Michael Emrys Posted October 15, 2008 Share Posted October 15, 2008 ...Castenedas... Castenada, Boo. Without the 's'. I actually met the chap before he published his first book, BTW. Michael Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Boo Radley Posted October 15, 2008 Share Posted October 15, 2008 Castenada, Boo. Without the 's'. I actually met the chap before he published his first book, BTW. Michael Which probably caused him to resort to even stronger drugs. "Dear Diary, Met some bastard named Emrys today. Annoying twit went on and on about the most boring subjects and wouldn't shut up for a minute, until I pressed a couple of dollars into his hand and mentioned that the little cantina up the road had Blatz for thirty-five cents a bottle. Worst day ever! I don't think the Datura's going to do it for me tonight, so I've been chewing Mescalito for the last 45 minutes solid and washing it down with Tequila, sucked through a Jimson Weed straw. If that doesn't work, I'm going to toss a bowling ball straight up in the air and step under it." Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Michael Emrys Posted October 15, 2008 Share Posted October 15, 2008 Oh, Boo, you're just jealous because I smoked mushrooms with him instead of you. Michael Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Boo Radley Posted October 15, 2008 Share Posted October 15, 2008 Oh, Boo, you're just jealous because I smoked mushrooms with him instead of you. Michael Nah, I didn't do hard drugs back when Ike was in office. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MrPeng Posted October 15, 2008 Share Posted October 15, 2008 Oh, Boo, you're just jealous because I smoked mushrooms with him instead of you. Michael Why the hell would you have smoked Boo! with Carlos Castanettes? Mushrooms, sure, but why did you even consider smoking Boo!? If anything he's not the sort to be smoked. He's more like a cucumber - he should be sliced, salted, and discarded. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Yeknodathon Posted October 15, 2008 Share Posted October 15, 2008 Kettler is often a visitor to the Paddock and we collaborate on various artistic endeavours - and like all very imaginative artistes that like to push the boundaries (tectonic plate movements being one of our favourite pastimes as well as intense games of the "hunt the reptiloid" - my, how a tail attached to a rubber gnome can convince some).. anyway, because this is a very intense collaborative experience and our very beings are melded into a consumation of Donkey and...er.. Kettler.. I mean, its like yer Ted Hughes and yer Sylvia Plath? Where does one start and the other end, eh? Okay, so the sodding Wiki links get a bit in the way but give the man his due he does his best with the superlative raw material mined from Salon Burro. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Boo Radley Posted October 16, 2008 Share Posted October 16, 2008 Why the hell would you have smoked Boo! with Carlos Castanettes? Mushrooms, sure, but why did you even consider smoking Boo!? If anything he's not the sort to be smoked. He's more like a cucumber - he should be sliced, salted, and discarded. No. I'm MUCH better baked. Or fried. Believe me. I'm pretty good when I'm sauced, too. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Michael Emrys Posted October 16, 2008 Share Posted October 16, 2008 Mushrooms, sure, but why did you even consider smoking Boo!? I just thought that putting him over a slow fire would be fun. I suppose burying him in a pit of hot coals luau style would work, but wouldn't be as entertaining. Michael Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Michael Emrys Posted October 16, 2008 Share Posted October 16, 2008 ...our very beings are melded into a consumation of Donkey and...er.. Kettler.. I mean, its like yer Ted Hughes and yer Sylvia Plath? Where does one start and the other end, eh? But which one pitches while the other catches? Michael Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Boo Radley Posted October 16, 2008 Share Posted October 16, 2008 Wasn't Sylvia Plath Miss Bell Jar of 1962? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Lars Posted October 16, 2008 Share Posted October 16, 2008 I just thought that putting him over a slow fire would be fun. I suppose burying him in a pit of hot coals luau style would work, but wouldn't be as entertaining. Sure it would. Just add a snorkel. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Michael Emrys Posted October 16, 2008 Share Posted October 16, 2008 Wasn't Sylvia Plath Miss Bell Jar of 1962? Yes, and the next year she was Miss Oven Tester of 1963. And that concludes my contribution to the sick humor of this morning. Michael Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Leeo Posted October 16, 2008 Share Posted October 16, 2008 And that concludes my contribution When did it commence, you geriatric gandy-dancer, you Washed-up-tonian? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MrPeng Posted October 16, 2008 Share Posted October 16, 2008 When did it commence, you geriatric gandy-dancer, you Washed-up-tonian? Why only two epithets? You had an ascending tricolon of vitriol going and you just let it hang there. Useless git. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Boo Radley Posted October 16, 2008 Share Posted October 16, 2008 Surgery can correct an ascending tricolon, can't it? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Leeo Posted October 17, 2008 Share Posted October 17, 2008 Peng, Peng, the magical fruit, the more he bleats, the more I shoots, the more I shoots, the better I feels, So let's shoot Peng and all make him squeal! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Leeo Posted October 17, 2008 Share Posted October 17, 2008 Surgery can correct an ascending tricolon, can't it? The doctors were a bit confused when I requested a tricolonoscopy; they only had two snakes in the orifice. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MrPeng Posted October 17, 2008 Share Posted October 17, 2008 Peng, Peng, the magical fruit, the more he bleats, the more I shoots, the more I shoots, the better I feels, So let's shoot Peng and all make him squeal! OK, Leeeeooo, lay off the rubbing alcohol and dog fur. It's harshing your mellow. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Boo Radley Posted October 17, 2008 Share Posted October 17, 2008 Dog fur? Is that like hair of the dog? Mr. Peng thought he got a win. Got a win. Got a win. Mr. Peng thought he got a win. But it was just a lousy drawwwwwww! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Seanachai Posted October 17, 2008 Share Posted October 17, 2008 Okay...I've read the last few pages, and it's apparent that whatever America learned about drug use in the period between 1970 and 2008 has gone completely by the boards. And Carlos Castenada was a lying poseur sack of ****e who'd probably never even eaten a hash brownie, let alone jumped all over the various hallucinogenic plants he made a fortune off of, pretending to some sort of Native American shamanistic right of passage. Hoser. Another lying bastard making money off the gullible. Step right up, step right up! See the Academic claiming he was dosing himself with hallucinogenic drugs and led along the path of ancient Native American wisdom by a Yaqui Shaman! See the bobble-head dopers eat it up like it was ice cream, and pronounce that they've found the Truth! Feh! Likewise, Bah! Remind me to tell you about the time I did a large amount of Hawaiian baby woodrose seeds on the first Father's Day after my Dad died. There was more insight, tears, penny-whistle playing and enlightenment gained that day than in all of Castenada's books put together. And vomiting. My gods, there was a copious amount of vomiting. Anyone who claims to have achieved wisdom in a spiritual moment fueled by natural, hallucinogenic plants without profuse vomiting is either lying, or selling something, or both. And anyone who passes the vomiting off as no big deal brought a change of clothes. It was pretty damn interesting, all told. Down along the St. Croix river. Very pretty day. Except for the vomiting. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Seanachai Posted October 17, 2008 Share Posted October 17, 2008 Oh, and Lars? I immensely enjoyed your party the other day. It was great. My thanks to your neighbor that fell asleep in the front yard with his head on the curb for bringing the 'dessert'. I spent the next three days in Iowa living under an assumed name. I don't recommend Iowa. A State filled with small minded people who want to know what kind of name 'Hakkim Rajnamurti Cohen' is. Very small minded people. One woman accused me of being an Arab. I forgive her, as she couldn't see my features because I was wearing my pants on my head at the time. I kept wandering around shouting 'People of Earth! Ignore Me!' It didn't seem to help. I wrote your name, phone number and address on pieces of paper and handed them out, but it didn't seem to reassure anyone. But the chances are good that within the next few weeks, you're going to have a lot of visitors. Put them up on the couch. The password is 'Rajnamurti sent me'. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Boo Radley Posted October 17, 2008 Share Posted October 17, 2008 And then it was Friday. And it was good. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MrPeng Posted October 17, 2008 Share Posted October 17, 2008 Bard!, tell us more about the vomiting. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Berlichtingen Posted October 17, 2008 Author Share Posted October 17, 2008 Anyone who claims to have achieved wisdom in a spiritual moment fueled by natural, hallucinogenic plants without profuse vomiting is either lying, or selling something, or both. Clearly, as I have found, man made hallucinogens are vastly superior. Let me take you down, 'cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields. Nothing is real and nothing to get hung about. Strawberry Fields forever. Living is easy with eyes closed, misunderstanding all you see. It's getting hard to be someone but it all works out. It doesn't matter much to me. Let me take you down, 'cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields. Nothing is real and nothing to get hung about. Strawberry Fields forever. No one I think is in my tree, I mean it must be high or low. That is you can't you know tune in but it's all right. That is I think it's not too bad. Let me take you down, 'cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields. Nothing is real and nothing to get hung about. Strawberry Fields forever. Always no sometimes think it's me, but you know I know when it's a dream. I think, er No, I mean, er Yes but it's all wrong. That is I think I disagree. Let me take you down, 'cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields. Nothing is real and nothing to get hung about. Strawberry Fields forever. Strawberry Fields forever. Strawberry Fields forever. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Berlichtingen Posted October 17, 2008 Author Share Posted October 17, 2008 Bard!, tell us more about the vomiting. No, better yet, demonstrate... while on your back please Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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