editor's note: since poasting this message, Buffalo revealed the hidden message in one of JohnnyOhOh's poasts, stating he was going to disappear. Since he announced his disappearance it is no longer a mystery, and this poast chain poases no purpose.
Any more than any others here.
Otherwise, it originally read:
I know Heeere's Johnnny left, but what the heck happened to Our Johnny? Unless he changed his name again (criminy, I wish people would stop doing that) he hasn't been here pretty much since last week's football games. Maybe it was the downfall of the Stillers that has him crushed and non-participatory. I miss his witty repartee and strange links.
Actually, I think that was the last thing he did. Some link. Geez, I hope he didn't fall in.
He always notices when I'm not here, so I wanted to let him know I notice, too.
When I'm not here. There've been times I've missed me terribly. The sense of abandonment... the empty sighs... the longing looks at the gray gloom of winter... the blur of emotions... the fog of memory.. the lonesome longing of a loon lingering on the lake.
Well, actually, I'm nowhere near a lake. Hopefully, I'm nowhere near a loon, either. If I go see Pat, then we can revisit that.
He hasn't poasted since the 24th January when he poasted this.
QuoteI am planning an Ace-like sabbatical.
Is that spelled right or correctly?
That's a rhetorical question... no need for an answer.
Maybe there will be a spell-check later, eh?
I guess that means that he will be back shortly as several other people and will spend a lot of time talking to himselves.
Or he's still looking for his Dictionary........
Well, I don't know where he gets off thinking he can just take off any dang time he chooses. For all he knows I put in for those days, and I've got seniority dangit.
Good find though, Buff. That cider is working well for you.
Ace; I wish I could take a sabbatical. I'm just stuck with regular old PTO.
Listen here, you almost had a sabbatical; a permanent one. And if you don't do something about some of your habits, you may have another opportunity to visit that issue.
Then you'd be sorry or we'd be sorry, I think.
It was nice of Johnny to bury his annoucement in some obscure poast where a detective like Buff - almost said snoop- has to go searching for it. We oughta ask pat or somebody to make a rule about absences and notices.
Be fun again trying to poast in another "Rule Poast"; wouldn't it -huh - wouldn't it?
Hey, we have everybody's birthday on the Calendar, why not book time off on there too?
At least if someone disappears you could just refer to the Calendar and see that they have gone on holiday. Or whatever.
That way we could set Scuzzy on anybody who has too much time off sick or who has unexplained absences. Mind you, if your PC is borked you can't really do anything can you? Hee hee, I bet that's what's happened to JohnnyOH - his PC's borked and he can't fix it!
Bed time now, so I'm booking a few hours off. Back in the am (GMT). 'Nite.
its only 9:13 but, ok, night matey :)
also, he probably having a time doing some "real life" stuff, whatever that is...... i havent visited real life for 4 whole years, and still somehow, i am still alive.........
work that one out....
Igloo
Ok; Ok. I can work this out. I'm good at story problems; everyone here knows that.
Alright; rumour has it both Buffalo and Igloo are both overseas. Buffalo says it's 9:30 and time for passout I mean bed. Igloo says it's only 9:13, and he is not only alive but also awake. Igloo doesn't visit real life, and Buffalo drinks to it. Ian is on the opposite side of the pond, from Igloo. Since Ian had a birthday and Igloo hasn't yet, Ian must be older... at least by a couple weeks. Mixing Buff's cider and merlot with a shot of Master's vodka, things get much funnier, but that still doesn't explain where Johnny's sabbatical is taking place or why Angelina Jolie wants to adopt Brad Pitt... he's not even Cambodian.
I don't think.
No; really. I mean that in the truest sense.
JLoh mentioned spell check.. ok, so Angelina Jolie must be an anagram for.. uh...
Jeani Oil Angle. Which would be Genie Oil Angle, mispelled. Magic lamp oil.. Make a Wish Foundation... I dream of Jeanie... Ok, wait; Buffalo will go to sleep and Dream of Oil! Or Geometry! Or Euclid, Fran and Ollie! From that kid's show.. That's gotta be it!
Ace; gotta be. what.
Are you sure it wasn't Euclid, Fran and Follie?
Most times you don't have to be quite so specific about your thinking, but you have very well trained fingers.
The digits on this keyboard generally have to redo things several times but they have learned where the backspace and delete keys are located. Seems, like dogs-according to Ace, they have no long-term memory. Or, they have lost the sync with the CPU.
llib
Thanks; I've practiced with these fingers since I was young.
I think, sometimes, it helps if I explain where my mind's going or what it's thinking, I think. Other times I don't think it would really add anything.
I didn't mean that dogs have no long term memory; I think I meant they have no memory whatsoever. Although my dog could sure hold a grudge... It's like she knew what Bath meant. And Walk. If I could've said "walk" and get her to agree to a "bath" life would have been easier on both of us.
Ace: I wonder if Johnny remembers he's missing.
This furball seems to know what "Out" means, and he's beginning to catch on to O-U-T when used in a discussion about "how long has it been since..."
(3 backspaces and 2,now 3 deletes)
I'd put in a fence but it would have to go a couple of feet in the ground and be as tall as Shaq and then he'd turn the entire backyard into a mud hole. As it is, the "grassy play area" is now fit for mud wrestling or hogs.
Ok, now.
Johnny is probably quite happy to be free of the Funny Farm responsiblities, however short the sabbatical. Cast off the chains of ....
Bill; lucky guy
OK, the Merlot was good, but it made me really tired - hence going to bed at 9.15 or whatever it was. Therefore, not the ideal compliment to poasting. The Cabernet Sauvignon, when consumed after a large chicken tikka pizza, gave similar results yesterday.
I may well have dreamt of oil, or Euc... what's-his-name, but I honestly don't remember.
And I'm going off Brad Pitt. (Angelina Jolie is an anagram for fickle woman).
Life is a cabernet, old chum.
Fickle women are the worst. It's like "fickle" is their middle name.
Ace; that'd be a sorta weird name, wouldn't it. "Well, hey, meet my kids, Ferd and Fickle."
Ok, I'll bite -
What is a "chicken tikka pizza"?
Bill; I prefer my grilled
WHERE THE HECK HAVE YOU BEEN/ARE YOU? Criminy. I just got Service Pack 2 put in awhile back, and you're already on 4??
It's very nice of you to stop by and say "Hi", though. Well, or say all the stuff you said. Although next time when you stop by, you might try saying something... Instead of "I've been gone and couldn't remember my name and so am back but not like I'm going to say anything more than I've been gone now I'm back now I'm gone again bye later."
Geez. I suppose I wish I was there, just to know what you didn't bother to tell us. The toast sounds good, though. That I might do.
Ace; eagerly awaiting the next installment of "Heeeere's Johhnnnyy Oh I mean OH with more news and weather." Oh, and you still didn't explain what in the world a chicken tikka pizza is. C'mon.
You should be glad we're not there, wherever "there" is at the moment.
We'd create all manner of disruptions; loudest CDs in the world, flying pigs for lunch, crawling on treadmills, you name it.
Thanks for stopping by.
Bill; I wonder if Johnny is really Thag?
Ask him if his girlfriend is named Jamie. Jaime. James. Something like that. And ask him if he's the drunk on the left.
Ace; I think Bill is onto something.
Certainly wouldn't be the first time aliases were used by nefarious poasters.
But I think I'll let someone else ask about James Jamie or
Ok- where were we oh, yeah, where was the question.
Bill; not there.
A Chicken Tikka Pizza is, funnily enough, a pizza with a Chicken Tikka topping. If you are unfamiliar with chicken tikka, it is an "Indian" dish that is extremely popular in the UK. In fact we eat more chicken tikka than just about anything else.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/special_report/1999/02/99/e-cyclopedia/1285804.stm (http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/special_report/1999/02/99/e-cyclopedia/1285804.stm)
Hey Johnny, how.......oh, he's gone again. I missed him. That sucks. I guess it's pretty nice that he takes the time to pop in when he's on a break but sheesh, that was quick.
Better change the thread title again....
Well, ok. Curry chicken. That sounds good; I like curry. Never heard of it here in the states. We've got California Pizza kitchens, with wood fired ovens. And normal old pizza ovens. I wouldn't mind a dang chicken tikka chicken pizza with a nice merlot, after a margarita as a cocktail.
I just had chicken and dumpling soup, and a ham and turkey sandwich on rye. And a pepsi. It was good; but not like a chicken tikka pizza and red wine, huh.
Ace; should add that recipe to the dang immortal pizza poast, wherever it went to.
Just goes to show that some good can come from Recalcitrant Scots. ;D
William of Glencoe
I've known Scots I wouldn't trust as far as I could throw them. I wonder if there are any Jester Scots.
Ace; because I'm figuring they'd have jingly bells under their kilts.
Nah, laddie. Highlanders are all manly men, no bells under the kilts; nothing else, either. Take another look see at "Brave Heart".
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v243/foxybill/braveheart.jpg)
Brave Heart lives
W of G
You have an interesting mug.
I think poasting pictures of stuffed animals, or other knick knacky items, is just silly.
Ace; the bear dohn wahn hes fraydom.
Yes, I agree but avitars don't count, right? But better than pop-up ads. Better we should poast nothing.
You should try shaving it!
nothing
Of course Avatars count. An avatar is like 120 pixels.
I want to know what I'm shaving before I do. Try to. Try to do. I think avatars based on "The Tattoos of Angelina Jolie, Including Those Not Visible To The Naked Eye Unless She Is" would be worthwhile.
Ace; g'wan. Poast away. Nothing better pop up and get in the way.
How come your Avaters are always the same size. You have an avitor camera or somethin'? Does it ever take pictures of anything besides pigs? Maybe it's a Miss Piggy Avitar Camera, yeah, that must be it.
Tats ain't purdy (according to Tutuola), no matter what they're on. Grafitti on the Temple.
BTW, Where's Johnny?
Bill; glad I'm not visible to the naked eye.
My eyes are never naked. I almost need glasses to find my glasses.
I wasn't going to stare DIRECTLY into the tattoos... I was gonna sort of... look around them. And now you're just jealous of my mastery of Avatar Editing Skills of which I Compress My Personal PHotos To Perfectly Positioned Avatar Size and Configuration Through My Skillful Use And Mastery Of Photo Impressions Software which came with the Canon.
And people say I have no computer skills... ha, I say to them.
Ace; you heard me . ha.
Well I misspoke. The most recent one is 90x123, off a few from the strictly enforced 100x100 standard.
You must have been feeling a need to express some form of your individuality, rebelliousness,even. But the subjects don't seem to change.
Bill; go Eagles.
With tats......
(http://imagehost.darkernet.co.uk/i/5691-Jolie_88076211.jpg)
...and without.
(http://imagehost.darkernet.co.uk/i/1107535950_Jolie.jpg)
That is far over my avatar size limitations. Thank goodness. Oh, and you misspelled
hold it. Nevermind.
Ace; wow, I almost made a fool of myself.
Hey! I am supposed to be the risque one around here.
I was going to make a play on words but I remebered that Scuzzy's been around here quite a lot lately and I would likely be arrested and locked up. Or worse, banned from Poasters! Still, thankfully you have done it now and you can take the consequences.
HEY DANGIT I DID NOT DO "IT" IN FACT I POINTEDLY AVOIDED "IT" AND TOOK SPECIAL DANG PRECAUTIONS TO DELETE "IT" SO "IT" WOULDN'T HAVE DRAWN UNDO ATTENTION TO "IT"self criminy.
Oh, and I'm just yelling in case Trav had his ear up to his screen, again.
If anyone is going to be banned and scourged and locked up it's Angelina. Either she's wearing The Patch or that's a cross... and I don't know quite what religious statement it would make. Sure, I've seen people wear them around their necks, but I'd hate to have one down under. Guess it'd keep a vampire away, though.
Probably not a regular guy, though.
Ace; if we're getting rid of risque ones, Buff volunteered.
Well you don't have to worry about it seeing as how you're in Iana and not Australia.
Besides, if your description of the pony keg is close to accurate, you couldn't see it anyway.
You misspelled tats.
Bill; no pun intended.
A tattoed potatoe would be a tater tat.
It would. Really.
Ac;e people, it's Monday. Just bear with us while we get up to speed.
Yes, G_d, its Monday, after a predictable but disappointing Sunday. No, not the Eagles, the commercials. And the half time show might as well have not existed. Probably would have been more entertaining for J.B., Terry and Howie simply to make jokes. But not Jimmy Johnson, he can't tell a joke.
Bill; what could be next, NASCAR?
I'd like to see Paul McCartney play the infield at Daytona. Jimmy Johnson doesn't have to say anything to be funny; he has the hair. And I aspire to follow his footsteps in the sand, on Key West, with a Heineken on the beach.
But not the hair. Or the plump little cherubic demeanor. Maybe Paul coulda mooned the crowd, as a malfunction. Or they could've had the Tuskeegee airmen fly the F-18s. That coulda caused some excitement.
Charlie Weiss can now go to his day job, at ND. I hope they can win many superbowls with him there.
Ace; I liked the cat commercial where it looks like he killed it. Due to my fondness of cats.
Key West, Huh. You and the Parrot Heads wasting away in margaritaville; but you'd have to skip the salt.
What cat commercial was that? I must have been gettin' a refill.
Bill; blew out my flipflops, walking Fido.
A guy has a pot of tomato sauce on the stove, and the cat hits it and dumps it on the floor... He has a knife while cutting up something, and grabs the cat off the floor and sauce when the date shows at the door... She looks in and sees the cat covered in red held by him by the scruff of the neck, with the knife in his other hand...
I found it kinda funny the Anheuser Busch "welcome home the Vets" one was the favorite of many... I think it was touching and heartwarming and DIDN'T HAVE A DANG THING TO DO WITH BEER let alone Anheuser Busch. Not like it was "Hey, grab a six pack of Bud and head to the airport to welcome back troops!"
I would've enjoyed more of them if my dang 80 year old father in law had kept from changing the dang station every few minutes back to the PBS (not PBR) nature show on Giraffes. Criminy, we gotta take that thing away from him.
Ace; if I ever get like that in my old age, just use a hammer.
I think an 80 year old with the remote and an interest in Giraffes deserves recognition. And for company, another 80 year old with a competing remote and a love for cooking shows. They deserve each other.
The Cat Commercial sounds as if I would have enjoyed it- considering my love of cats. What was it a commercial for, Pedigree?
Speaking of Giraffes, there was one in the Bud commercial with the Clydesdales that I chuckled over.
A new perspective on "long necks".
Deposits are required in NJ but I'd hate to clean them up.
Bill; animal wildlife lover, from afar.
I would have just as soon he turned on the Angelina Jolie Show and left it there.
I have no idea what product the cat commercial was for. Typically, I have no clue nor rememberance of what product commercials are promoting. I enjoy them purely for entertainment value.
I'm sure that will please the sponsoring companies to no end...
I saw part of the animal commercial, but didn't hear it. I hope they run it again, as it looked to have a pig in it. I enjoyed the Mustang convertible one, but they sure over-ran it. And some were just one-shot deals. I don't mind depositing the beer in me, but I don't want to invest more in it.
Ace; at least the Panda show wasn't on..
" I would have just as soon he turned on the Angelina Jolie Show and left it there. " A Colts fan with a few sour grapes perhaps? Just wait 'til next year. ND will win the Super Bowl, Pats will finish last, and Iana will be back in Glory.
That's the problem with some very creative commercials, the product reference is sometimes so slight or obscure...or it could be RAM problem.
Now that would have been funny, PBS running a panda "special" against the Super Bowl and the FIL channel surfing.
Bill; I figured that was Scuzzy with the Mustang, locale seemed right.
Nah. Even a frozen guy is more alert than Scuzzy.
Oh; you mean the cop. I suppose. I didn't notice if he had hair or not.
And, for your information, if the Angelina Jolie Show was up against the Colts I'd tape the Angelina Jolie Show. And watch it. And then watch the tape.
aCe; there's nothing special about pandas. Even if they're fat, and it's a Tuesday.
The more I think about it , it had to have been Scuzzy. How many cops do you think they have working in that kind of geography? Make-up artists work wonders.
Ok, Ok. It's only Fat Tuesday in Nawleans and eastern parts of Texas. And it's raining there. Michiana celebrate Fat Tuesday?
First off, "Michiana" doesn't celebrate anything. It's a magical mystical mythic and fictional neverland sandwiched betwixt Indiana and Michigan.
Secondly, you're mentioning the dang Mardi Gras in the Johnny poast while the Fat poast is on Scuzzy.
Heh. Ok, I guess that will work.
Sure we celebrate Fat Tuesday. I mean, tomorrow's Ash Wednesday here too. And then Fat Thursday. And then Fat Friday.
And so on, and so on, and scoobee doobee doo now as Sly Stone would say.
We also have this Polish stuffed pastry things that gets made every year at this time. I don't eat them, myself. I'm already stuffed.
Ace; for Lent I'm giving up margaritas from Pat.
Maybe that's where Johnny is, certainlly not here.
If Michiana is magical, every day could be Fat Tuesday, parades, costumes and all. Neverland, huh? You know Peter and Wendy? Nice kids but no common sense, or manners for that matter. The way they treat that older guy with the disability is shameful.
Well, yeah. Some of us have fat days. What's your point...
Dangit.
I don't know Pete, except for the one who used to live here and brought forth upon the chatroom the Immortal Monkey Joke. And I work with a Wendy, but I don't think that's whom you mean.
I tell ya, if I get old with a disability I hope it's a hook or something, so I can get back at any dang kid who starts getting smart with me.
Ace; and a monkey on my shoulder, that I could throw at them.
You know, I think I'd rather have a Taser than a hook; no permanent damage and a bit more effective. Dang kids would remember me, that's for sure. Probably wouldn't change their manners though.
Bill; I use elastic waistbands for skinny Fridays.
I'm not finding Fridays skinny enough for elastic. Or stretch pants. I'm thinking sweat pants, with a drawstring, when I get home.
I think I'd have a Taser, if I owned a cat.
Ace; and enjoy it.
You going to blame the cat's manners or lack thereof on the parents? Might as well, parents get blamed for every other dang thing including traffic tickets, talking in the library and cell phones in movies.
Yes, it's all my fault, I failed my children and society. Do you have the nails ready?
Bill; Tasers for Valentine's Day.
Well, I sure didn't ruin MY kid's/s' life or upbringing.
Do you mean Rusty Nails? I used to order those; scotch and Drambuie. They're ok. I forgot about those.
Cupid with a Taser; that'd be a whole different take on the symbolism. Good idea; we'll put that on the Beer Wagon.
Ace; just because.
Well sure, that's what I meant, yeah. Better to have a Rusty Nail than be nailed, yeah.
Cupid with a Taser is like a policeman in a tutu.
Bill; I never wore tutu on duty. Only message I sent was bad-a--..
Heh. I was just picturing Scuzzy in a TuTu. Not a Desmond Tutu; the real thing.
Boy, I bet that would get him transferred to the Vice Squad.
So; when you were an Officer of the Lieu, did you have a beat? Could you dance to it? Did you ride around in a car and drive on the side of the road at 120 mph and scare your daughter and eat donuts, like Scuzzy? I meant, "Did you eat donuts, like Scuzzy"? Were you a detective? A gendarme? MP? My grandfather was an MP in WWI. I have his Billyclub.
Hey! That's something YOU oughta have! Do you have one of those? That'd be a taser, any day. No; I mean it. It would beat one.
Ace; if Johnny was here he'd poast a link to a photo that wouldn't be of you.
Yeah, I ate lots of donuts. And yes, I had a Billyclub, also known as a nightstick, sap gloves and all, long before Tasers were around. Probably wouldn't have liked them in those days. There was nothing like a nightstick to the back of the knee to bring a violent husband, or wife as the case might have been. Tasers would have been seen as a sissy tool.
I walked a beat, in the part of downdown bordering on the "Projects", midnight to 8am. Plenty of "Social Clubs" for after hours entertainment - for them and me.
I'm glad I wasn't one of your "projects." I'd have to say, between you and Scuzzy, I wouldn't want to be.
And I'm innocent of any wrong doing.
Ace; still.. ???
Actually, I'd rather have you between Scuzzy and me, for protection. Those Counties can be ferocious. I gave that business up a long time ago. Now, excluding the keyboard, I'm just quiet and peace loving. Except, of course, when it comes to ill-mannered kids and pushy seniors, and overly outspoken, opinionated... you get the picture.
Bill; hey, don't push.
I wouldn't want to come between myself, personally. Our Counties here are pretty low-key. I live in St. Joseph county, so you gotta figure he's not going to be a real rabble-rouser. LaGrange County is a couple over, but since it's still in the 1700's there's not a lot of action.
Scuzzy: "Frank the Ferocious." Yeah. Ok.
Once he retires and goes to the WWF he's at least got the nickname ready. You know, if push comes to shove I'd probably take the fall.
Knowing how to fall is key in skiing and skating. Also skydiving. And horseback riding. And old people.
Ace; The St. Joe Weather is quite nice today. I should take a picture.
Remembering your description of Murphy's front yard, St. Joe's County is still in the 1700s.
How could you be having nice weather? You said it snowed again. Too many Greenies, huh?
"Where's whozits?" suggests he's been gone so long we can't remember his name or maybe we just can't remember anything that didn't happen 10 years ago.
Bill; BTW, you misspelled "Alex".
Right; the check's in the mail. Haven't we all heard that one before. I'll believe it when it gets here. He does. Whoever he was.
Sure, it snowed lightly the other day. And yesterday was 50+. So it's about all melted. Our weather changes constantly. Whatever it's doing you can be sure it won't be, soon enough.
I'm off Greenies. I'm on brownies: Amstel Light. It takes a 12 pack to flush out my system and convert to light beer. Thing is, I have a couple and say "well, that was pleasant. But I can't taste my beer, so why bother." Then I either switch to hard stuff, or water. Or hard water if the softener is on the blink. It does help me cut down. Sort of like having a bowl of All Bran, instead of food. Once you've had sticks and twigs it's hard to go back.
Might as well pour light beer on the bran cereal and ruin both of them.
Ace; "the 13th." Whooo. Big scary Sunday the 13th. We'll see.
So the challenge for the next decade is to find a beer that tastes like Greenies and has the calories of Light.
Good dang luck. 'Course not being a beer drinker, I won't be of much help here.
Instead of switching to the "hard stuff", which speeds up your incapacitation, why not try the hard water in an empty Greenie can, not a bottle. You won't be able to see it, you can't taste the Light stuff anyway, and the carb and calorie count is favorable. This solution would also give you more functional time at the keyboard. Win-win, all around. Even the doc will like it, except the "hard" part of the water. He'll probably suggest the chemicals or minerals in the "hard" part aren't good for you. Docs are like that.
I have found that mixing the All Bran with a generic variety of Bran Flakes, and a banana for potasium, makes the medicine go down a little easier.
Bill; welcome back,13, we missed you.
Well, fine then. Come and go. Here and gone. Hither and yon. Back and forth. Hit or miss. Here today, gone today. Who knows what tomorrow will bring. Whom.
And they wonder why they put swinging doors on the rec room, here.
My guess is that Johnny got confused on who he was, like he did when he thought Bill was Bob (he wishes) so he probably mistook himself for someone banned or MIA and now can't decide if he can come in or not. That, or he forgot the secret knock.
Plus, if you're having trouble going, I agree with myself that Corn Bran and Oat bran mixed sure is more palatable than All Bran. I do the bananas separately... I like the purity of the grain, with the balance of the fruit, as two separate functions. The insoluble and the soluble, separate but equal.
I don't know whose zits. I'm in no mood for adolescence again, having seen what it's done to Iansl and Trav.
Ace; geez, don't let the spyware hit ya while you run through the chatroom...
Just so we can get things right,
1 I wasn''t talking about oat or corn.
2 Bran flakes are made from Wheat
3 Bill never wished to be Bob. If I wanted to be "Bob" I would have registered as "Bob. I mean I had the option.
4 I never wondered about the swinging doors, I figured they were for people coming and going carrying a lot of bagage.
Bill; haven't seen a zit since Animal House.
Just so we can have things just so:
1. I was.
2. Bran refers to a number of grains.
3. Bob didn't want Bill to be Bob, either.
4. People can come and go from the window, if needs be.
5. I didn't know animals got zits.
6. Johnny must be Robt., since I was responding to him anyway.
Ace; Murphy's leaving, right now.
Huh? What was that famous line from Taxi?
Guess I misinterpreted the antecedent or the precedent or whatever you sergeant majors, who know what those things are called, call them.
You really think whozits wanted to be Bob? I thought-
wait- it doesn't matter what I thought- obviously I misinterpreted the, oh, Ok, nevermind. But you said....
Speaking of English Phrases, The Westminster Dog Show is this week, "Jolly good I'm not a custodian".
Bill; I prefer oatmeal.
Never mind what I said. It's more important what I meant. The only famous line from a Taxi I ever got was "I'm off duty." Oatmeal takes way too much trouble, what with the adding stuff and microwaving. I'd rather just dump something in a bowl and have it dumped there. Ready.
I may as well not even poast at Johnny. It's like talking to yourself, anyway.
Well, myself.
Plus, there was some new guy Robt. here, but now he's gone too. The 13th was supposed to be some "big something" but obviously not. Now it's the 14th, and a day to commemorate massacres.
Ace; happy massacre day to everybody.
The other famous line from a Taxi is: "no, no, the city is this way, trust me."
Oatmeal provides that "warm and fuzzy" feeling so appreciated in the morning, lowers your LDL and generally makes a mess of the microwave, what more could you ask?
If Johnny's original thought was correct, you have been poasting to your alterego for a couple of months, what's changed?
Bill; Now that's a messy sentiment.
Taste, for one thing.
Look, if you'd stir it up you wouldn't have sentiment settling in the bottom of the bowl.
Sure I poast to my alter ego. Plus my regular one. I'd poast to an altar boy, if I knew any. Plus the unwashed multitude on the teeming shore... To the living, and the dead. Huddled masses yearning for free stuff. Those here, those absent, those absent minded.
If a Jester poasted to an empty court, would anyone hear it if he fell over? Well, yeah. Duh. He would.
And if I wanted to serve some porpoise I'd get a job at the aquarium. The way I see it, if you're reading what I'm writing then the blame lies with you. (I don't mean "you" personally.. it's used here in general reference). I may be LD, but LDL just sounds like a copout to make it easier for dyslexics to spell. Like "Bob". Of course, to me, that's "scixelsyd."
I've been known to misspell "L." I've been known, like others here, to offer stereo advice to people with no money. I've offered mono advice, to anyone who wants to know how long they'll have that fever and when they'll start to get their energy back... it'll take months; I know.
Do I "like" talking to myself..? Not hardly. I find I'm a lousy listener. Would I rather maintain a dialogue with a photo of Angelina Jolie? Well, yes. Naturally. Criminy, who wouldn't?
I'm here for the give, and take. Tit for tat, as the lads across the pond would say. Probably half of that is going to be bleeped, making for a mystery of just what the heck I tried to poast in the first place.
We're all here for a limited time. We make our impression, and then we flip over the sofa cushion... The Johnny come latelies come, and go. But not on the 13th, regardless of what they promised. We're born, we die, and everything in between
is everything. Because, before we're here and after we're gone, it's just one huge desolate empty black void/chasm/precipice/vacuum
Ohio. Really. That big, that empty. the Big Empty. Like STP used to sing. That's one of my favorite bands... before they sorta split up, and Wieland went with Velvet Revolver. I'd like to get a poster of them, if I could find one. And put it up, at home.
Ace; because I just love band posters. Right.
Do I sense the "Easter Turmoil" building? What is it about the celebration of this event that engenders frustration and unrest? Geez, there are always pretty flowers, lots of candy and goodies, if you're lucky, good weather over the weekend, except its usually cloudy on Friday afternoon, and a big dinner to top off 40 days of anticipation. If you happen to be in Rio or Nawleens or Texas, there's even a big party to start.
And yet....
The good news is if the Jester fell over in Court, he could sue the Queen of Hearts, then settle out of court, negoiating with the White Rabbit for more time between the beginning and the end.
You must have a different brand of vacuum, or maybe need a new one. Mine is never black, more like a collection of gray stuff (and recently some dog hair) and the dang thing is never empty. Seems like every other day I hear"Would you change the bag please?" And the dang bags are big enough to handle all of Ohio. I tried to recycle one once, never again.
And you misspelled poasters.
Bill; you never walk alone, but that's Jerry, not Bill.
I finally got a "Jaguar" vacuum without the bag; you lift off the canister and dump it out. Partially on yourself, due to the dust and all. But that's ok, because you can use the attachment on yourself.
Be careful where, though.
I didn't mispell anything. Or Poasters. I was talking about band posters. Defunct groups. Some of them you'd just as soon not have to listen to anymore. I got enough of that stuff in 7th grade; like the Monkees.
It's too dang lousy out for Easter. Easter should be sunny and flowery and warm and sunshiny. Not 35 degrees and dark and raining. At least the snow is melted, or watered, down. I'm ok with Lent; it's good to be somber and reflective sometimes.
This is the winter of my discotheque, some French person once said.
Ace; I wish my head wasn't so reflective.
Talking about bad posters,I once saw a 3x4 one of a panda, of all the stinkin' things. The whole dang gift shoppe smelled.
It's begininng to look a lot like Chris no wait Spring-
sunny, 55, everything's mushy underfoot, yard's covered with the debris of shedding trees, and probably Fido. Maybe Whiz could lend me his neato compost gathering tractor. And supply the manpower., I hate yard work. All that dang bending over, picking up, haul it to the curb, argue with the collectors - "no, the dang can is not too heavy, if I can move it ..." and then the stupid competition begins for who has the greenest and best groomed lawn. I don't care one dang bit. "My shears aren't as sharp as yours, you win, big deal."
bill; my thumb is not green.
Dangit! I've missed Johnny again!
I haven't been around for a day or two because I've got the plasterers in. Pretty soon I'll have the painters in. I expect he'll swoop in and out of the swing doors then as well.
"Easter Turmoil"?. I'm with you - loads of good food, loads of sweets and chocolate. Loads of kids off school as well, unfortunately. :(
Who cares about lawns? I tarmaced...tarmacked......surfaced mine so that I could park cars on it. Looks great now and definitely low maintenance.
Good job your thumb is not green. That means it is still growing and you don't want a really long thumb.
Oh, and you misspelled everything.
Johnny who?
Heh; Buff said Bill mispelled everything. He's probably right.
Who's this Chris everything looks like? Or is he mispelled too? I think the trash collectors are just teasing. They do that with Murphy; they won't pick up stuff if he has too much out or if it's not just in the right place or if he doesn't bundle the yard waste. They just do it to antagonize him... I know I would.
Are plasterers people you hire to come in and get plastered? I think I could do that.
Ace; I wonder if they have sick days. I hate a smelly gift shop(pe).
Quote from: Ace on February 15, 2005, 10:01 hrs
Are plasterers people you hire to come in and get plastered? I think I could do that.
Nope. Don't need any help with that, thanks anyway. Besides, I've got my friend Merlot here.
These plasterers are smoothing my walls and ceilings. I have been a victim of the Artex craze of the '70s. Everywhere in the house, textured Artex has been applied with a frightening liberalism. The property is a '20s period house and it has retained a lot of the period features and feel - until you go inside and are assaulted by the textures! Well, that is all changing now, to the detriment of my wallet.
I never heard of Artex. It sounds like it can be a mess to remove. And older versions could have asbestos? That's nice.
I'll tell ya, having lived through them, the 70's had some problems as far as fashion sense. I mean, when you're in bell bottoms and a Nehru shirt you can imagine what your walls could look like...
You should poast some photos of the reformation. Maybe a "before" and "after."
Ace; keep the merlot handy, if you decide to check your wallet. It will help.
Now wait just a dang minute. Not only are bellbottoms still being worn, they were really great if you put your shoes on first. 'Course you have to remember TGIF.
Artex was the guy that worked with Gleason. He tough to get rid of, for sure. And air freshener
was always required.
I do have a lot of "before" photos, so I will do some "after" ones and poast them in the Poast Office.
Yeah. I remember the bellbottoms. And the huge, pointy shirt collars! And platform shoes!
Shudder!
"Body shirts." They were way cool, with hip hugging bell bottoms. And, yes, large collars. With large ties. Double windsors. Big dang knots.
I wore boots, so the pants were even more conducive.
I have decided to name my Texas Poaster "Artex" in honor of your textured surfaces. He's sorta textured... at least his hat. He's kinda a "boy in the hood," too.
ace; it was that or "Neon"...
Quote from: Ace on February 15, 2005, 11:18 hrsI have decided to name my Texas Poaster "Artex" in honor of your textured surfaces. He's sorta textured... at least his hat. He's kinda a "boy in the hood," too.
I'm honoured. So are my textured surfaces, which shouldn't be very textured anymore. I'm just about to go home and find out......
I wonder if tattoos are textured. Do they make your skin bumpier, or is it smooth? I wonder what it's like to rub your hand over the illustrated skin of a
Ok. Ok, already. That's enough. Knock it off. Geez Louise, you're breathing hard and getting all a-twitter thinking about it. Stop it. Criminy. You idiot.
Ace; the root word of a-twitter is "twit".
Pictures of tatoos are not textured, and pictures are as close as you're ever gonna get. Just calm down before you need to go back to the ER.
I have to ask since you laid it out there, is your Texas poaster gasey? Sorry, couldn't let it pass, no pun intended.
Are we flashing back to Saturday Night Fever or something here. And while we're talking about style, big knots are back, along with multiple stripes and checks and stripes and..it makes me dizzy to look at it. What happened to regimental ties and solid colored shirts and suits?
Crikey.
Bill; no brown hats with white suits for me.
So very little in my life is regimented.
I still have mostly solid color shirts. I tend to put the pattern in the tie. I've found a patterned tie on a striped shirt looks "busy." I hate to look busy.
You know, I may as well just set up my own ER. I go there, go to the doctor, they don't have the ER test results... finally get them while I'm sitting there waiting, and then have me retest anyway. So they set up a clinic test; I go there, have it, go to my doctor and they don't have the results. I have to tell them how it went, and how I did. They call me the next day at home to tell me I was right. I might as well phone it in, as far as having these visits mean anything.
I wouldn't mind a white suit; and a black tee shirt. Miami Vice. That was the height of fashion. Get me a quiana shirt.
Hold it. Wait. Let's try that after a few more weeks on the treadmill.
Ace; months.
What did I tell you about doctors? Biggest collection of
inefficient systems you will ever encounter, and the most expensive. And, they act like they're doing you a favor. Geez. Chances are 50-50 the test results were "misplaced". They get to run the test again, bill the insurance company again and get their "professional component", again. And, if they weren't "misplaced" the other version is "We have ever really trusted x,y,z Lab, the results are inconsistent. Let us do it again, right here in the office." Bingo, "bill'em again, Mary and double the price, I am, after all, supervising the test, personally." While he goes off to see the patient in the next room.
Bill, I like Shamen and feathers.
Well, yeah. Feathers. Sure, I like feathers. Angelina Jolie in feathers would be something.
Hey Jude, could you do something with that? Thanks.
I don't know what Mary did but I'm mad at her too, now. He didn't even stay in the room for their EKG.. just had the nurse do it. Looked at it with a scowl, trying to see something wrong. Couldn't. That frustrated him even further. This from the guy all concerned about my "heart" who prescribed Bextra without a blink.
I would like to be a Shaman someday. Unless you misspelled Charmin. Then I don't think I'm for being that.
Ace; where's Johnny, anyway? Wasn't he supposed to show up on the 13th? What's THAG doing stopping by, but not saying anything? Is this a set-up?
Sounds as if you are beginng to see the light, not the one on the end of the no better not. Not all operate that way, but too dang many do. Last example... A while back I took the youngest to the pediatrician for an infection in the ear. we were promptly ushered into a treatment room where we waited 35 minutes. Doc finally arrives, asks about the problem, looks in the kid's ear and says, "yup, he has an infection". Writes a prescription for amoxacilin and we head to the front desk. "Mary" proceeds to charge us for an"extra long" visit. I comment, she says "you occupied the room for 40 minutes, that's an extra long visit, $120.00 please.
Bill
Mary should not be long for this world...
ACe; I'm pretty sure last time a doctor put a flashlight in my ear he saw a light at the end of the tunnel, too. On the wall.
To get back to the point...
Looking "busy" may not be a bad thing. After all, seeming to be productive at your desk while actually poasting witticisms here keeps the task master at bay. Maybe you should redecorate your desk with stripes and checks so you look "busy" all the time, even when your not there. Impressions and perceptions are perswaysive persuasive important.
I agree with style or substance, in all things. I am nothing if not stylish.
I've found a messy office gives the perception of business. Busyness. Bussines. Being pretty darn busy. I don't bring checks into the office, as I don't want them to get into the wrong hands. I have cash, but not that much. I shift the piles of papers, to update my surroundings. For decorating, I've just got photos I've taken and my Far Side calendar. I don't own, I just rent.
Walk around with papers, and you'll look like you're working on something. Leave your jacket in your office, and people will think you're still on the premises even if you ducked home for a minute. Walk fast, with a thoughtful look. Even if it's just out the door and to come in the other one.
"You never get a second chance to change your first perception," I've always learned.
Ace; something like that.
QuoteWell, yeah. Feathers. Sure, I like feathers. Angelina Jolie in feathers would be something.
Hey Jude, could you do something with that? Thanks.
Nope. Sorry. No can do.
Feathers are OK, but when that stunted Kidman woman turned up at the Oscars wearing them I went right off them. Besides, they tickle me tats.
holy cow. Somebody got up on the wrong side of the zoo today.
You know, I had my hair like that back in college. Finally went back to the side part. Now I guess it's parted down the middle, again.
I guess.
Don't worry about the feather thing. Heck, Nicole doesn't need anything on to look ok as far as I'm concerned.
Ok, look, you know what I mean.
Yes, that's what I meant. I knew you'd know.
I didn't know you had tats. Heck, poast a photo of those. See if they're textured or not. I'm running out of household statuary to shoot, so I'll probably go to some other theme soon. Maybe "my best Nike caps" or "muddy backyard shots" or "peanut shells left by fat little men on my porch" or "Murphy going for a walk." Something.
Ace; I wonder if you have to dry clean feathers.
Buff
You misspelled no wait...
No pictures of piercings, please.
Bill; no, really, tell us what you meant.
This is so cool; poaster goes MIA and the whole chain is now on page 4. That just goes to show you.
What do you mean, what did I mean? I meant what I said. That's what I mean. I'll be the first to admit I layer meanings deep within each poast... subtle, subliminal levels of thought, and nuance. Reading them is like peeling an onion, as each layer reveals a deeper, more substantive one..
And, yes, they can stink. And, yes, they've been known to make people cry. And not in a good way.
Ace; who knows where we'll be, once we get to page 5.
Sometimes your layers take days and several poasts to surface; sometimes they never do. Sometimes I wonder if there are actually layers there. What did he really mean? Did he mean anything at all? Is he actually trying to be that obtuse or does he really hate pandas. Are they a proxy for something else? Maybe it's the monkeys he dislikes and writes "pandas" instead so as not to offend anyone.
Someone once accused one of our younger members of poasting :o :o :o just to increase the poast count. 'Course you wouldn't have that on your agenda with a gazillion poasts already.
Bill; Mired In Arizona?
This is getting too deep for me. Hidden meanings and nuances in poasts. Oniony pandas and things.
What's Mired? Is that a place? Or did you misspell Flagstaff?
Roll on page 5........
I have no idea what Arizona meant. I've never been to Arizona. My keychain is from the Hard Rock in Phoenix; my wife got me that. But I've never been there.
Oh; I do own Ping golf clubs. They're Arizonian. But that's as close as I get.
I don't know what Bill means, half the time. Go ahead; ask me about the other half.
My grandfather (Waldo) used to drink Falstaff beer; maybe that was a typo.
Ace; I wish I knew where he was. Oh; and the panda thing: the hate is real. I've explained the history here a couple times. I could go through it again, if needed. Real deep seated hate and loathing.
Geez. Did you happen to notice the capitalized letters? Someone in this thread mentioned MIA and I just assumed they were referencing the big swamp in AZ. Clear as mud.
I think I can go another decade or so without another visit to Plymouth Rock. Although maybe you should consider creating a sticky poast somewhere so we can direct new members to it, after they ask, for the gazillionth time, "Gee, why does this guy ACE hate pandas so much?" Probably save you some typing and you could go back and read it if you get another urge to visit MA.
I heard that Waldo and Carmen S. are travelling.
Bill; somewhere in the world.
I DON'T REMEMBER CAPITAL LETTERS I WAS JUST SAMPLING NIGHTWISH ON AMAZON AFTER IGGY SAID TO SO IT'S SORT OF HARD TO HEAR ANYTHING RIGHT NOW.
You know, everytime I repeat something it's new to me.. it's like the first time, all over again. I don't mind just recreating stuff, instead of pointing and going "Over there. If you must know, go read that. Then come back, if you must."
I gotta tell ya, it took me all this time to figure out Carmen. I am not the swiftest Nike on the foot, somedays. Good one.
Ace; I wonder where in the world he came up with that.
A writer in the local newspaper this morning, notice I didn't say journalist, commenting on the Grammy selections said "It's difficult to hear the music with all the noise". I think he had a point, or two.
Bill; turn down the volume.
C'mon, feel the noize...
JOHNNY!! Dangit, it's about time. First off, I don't believe a word about the Holy Grail Margarita. It's never been seen in nature, and I take it as a myth. Plus, the 13th is probably unlucky so there you go.
Otherwise; glad your back. It's about time. With me and Bill and Buff and you here, it's like 4 or 5 people talking at once. That helps ease the voices in my head.
Ace; man, by page 5 there might be 5 or 12 people in this thing.
I think 5 is actually 12; their poasts are remarkably similar. Historically, the chatroom has offered naming conventions relating to numeric identifiers (ThatGuy1079, for instance, commemorating the date when Thag of the Northern Tribes bought his Reader's Digest Condensed version of the Magna Carta in the pretty dark ages) as well as abbreviated formats (Robt., and Bob; short for BobCat) as well as having members named after their cats (BobCat; Alex) or residence (Igloo). Or the sound someone's pet makes running into their computer (Whizbang).
I'm still thinking about that ephemeral margarita; I hope he didn't mean effeminate margarita. If it's not a manly margarita I don't want any part of it. NOt like I'm getting any part of it any time soon, mind you.
I thought the Grammys were pretty chaotic and superfluous too. I wonder if Marc and JLo sing to each other every night? I'd leave if they did. I thought the Southern Rock Tribute to Lynrd Skynrd was especially chaotic, and unattractive. Pointless, one might say. I would sooner have seen Nightwish lay down some operatic metal and pop a few eardrums. And the whole rap/hip hop nation; please... let it die. Disco finally was convinced to die. Why is this thing taking so long? Practice safe Euthanasia. Pull the plug.
Ace; those darn Asian kids.
Hey, 17, glad your back, nice to see you, sorta, welcome to the Funny Farm, again. Ace missed you and has been lamenting your absence seems like forever. Well 4 pages worth, anyway.
How does one determine the gender characteristics of a margarita? The shape of the glass, the color of the ice, maybe the shape of the cocktail napkin used for a coaster?
Bill; the "S" was probably too much information.
Whose S?
I had problems in French and German, trying to figure if words were feminine or masculine or neuter. I wasn't clear on the concept that a window might be feminine but a door could be masculine. I don't look that closely to figure inanimate objects out. And my wife keeps me from looking too close at animate ones.
I'm glad English doesn't bother with that. We've got plenty of other difficulties in this language. Including spelling.
I'm glad Johnny's back, just to stop the dang lamentation. I mean, I feel I owed him a big ol' lamentation since he made a point of noting my absence... Really, if there aren't going to be haikus or some interjection of a debate on public schools in your lamentation there's really no point in continuing with one, you know? You could probably get by with a "Hey, where's old so and so oh I hope he/she is alright and nothing bad happened and didn't get hit by the door on the way out ok on to other things". Anything more can just get tedious.
Unless you're having haikus; then bring them on. Everyone loves a good haiku fest.
Ace; swinging doors, for a reason.
"S" is part of JimS, iansl, Buffalo(s) but in this case was associated with Carmen.
I have never hought spelling has been aporblem in American. You either can or you cant; same with keyboearding. Some of us are just too picky about details. What's really the difference - your/you're,
there/their, look at the context, you get the general drift. Dang grammer usage is worst.
Bill: txt shthd is the reel diffikulty,
Well, that makes good sense. A lot of grammar is not logical. "Ain't" is a perfectly sensible construct, as a contraction of "am" and "Not" since "Amn't" is about as pronounceable as Iansl or Carskick.
I had to slap myself not to keyboard "Carsick", so hold on a minute while I regain my senses.
Ok; I'm back. They didn't return, but I'm ok without them. Anyway, having a purely phonetic language would be fine, and way more logical, BUT the problem is going to be the dang dialects we're under. Everyone has an accent. Well, except for us here in the Crossroads of America in the Magical Mystical Land of Michiana and other Midwestern locales, since we don't.
Ok, look; that was a joke and the theory (rumor) for all those newscasters who were supposed to be void of verbal distinction coming from these parts.
So, a simple sentence like "Were you able to hang out the washing today, Bobby?" would look like "Wur u abul to hang owt the washing tuday, Bobe? for a Michianan. But a Texan might go with "Wuer yu abel tu hayng ouwt the warshing tudaye, BohBee?" Or, someone from Jersey: "Fuhgeddabout da wahshing, you maroon" or Britain: "Wahr u oible teu heng owt the weshing tudoiy, BeauBay?" Or Amish: "Hang the washing outside the shed the clothesline on, Yoder." Or in InternetSpeak: "R u go ng 2 chk ur close 4 viruses, dudeBOB21705? LOL! cya" See? Unless we all talk the same, we won't have a universal way of communicating.
When communication bogs down, the Jester leads the way; Ace.
I am certainly glad you explained that, the joke part. Is the midwest known for producing famous "talking heads"?
You know, I don't but you might, I never said anything about logic or phonics. I was simply suggesting that spelling shouldn't be judged as an indicator of education mastery.
<Interject here a discussion of the efficiency and proficiency of local schools and parental responsibilities>
There is no dialect difficulty in Joisey, or for that matter, Brooklyn. Everbody udderstan's me.
Bill; wha?
Sure; heck yeah. Midwesterners are the only news anchor source. Brokaw. Jane Pauley. Letterman. Carson. All the greats. Cronkite. Brian what's his name. Not that Canadian on ABC; Jennings. He's non standard. They had to groom him for years to quit saying "Eh" and wearing plaid.
I know you never said anything about logic or phonics; I knew that's what you meant though and went ahead and filled it in for you. You don't have to thank me; it was no problem.
I drove around NY, once. To get to Rhode Island. That was close enough for me. ed. note: all of New Jersey is busy doing the Numa Numa Dance, directed by their soulmate and spiritual guide Gary Brolsma. They probably are pretty distracted right now, and should be allowed some leeway in keeping on topic today.
Spelling is an excellent indicator of educational mastery, since it's an illogical rote memorization of coded scripted heiroglyphic lithographs from a range of sources. I mean, even confirming correctness requires knowledge and correctness, since you can't even look up a word to see if it's spelled right unless you can spell it...
Hey, on that discussion question; could I just interject a Haiku instead of some dissertation on local schools and local parents? I don't have much of an opinion on that stuff anyway, so I'd rather just try to count syllables and spell correctly to look really smart.
ace; I spell most words correctly, as an indicator of having an educational masters.
Thanks for all that. It's always nice to talk to someone who knows what you mean and then finishs completes fills in your thoughts. Can be a real time saver. I may stop thinking entirely with folks like you around. Wouldn't be all that different anyway.
'Course if you use spell check, you only have to be "close". The hard part comes when you think you're close and you end up with the ever popular "no suggestions, word not found" message. Tough one, that.
Bill; my mastery is mixology.
I don't trust any technology like that; it's no match for my mind.
I could see coming up with "you only have to be clothes" after the correction...
I remember we were watching a movie at my inlaw's and someone asked "what did he say..?" and my niece answers "he said he doesn't have any pants for the summer." We corrected her that the line was actually "I don't have any plans for the summer."
If it was Travis, he wouldn't have any plants for the summer.
Language is an inexact science. An art, really. I feel we're like artists, painting the desktop with pictures made up of a thousand words. Sorta like those black velvet prints of Elvis or tigers sold around gas stations. Or the dogs playing poker, which got quite a good price. Or maybe the carpet of the Westminster Kennel Show, after. Or one of those Thomas Kinkaid prints where the light is beaming in like a nuclear device went off somewhere behind the house... Sort of like that.
Don't bother answering, because I think I know what your thoughts are that you'll be thinking. On second thought, go ahead. Heck, I like reading them even if I know the answer.
Ace; Nightwish has Finnish Thoughts.
I don't have any pants for the summer either. I wear shorts, maybe not prettty but comfortable. All of my pants are for the fall and winter.
It must be nice to be able to watch a movie at your inlaws. That way you can avoid them in silence and not be judged to be hostile. My inlaws liked to engage in
"conversation", as in talk all the time, I mean every minute, forcing one to at least pretend to pay attention. My hearing loss was always at its worst at the inlaws.
"Painters of the ethereal canvas" has a nice ring.
I prefer technology, it's a bit robotic but at least consistent. More than I can say for my mind.
Bill; and your name was?
Could we go with "ephemeral ethereal canvas.."? I get a double word score for that one.
I was hoping we'd be at page 5 by now.. this sure is taking awhile.
I wear shorts too, for almost anything. As long as it's 50 or more I'm good to go.
Temperature. 50 degrees. The other thing is not relevant.
My father in law is still alive, at 80. He can't hear much of anything. Mostly it's because he gets distracted, or isn't paying attention, more than any specific physical failing. His son is the same way.. I really get annoyed at people who say "huh?" after every single sentence... And, if you don't repeat it, you find they did hear you after all. I've also known some people at work who will do the "pardon?" or "excuse me?" ploy of making you repeat things, and you KNOW they heard you but just like the power trip of making you say it again.
I'd like to put something robotic in their pants... And set it off.
Ace; weren't there some kinda laws about robots? Is it ok for them to kill humans..?
Hi kids!
I'm barely on anymore. Work has me working from about 8PM to 5AM. So I sleep untill about 5PM and try to take care of whatever problems I can in my own basket.
hmmm... I need food.
Later.
Hi BasketCase!
I wish we had food to offer... the Poast Office says it serves coffee but over here everything is ala carte. You sure have a short free time with that schedule. Heck, you don't even make it to primetime TV... That's rough.
We appreciate any contribution you can make any time you can make it. And your efforts in helping us get Waldo to Page 5. I will say, that if time is short and you have to choose between:
1. Jaime. Jaimee. James. What's her name
2. Going out to some pool hall with that gang of yours and being the Last Guy On The Left (your right) after 5 or 12 pitchers
3. poasting here
That you'll choose to poast, here. I know it's a not-for-profit, but still you can claim it as a charity on your taxes.
Now, if Johnny and Buff and Bill and Scuzzy and Pat and Neon and Whiz and Iggy and Iany and Trav and Cmdr. Kirk and Thag ok wait you're here and Bob would stop by, man we'd have one jumping poast and it'd be
ok, wait. It'd be way too many people... and instead of me having every other poast, it'd be like every one out of 12 or 14 poasts.. that's not nearly enough of me to make it interesting.
Ok. Look, you stop by whenever you can and we'll be thrilled to see you. And bring Johnny, if you see him. And maybe one, or two, others. But that's enough. We don't want to overdo it, in here. Heh. "Don't have enough chairs for everybody..!" No.. The more, the merrier. To a point. Not past it, though.
Ace; whew, that was close. Clothes.
Not making it to prime time might be a blessing. Just consider how much enlightening entertainment he is avoiding.
Now you done it. Invited all those techie experts in here. They'll be wanting to change all the smilies smileys funny faces you can click on to AMD logos or something equally meaningful just so they look higher tech. Serves you right if they run out of coffee, not to mention the dang donuts for you know who.
And, you misspelled Captain, major.
Bill; value the silence.
It's 4AM. Do you know what your Poast entails? Do you serve a purpose, or purposely serve?
I always wax poetic at 4AM.
My girl Jaime.
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v174/Thatguy1079/Self/jaime.jpg)
I think I might 'pop the question', though I haven't reached that conclusion yet. As for being... the last guy on the left, I offer this sanity-destroying pic:
(http://img176.exs.cx/img176/559/underlight1ky.jpg)
My new digital cam, black and white, and a lamp.
Oh, it's not 4AM. it's 452AM. Huh.
Off to bed with me.
Well, good night then TG. Well, morning. Well, whatever the heck time it is to you. Jaime is lovely; tell her she's famous now and admired by millions on the web, the the Most Special And Popular Chatroom In The World. I'd almost say she's too good for you, but you look pretty good in your photo too. In kinda a bizarre, post traumatic stress "passed my bedtime" sorta way. You two make quite a striking couple; she's pretty and you look like you're ready to strike or have been struck.
It's funny; I never pictured you to be an old fashioned guy, and black and white. I know people used to be black and white; any old film clip or Mathew Brady photo can attest to that. I think it's weird that the world was black and white until the middle of the century; I think it started to turn into color right in the middle of the filming of the Wizard of Oz. All the newsreels from up through WWII were of a black and white world; even the first shows were revealing a black and white world of the 50's and early 60's. I remember when I was really young getting dressed wasn't a big problem.. heck, you're wearing grey pretty much with everything. I remember when my hair and eyes turned brown, in grade school.. what a shock to suddenly be colorful! And then the late 60's and 70's, in a color world... and some pretty darn ugly colors, going by my shirt collection then.
Of course, I regressed back to some grey... well, not much, unfortunately. But I like your "retro" look, and sure you stand out in a crowd with it. I guess you could try a shot with the lamp off, to see if that's even better.
I agree with Bill that too many techies spoil the download. And TGif can always tape Survivor and 24 and House, to watch after you get up in the time of day you get up in. Night. Wherever you are with that biological clock of yours.
Ace; maybe I could poast a self portrait. That could be scary, in the right light.
Picture must have been for Halloween. Why else would you wear a Spiderman shirt? Great lighting effects for the season.
I can remember working the 12-8 shift for a summer while in college. Really messed up my general sense of
existance. Biggest problem I recall was what to call the first and last meal of the day. Slept most of the day, up in time to have breakfast/dinner with the family and dinner/breakfast at the local diner at 8:30a. Somehow meatloaf and mashies for breakfast never really did the trick.
Bill; a self-portrait? Here we go again. Will it be Larry Bird or Big Bird this time?
My weird time zone split was a summer gig in college, when I worked 5-9 am cleaning the floors and restrooms and whom knows what at an area Montgomery Wards, then Sears, stores. I'd then work 5 to 9 pm doing phone sales for Jaycees Circus tickets. I called the middle of the daytime "limbo." (limbo up... limbo down)
I function much better with regular daytime work hours. Not well, but better. I'd just as soon have the days free, though, and not work nights.
I'm sure not going to pose in some Spiderman shirt... mostly because I don't have any. I have one yellow Hawaiian type print shirt, but that doesn't seem right in 20 degrees and snow (again).
Meatloaf and Mash sounds like a British breakfast to me... beats Haggis, anyway, or Scotch Eggs.
Ace; heck, I had Corn Bran again so what do I know about breakfast.
Phone sales? Ace was a dreaded TELEMARKETER! Probably before anyone coined the term. Was it really telegraph sales? I bet the folks in Iana wish they had a "do not call" law then. Were you also the Jaycees' star Jester, for the circus?
I can just imagine..."Good evening, how are you today? I have the last two tickets to the Jaycees' Jester Circus extravaganza, they've been selling like hotcakes, and you've been especially selected to receive an opportunity to purchase tickets for the LAST TWO SEATS! Send me two hundred dollars and I'll be sure you get these tickets for this once-in-a-lifetime-show, just in time for this evening's performance." But, wait, you can't say no to the star. Yeah, I like you too, I'll be sure to call back when the Jaycees sponsor...."
Bill; glad we have an unlisted number.
Hey! Page 5! Good job.
Yes I was a #@*@ telemarketer. Top salesman on the night shift. Went in one Saturday and competed with the Day group. Was paid in cash, every night. Got a $10 bonus if I reached quota, which I often did. Used the money to buy the engagement ring. It's worth more than the job was.
I developed similar skills in cleaning the toilets at the two stores. That was also where the floor buffer attacked me. It was also where I had a really creepy experience of working an all nighter at Sears and being alone cleaning floors, and checking the mannequins for movement... I swear some did.
The script is a little off. Mostly I appealed to the suc I mean target's sense of charity, to contribute to the noble cause of the Circus. Usually I wasn't paying that close of attention when going through my phonebook page of the night. It was easier, that way.
I think That Guy ought to pop the question, in the chatroom. And Jaime could sign in and reply. Then we could pipe in with our opinions. That'd be a first, for Poasters!!
Ace; and last. Maybe for Page 6.
What a wonderful story to tell your kids or grand kids. "Your Grandma and I proposed in a chatroom called the Funny Farm. I got down on one knee in front of my keyboard and 19"superspecial LCD monitor..."
Geez. Next you'll be wantin' pictures from the honeymoon.
You misspelled pomegranate. No, it doesn't matter which thread. I don't remember which thread. I just know you did, I think.
Bill; why wait for page 6?
Quote from: Buffalo2102 on February 16, 2005, 14:23 hrs
Roll on page 5........
Honeymoon pictures would be nice. I volunteer to tag along and take the pictures as the happy couple would obviously have their hands full. You know.....suitcases.
Well, here we are at page 5 and it doesn't feel any different. Any better.
5 or 12 popped in briefly, nice of him. The rare, nocturnal TG also. Other than that, it's just Ace, Bill and the occasional comment from yours truly.
The Funny Bone is beginning to remind me of Invasion Of The Body Snatchers. People are gradually disappearing but when they do reappear, they are just not the same somehow.......
I'm not going to sleep well tonight.
I don't sleep well when I'm here, either.
See, the thing is when two or more of us are gathered at The Bone it's like a real crowd, due to the multiple personalities and companions and their photos and large rented canine pets and neighbors and celebrity photo shoots plus caped crusaders/bovines and the universe at large, as far as today's galaxy photo op. So, it can be quite a crowd with just one or two of us, let alone 3+ or 12.
Also, JimS is a bunch of people surrounded by blondes, so that's a quorum right there.
I dispute the mispelled "Pomegranete" accusation. I don't recall ever mentioning one, let alone incorrectly. I will admit that, if I had, I don't foresee myself getting through its spelling unscathed.
Plus, guys, remember it's not "what you say" it's "how much." You don't accumulate a zillion poasts here and a special commemorative star for practicing restraint and poastal conservatism.
Ace; keep in mind too that you can make someone quote or repeat an entire poast just by yelling "HUH?" at the end of it.
HUH?
Bill; say what?
Johnny! Bill did the H___ word! Gettim!
And then you have to repeat your poast; or back to "go" and lose a turn. Oh, and send each player $50. Start with me.
Ace; this could become an epic poast/pyramid scheme before its over. If we could get pizza and haikus in here it could be the Armageddon Poast.
Someone else will have to do the hycus- I can't write them or spell it.
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v243/foxybill/Pizza-801286.jpg)
Bill; no peanutbutter please.
"Ace's typos might actually be verbos, as in verBose.
No, not Bose Wave Radio!
I din say dat." doesn't qualify as a hycu, I think.
Nevermind the new and improved. The front door here says "new". What's new? The year maybe.
New names or handles, for certain.
Leggs is spelled with 2 "g"s, just ask any of the fairer gender, BTW.
Nice to have you around, if only for a moment, even if its "gonzo".
Bill, is Ace on leave?
Gee, here's my hat what's my hurry...
But the pizza looks good. Maybe Thag could grab a snack instead of sleep.
Ace; I seldom do the wave listening to radio, unless it's YMCA.
Marge? Is that Margerine? Marge Simpson?
Marg? Any of the above? Margharita? Oh, yes. It must be Pizza Margharita, since you were talking about Pizza earlier on.
(http://imagehost.darkernet.co.uk/i/Pizza.jpg)
Or maybe it was the island of Margarita?
(http://imagehost.darkernet.co.uk/i/Isla-Margarita-0433.jpg)
Or was it the drink, Margarita? Frozen or not?
(http://imagehost.darkernet.co.uk/i/margarita121.jpg)
So many possibilities....... ???
I could see flying across the Atlantic with Johnny as the Last Thing On Earth I'd Ever Do. I'd have to think it would be.
I haven't traveled since the last time we crossed Ohio and I had to turn around and come back since you couldn't.
Pizza Margharita on the island of Margarita sipping a blue Margarita. Paid for by Pat. That would be paradise. Now, I agree with 2x4 I mean 5x12's explanation of Margarita sex, but I can't recall ever knowing a guy named Marg. I think the bass player in Nightwish might be named Margh... being Finnish, and all. Is it a "hard G" sound? Or soft, like in Marge? Rhyme with "Arrgh"?
Hey; that could work; a Pirate named Marghhh... "Aye, and here's my Parrot, Rarghhh..." Arrgh.
Johhny the Pirate; Banned from the Air. Now On The Air. Here, There, and Everywhere.
Ace; Johnny leaves a slip stream... and a con trail. I mean that in a nice way!
Oh, it's just us alright.
Ok. That'll help if I try to use it, in a Haiku.
And glad you're back to being yourself. That's great.
Ace; cool. Now I can use that 5 or 12 thing I thought up.
Small margaritas are really better. Giant ones have too much ice and get quickly diluted before you get anywhere near the bottom.
Speaking of diluted....
I used to know a lady that drank vodka with one ice cube. The drink would usually arrive with the glass full of ice. She would politely ask the server to wait and fished out all the ice but one cube and literally hand them to the waiter, with a "thank you".
Bill; cold hands, warm heart.
It was the origin of ice scooping. Generallly waiting for a fish to swim into the hole and then....
Speaking of ice, I used to know a lady.....
Bill; Mondays are loopy.
You can catch frozen fish if you go ice fishing. Mrs. Paul is usually planted out on the lake on a stool...
Have you ever had crab legs?
Ace; did you wear long pants to hide them...?
The jokes are supposed to be about doctors, and it's the other thread. Not that it matters. Jesters do what they want anyway.
I don't walk sideways, either.
Owner of a scooper.
I know he's lurking out there, watching for some sign of his disappearance. Wondering if anyone will notice him missing. Like someone still in the john at the service station, as the station wagon pulls away and suddenly there's more room, but no one can figure out why...
Yes. Dangit, I have Noticed Your Absence Ohio One. And Yearn For Your Return, Oh Great Master Of The non sequiter Link And Old Photos Of Your Island Home And other People. And Plays On Words, With Words. And Weather Reports From That Other End of the World; that being the other side of Ohio.
I Hereby Declare Johnny Missing, and Missed. I owe him that, since he always says something whenever I go into hiding, and so I too shall Watch Out For Him. And His Imminent Return.
Not Eminem return. NOt M&M Return. Just good old fashioned get back in there with some slam on doctors/joke return.
Ok. I shall light a candle, and stare forlornly out my window, waiting and watching...
Well, because Murphy got a new motorcycle. I gotta figure he's either gonna kill himself, or dig up his yard, or lose it and nail Beverly's Cavalier, or do something stupid soon enough. I don't want to miss it, so I'll be on the LOOKOUT. That's one of my jobs, here.
ace; if Johnny comes back while I'm scoping out Murphy, tell him to hang tight and I'll be back eventually.
Maybe Johnny fell off the edge of Ohio. The earth ends on the far side, doesn't it? Maybe "fell' is wrong. Maybe "went over" would be more accurate. I always kinda thought he was on the edge or verge. But, yes, we'll LOOKOUT for him and provide him comfort and meds if we see him.
These days "lighting a candle" means turning on a switch, and for that, the donation is a dollar. Talk about a money maker - 21/2 cents worth of electricity, the dang thing is already fully depreciated- they were donated to begin with- pure profit.
Bill; maybe I should start my own.
I guess you could fall into Pennsylvania. Except you'd have to fall up.
Murphy, living in a Bizzarro backwards world:
Drives up on his cycle, sans helmet. That might help explain the following.
Rolls the spreader out to the end of the driveway, carrying the bag of fertilizer.
Opens the bag and dumps the fertilizer in. Why he didn't do that, at the garage, escapes me. The thing has a control to make it dump, so it's not like he has to spread it down the drive while he walks...
Tosses the bag over the split rail corner fence.
Begins to walk the walk with the spreader, around the perimeter.
Comes back to the fence; grabs the bag. Reads it.
Goes in.
I should grab a bag of the crabgrass preventative, and do that soon. We've already greened, this past week. Last year I did the first feeding and had to do the dandelion dump about a week later... I'll actually have to mow it soon. I hope the thing works. Or the snowblower/tiller, at least.
Ace; better than shoveling. Especially if I'm having pancakes.
Maybe he realized he didn't understand "overlap" and went look it up.
Spreaders have gotten pretty high tech. I had to choose between a "drop speader"and a "broadcast" variety. Figuring I certainly wanted the neighbors to know I am taking care of my lawn, I chose the "broadcast" version.
Just to let everyone know. Then I had to adjust the BIOs according to the AGP aperture instructions on the dang bag.
Choosing the right bag of stuff was another difficult choice. Step 1 has a strong virus protection feature but inhibits "Germination". "Step 0" enhances the color options but has no A/V protection. Knowing that I am planning to add new features and I certainly want them to initialize, I finally selected the "Starter" stuff, which has the color enhancement features and some limited protection that can be augmented later with supplementary supporting applications. Although, I think I am beyond needing an Entry-level, simplistic choice. I did, after all, just successfully build a new, cost-conscious, system.
Bill; maybe I should just let it "revert."
Mine's a drop. I could see working it if it had a BIOS. I mean, it does... it's pretty basic. Anyone could figure it out, besides Murphy. Input through the top, output through the bottom. Set the cylinder gauge to the number on the bag, for your type. Walk around with it. Get it on your shoes.
Now, if it had a BIOS Bios, I'd go in there, play around with it, wind up having it crash. Into my car.
Hey; Murphy just drove in. I'll let you know if he does anything startling. He almost pinned himself against his house, walking around his car door. While it was open.
Ace; I feel like Jimmy Stewart in "Front Window."
BTW, "fell off the edge of Ohio. The earth ends on the far side," the far side for me is the California side so he wouldn't be falling into Penn. up or down-more likely the mythical, magical abyss called Michiana - to stay on topic for a moment.
Murphy watching, the latest craze:
http://tinyurl.com/3jdn5
Murphy's pretty shapely, for a guy!
Ordinarily, some wisecrack about having a life would surface about now, but then, I'm here, too.
Bill; where else?
Nice shot. Good lense. I know size doesn't matter, but that one's aight. I've got a serious one on the SLR, but not to that massiveness. Actually, I'm looking to get a digital with a 10x, as a more primo camera and use the A70 for just snapshots.
Murphy is not shapely. Not by any stretch of the imagination.
I had to go to training in Kalamazoo today. "I've got a gal...". I rarely cross over the boundary into Michigan. They're an hour ahead. (and a few decades behind...).
Ok, honestly, I have not a darn thing to say. I mean, nothing much occurred today, I can't think of any great take-off on Hitchcock films, and I've no stupid witty observations of life to share. I'm tapped. Sorry; some days you just breathe through your mouth, and go "Huhh." a lot.
Ace; huhh.
'S OK Daryle. Some days are like that. What could anyone possibly teach you in a place called Kalamazoo? Isn't that a funky musical instrument?
Me too.
bill; even the Shift key has run out of stuff.
Yes.
ace; yeah
I've kicked the Monarch on occasion, while spinning the wrong way in my desk chair.
I envy anyone who can be a QuadGeek. I can't even manage MonoGeek. Although I did have mono, once, and I can do without a fever like that.
There sure is more to clean-up around here with Johnny back. Sweeping 3 poasts in the morning is a lot, even for a Janitor. I didn't even get to yell LOOKOUT!!! JOHNNY SNUCK BACK IN!! He was just "here" and poasts sprang back to life and puppies appeared in the clutches of small boys and the dumb talked and
Hold it. That was me, again. Oh, and Bill changed his Avatar again but I'm too lazy to right now plus I don't have any interesting photos of anything stashed anyway that everyone isn't already sick of seeing. I could try to take a self portrait in the mirror with a bulb, like Trav. That could empty out the room, and make it easier to damp mop.
Ace; I wonder if they have Bali Ballet Belly Dancers.
Have you noticed a that "rn' looks alot like"m"? Makes "darn" look like a questionably acceptable poast; or a wet one, at the very least.
QuadGeek? Someone with 4 monitors or someone who has successfully set up 'surround sound' on the computer? No, I guess that would be a 5.1 geek.
I have finally found a way to tame Fido. Garlic! No wonder he hates mirrors.
Bill; going to try a stake next time I have a problem.
I am an Advisor.
I am an Professional Advisor.
That is my profession. I profess. It is.
Bill and I am not "both sides of the same coin." He is heads, and tails. I am the Edge. He is the Yin, and Yang. I am the Yo.
Yo.
See? Told you so. Yo.
Ace; that's almost a Haiku.
http://tinyurl.com/8775l
We are only as we are.
Yo! yo. We have our ups and downs.
And Contentious? I am not even controversial. I am a consultant, an opinionated consultant, at that. It's what I do.
Bill; I hate Hykus. They never make sense.
And, I can't write them.
Well, you should write more of them, then. Practice makes misery.
I had "consultant" on one business card, for awhile. The place thought it would make us sound more business-like. Teacher. Counselor. Advisor. Consultant. I guess it all comes down to one core purpose:
Tell other people what to do.
Whatever you call it, that works for me. And I don't have to listen, if I don't want to. Let alone do it. I'm there for others, to tell them. I'm a Guide. Whom I don't have to follow. Or heed. 'What do you think?' I ask. 'What do you want to do?' 'Here are your options; what would you like?'
Sometimes the 'customer' will ask; "What do YOU think?" Hmm...
What do I think... I think lunch is soon. If not, I'll think about why it isn't.
It's ironic. One of life's mysteries. "The panda, or the stick?" Yeah.
ace; that's a combination of "inane" and "moronic".
The other question I like to use is "How does it feel to be so indecisive?"
Closely followed by "After you make up your mind, come back and see me."
Guiding is fun, as long as you don;t take it too seriously. Hey, it;s not your life.
If they're smart enough to be here, they oughta be able to figure it out.
Bill; "Excuse me, our 2 1/2 minute hour is up. Time for lunch."