Yeknodathon

Blimey, we are under the slavitude of Battlefreptiloids...

Well there's work and there's futile toil. Like rolling a Boo up a hill only for it to roll down again. Or read a never-ending machine gun thread.

[Meanwhile the Paddock is undergoing a fairly major defence strong point refurbishment with special attention paid to the possibility of Emrys night-time infiltration...]

I want to see Boo prancing in meggings

Ah, Emrys our own little epode on the butt of lyricism.

There's more ode in a toad especially when it croaks

I just wanted to say that the "efficiency / accuracy of machine gun fire" is just a treasure trove of information and balanced debate just jam-packed with insightful and interesting tit-bits of thoughtful, erudite observation and analysis that makes one's eyes water. I can hardly maintain a standing position. Indeed, I have gained such a lot from it, not least the sudden realisation that if Emrys is allowed to bleat on for more than 15 words a minute someone will have to change his barrel.

Well, there's always the Special Button? Do you have pimples?

[meanwhile, its a very special Cat 3 Florida event in the Paddock and to celebrate, a rather large donkey has blue-rinsed bristly hair and is feeling particularly perky at the prospect of special police guests and their restraining equipment]

No doubt racing back to First Mormon Tabernacle Seniors Bank

Yeh, how long can a line wait while someone tries to find Mitt Bama

Boo is in a swing state. Bet Founding Fathers didn't quite grasp the magnitude of this perilous situation,

And what bilge would an Australiagoober drink with such a pastry?

Does he stand on his hind legs and stretch his fingers out in a menacing way?

I'm thinking about an embalming and stuffing class at the Paddock, what is the natural habitat of the Boo so I get it in the right posture?

[...meanwhile, its a Very Special, Once Only By Invitation Medical Investigative Surely Emrys Must Have a Little Talent Somewhere? Gala Fest at the Paddock, and upon the altar of Emrys lays and little Rubber Gnome, back by popular demand, in various contorted limb combinations, facing glumly towards the spiral-bound narrow passage way of pain that that is slightly less tear inducing than a Boo tv reference. Well, Mr Gnome the question is..(as 1.5 metric tons of prime donkey is targeted with pinpoint accuracy at the feet so that the red pointy hat enters up the spiral in a quick, thrusting horizontal shove).. can the 50% larger than the BN typeface really survive a Gnome up the spout (including index)?

Michael the deity with a frailty (including index)

Yeh, it might include the index

Joe Xia, Justicreature invokes the 5th Amendment in the Pool, how K00L is that, I mean however futile, its a damn good entertaining way to claim protection from abuse of authority and like, well, we're all latch-key anarchists and want to burn your bank down and other stuff involving Mormon wives I'd like to hear it again?

[... meanwhile, its very special Zombie Donkey Dressage event at the Paddock as a ton-and-a-half of prime undead donkey shambles forward and sidewards in uncoordinated movements while spraying donkey saliva in every direction] BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAINNNNZZZZZ

Braaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaainnzzzzzz

[.. while engaging in a very spritely piaffe then a transition to counter canter and then travers at a collected canter] Well, I'd say donkey dressage is quite an expressive form and takes quite a lot of concentration.

Emrys in the Dunkin' Donuts queue?

Eh? Long may it wave? Are you in a paddling pool?

He's scary, I don't want to be anywhere near someone that looks like Lenin and stares.