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Wed 11 Aug, 2004 07:24 pm
Ok, I am sitting here, smoking a bowl of hash and sipping on a cold Heineken as I peruse the latest offerings from my A2K brethren. The speakers on the top of my computer blare out "When the Music's Over", by the Doors.
I struggle to comprehend some of the deeper offerings thrown out by the erudite members. Politics, religion, and philosopy are thrown at me. It's almost too much. The music gets louder and louder, the hash swirls throught the air, and the beer runs down my chin as I try to find something, anything, that will put me at ease. Something to soothe my soul.
And then I see it. An offering from littlek. I read it. Again and again.
Beautiful words that flow like a gentle mountain stream.
One little owl says 'hoo hoo'
two little owls say 'hooo hooo'
three little owls say ' hooo hooooo'
as they sat in the old oak treeeee.
I would like to take the time to personally thank littlek for snapping me out of my reverie.
I came dangerously close to going over the edge, but her words pulled me back to the calm.
So, thanks, littlek.
I owe you one.
<deep bow>
Shall I sing again?
God, you're a funny old bastard.
Encore, Little k, Encore!
(Clapping madly)
Okiedokie
You're my little potato,
you're my little potato,
you're my little potato,
dug you up, you come from underground.
Your world is big,
so big.
It's very big.
It's new,
to you.
It's new to you.
You're my little potato,
you're my little potato,
you're my little potato,
dug you up, you come from under ground.
Let's talk about food crops
and lamb chops
and things you eat
like apples and cheese,
bananas and cream,
jellies and buttah.
(It's late at night I hope this little song will make you go to sleep)
They must have grown you well,
to make a grown-man child.
I want to play in the mud,
to be with you my spud (potato).
When you came out looking red as a beet,
you had wrinkles on the bottoms of your feet
wo-oh-wo you're so sweet, potato
You're my sweet potato
dug you up,
you come from under ground.
You smile
a smile,
a little smile.
Your world is small,
so small.
It's very small.
I am weeping; I am so happy.
Littlek is like the nightingale whose beautiful voice calms the savage beast and lulls him to sleep.
So tired now..... so very sleepy.
Well, I'm glad those lullabyes work on someone.
Oh be still my heart. Littlek, that was beautiful (sigh)!
The legend of littlek grew. Tales of her voice spread throughout the land. People talked in whispered conversations.
Littlek is in town.
Littlek is over at A2K!
She sang ol' Ratzenhofer to sleep!
Soon the populace arose en masse and headed to town, to hear the voice, the poetry, the legend..... littlek.
They gathered and listened.
And they were in awe....
That doesn't look so much like awe as it does like rapture. Or maybe boredom.
BBB
Sort of looks like they are sitting on a 3-hole outdoor potty and the perfume is overwhelming.
BBB
Now this is a beautiful thread. It made me laugh, it made me cry, it...well, it touched me...<sniffle>...that was just beautiful, littlek...<sniffle>...oh damn, now I'm getting all emotional...don't look at me!
<bursts into tears and runs from the room>
Wow, you brought Kicky to tears, little k. It must be all those potatoes in his past. You brought them right back.
Re: BBB
BumbleBeeBoogie wrote:Sort of looks like they are sitting on a 3-hole outdoor potty and the perfume is overwhelming.
Erm, so why are they holding hands?
Btw, where did you remove the hat from ?
! That's... not the nicest way to imagine those people (but an accurate one nonetheless!) 
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