks home years ago. Have you noticed how the squires no longer take you to the park any more to play with the pigeons? We only change you once a day and the shortest straw always seems to belong to Dalem. If you concentrate real hard, you might remember the last visit of a friend who wore a petticoat and recited poetry. He gently fed you your strained prunes and told you that it’s okay to be the Justicar and live in a fantasy world where you matter. He lied to you, Joe. He was trying to gain your trust so we could stand in line while poking you in the forehead and calling you a loser. If you truly wish to unleash whatever weak version of whit and ire you may still have, let me be the target. I can take it. In fact, I sit here chuckling about how easily it is to get you riled up just by hiding your Geritol. I remember that one day how red your face got when I snuck up behind you and kicked you as hard as I could in your old, wrinkled can. You dropped your walker and fell over. Good times!!

Hiram You amazing twit, kirk (not capatalized nor bolded because kirk is the worst captain in Starfleet) is from Iowa. He, therefore, sucks. Picard is an icon.</font>

I agree Joe. Maybe it's time to say goodby to this cold, cruel world. I would offer to snatch your dentures once more and you could chase me around the sofa. Would that help, or would your hip give out again? We could sing some of your old WWI songs until your inevitable nap time. Somehow, I don't think that would really entertain you any more. It's time to bequeath your hot air to Berli and your fuzzy bunny slippers to Croda. I've had my eye on your snazzy wrist watch. Want me to speak at the funeral? I'll be nice. I promise. Poor Joe is dead Poor Joe Shaw is dead Let's all gather round this wind-bag now to cry Well, he wasn't very old (yeah right) But he had a heart of gold ahem...I forgot the rest...need beer Edited to purposesly misquote Joe cause it's fun and I have so little fun these days. [ April 22, 2002, 04:03 PM: Message edited by: Hiram Sedai ]

Joe, you sad, simpering, suckling sycophant of the Cess. You are the sandman. You've shown that you can remember the details of our Beloved Star Trek, but you lost "that lovin' feelin". You are just a grup. Blah, Blah, Blah, Joe.

Joe, you insufferable bore. Sometimes, your posts have to be misquoted so that we won't go into a coma. I can feel my pulse rate dropping just replying to your pedantic mewlings. Captain James Tiberius Kirk was the man!! You know you loved that dancing green chick. (admit once and for all that you're human and we will stop poking you with sharp sticks) My favorite quote is from Captain Kirk: "He had a little too much LDS in college" Edited because I fell asleep while trying to reply to the Justicarrot. [ April 22, 2002, 01:15 PM: Message edited by: Hiram Sedai ]

Easy...they're both Pillocks! Persephone</font>

Gesundheit!!

I one Joe's dentures I two Joe's dentures I three Joe's dentures

A point of grammar: "your" is possesive ie Your nose is huge. "you're" is a contraction that is short for "you are". Therefore, I can say "You're the epitome of idiocy as is evidenced by your not checking to see if there was a Peng thread before creating one." See, wasn't that easy? [ April 19, 2002, 10:48 AM: Message edited by: Hiram Sedai ]