Reply
Tue 24 May, 2005 09:16 pm
I was just asittin' here, havin' a little ol' meatloaf sammich an a half gallon of Sprite, when it hit like a wall of water.
Next thing i knew, i was alayin' on the floor, atwitchin' an' . . . an' . . . oh no . . . he's back . . .
Thou'rt lieing in the manure pile, Brother, move thy backside or get thee a shovel, but don't just lie there . . .
Sister Sophonsiba is making thee thy wittles, so best thou earn'st thy bread in the sweat of thy brow . . .
. . . ohohohoh . . . where am i . . . huh? . . . yeah, yeah, that was it, some Quaker farm hand from Pennsylvania three hundred years ago takes over, an' i just black out . . .
Another case of meatloaf overdose.
Setanta, ya might want to try cutting down on your portions a bit.
Sublime! Good to see you!
ohohohohohohohohoh . . .
Why hast thou bidden me . . .
What, what's this . . . a talking dog and two blind men in cheap, off-the-rack suits . . . GET THEE BEHIND ME SATAN ! ! !
SISTER SOPHONSIBA, GET THEE A PITCHFORK AND COMEST THOU QUICKLY ! ! !
Damn you are channeling!, uh any words of wisdom you can send forth, like how the cubs can make it to the series?
<thanks littlek, been away, good to see you too>
Thinkest thou that my mother bore me yesterday, blind fools ?
For, yeah it is written . . . and they came down into the land of Moab, and lo, they were smitten with a slump, and the Lord spake unto them, saying "When Hell freezeth over, fools."
And sore betide were they, and wept they throughout the seventh inning stretch, but Harry Carry was no more, and darkness was on the face of the bleachers . . .
Quick !
Someone fetch the bromo. He still has half a sammich to finish.
And now a talking kitten with a blunderbuss ? ! ? ! ?
Oh, sore beset am i, for the Lord of Deceivers is surely upon me.
Why hast thou come to torment me, Kitten ? Have i not always tithed my meager portion ? Have i not attended upon every Sabbath day meeting ?
Know'st thou not that we eschew violence, oh fiendish Kitten ? Put away thy arms, and come speak'st thou to me of the end of days.
ohohohohohohohohohoh . . .
Wha . . . what ?
Oh no . . . he came back, didn't he . . .
Ooooo . . . meatloaf sammich . . . anybody got any Sprite?
Here ya go, just lie down cross your hands over you chest and you should be fine.
You're a pip, Boss . . . say, did that guy have any good news about the Cubbies ?
Depends on what the temperature in hell is. I was at the game tonight and things are looking good at the moment.
Well, when Old Nick starts sharpening his skates, i suspect we can look forward to good news . . .
Hopefully spontaneous snowball fights and pick up games of ice hockey are erupting as we speak.
If that clown comes back, see if you can get any info on how the American League is gonna shape up, 'K?
Re: CHANNELING: FANTASY? OR FICTION?
Setanta wrote:I was just asittin' here, havin' ...a half gallon of Sprite, when it hit like a wall of water..
That explains a lot.
What color is your urine? Kicky told me to ask you?
Do they have urine in the afterlife?
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