ghost, blue, donner, levi are known aliases of glad all talking to each other, hoping somebody wanders in
quinn (saying "crapspeak", which glad says to himself) and gasket (what a coincidence, just romping through minutes after this incoherency is posted) appear, losing count of the nonpeople in here
mighty few actual people in here
mighty lame exercise going on
if you're not glad and you're in this thread, get out, the call is coming from inside the house
You're the only person that has come here to criticize this post. We were doing fine on our own. What's your beef? You can think what you want. But why spread negative thoughts here?
I asked spam to drop in and spread some negativity because the positivity was getting out of hand. And it said get out if you're not me, so beat it and leave me alone with myself.
And blue guy. What's this I hear about how articleman ran you off? If he ran you off, how come you came back? You better be careful.
Articleman didn't run me off, it was another. How weird to have someone follow me to threads and "out" me. Though articleman has a new idea that no one should "promote" their own work. I was going to point out the huge support of your citjour project by our tribe, but, he's a lawyer so I thought maybe he would figure it out.
I find a certain *squareness* in the 'nauts as a tribe.
We're happy over here. Had a good time amongst our crowd. A couple of new faces. Very pleasant. Someone thinks the quinn esq
kid is you. He's from Canada. Man, he doesn't know what he's in for on that.
I can't get over how square some of these people are. Right now, I'm trying to imagine a topic that would really make a difference in their lives. You know what I didn't figure about Obama? How really boring he and his message are.
I would say "go to Hell" -
Better yet, re-check the spell.
dude ! Why so mad. It's kinda calm and funny over here. I liked your poem.
;)
there you go... how about this :)
I hardly know how I did that. Can't think of a name for you. Path.
No. Whatever. I like your pic. Flowing, really. Looks good in the pic-form.
Winding Road.
most of the parts are filled at this moment, gasket, but your rep had a lot of cred. Who's your agent?
I am.
Gasket wants to be handin' out pamphlets. Constitutions &such. Regular English newsboy, he is. Seems there's few buyers lately.
But he'll shout for cash. Show us yer money. (I'm in for 30%.)
Well, Billy. I came here as a 'naut and was cured. I'm in a wait- and see -mode and hoping for the best. I still like him and think he's going to do well. But who knows? It's one thing to support Obama, and quite another to row like you're a 'naut slave.
Yes, he's the stiff guy in the corner drinking ginger ale that can't quite figure out the music.
Think Chauncey in "Being There" except with more self-awareness and media skills.
So you're sayin' he's somewhere between Fast Eddie and Chauncey? Why do I feel like we're not narrowing it down much here?
We are large, we contain motley dudes.
3 pts fer the pun'll getcha 3 pints fer anon.
thass me.
But Chancey had a garden
Totally Chauncey. Jerzy Kosinski.
Yeah, maybe. But you come across as a sanctimonious cunt, so who give a shit what you think?
Billy Glad: Why don't you go fart in a jar and sniff it? I think that would make you exceedingly happy.
BillY Glad, you are a complete dickhead. Did I mention that already? You lost because you didn't have the GUTS to fight. You lost because you think you can HINT at what you believe, and that what you believe in is clearly right. But the fact is, what you truly believe is total CRAP. You lost because the image of what you think you are overrides reality. But only for you. The rest of us never believed it in the first place. I jusr traveled 1500 miles to celebrate the birthday of a friend. That's what life is all about. Do you get it, Billy Glad?
Maybe if you weren't so obnoxious you could find a friend closer than 1500 miles.
Hint: did your parents have to tie a steak around your neck to get the dogs to even play with you?
NO PERSONAL ATTACKS. Don't you get it chimp !
New policy. Be nice. *hug* LOL
I'm considering asking TPM to take away your avatar as offensive, and also because we don't know who you are, or were and there have been accusations of some relationship, or meeting, or conspiracy with KNOWN offenders of various things we will not stand for in America.
So I ask you now:
HAVE YOU NOW OR EVER BEEN________________(space here for fill -ins__________________(Crap-speak) __________________ !
And if you don't believe me, I've retained ArticleObamaMan to sue you.
Dig it, you fragment, you toad, you __________space for fill ins_________________
BigBadJoe 1984
Spam. Come on. At least keep the alter-identities straight. You've got them all mixed up.
That was a neat trick DONNERPASS, pretending to "leave" for a day.
a cunning stunt.
you can't beat the white and green colors wafting down the thread.
Why? You thinkin?
I'm a vile thing, quinn. I don't want to hurt your feelings. So, where's the trail?
hard to sneak up on us Quinnie...we got all these trails covered.
But the boys in the bunk house are interested in what kind of tracker you might be.
We are the last of the Hyperboreans. The snow holds no trails, ahead or behind.
The coyotes and I roam these canyons and squares,
our long, ragged coats sweep the streets
as we wander.
We are the Cherokee Curse
upon the American Mall,
pursuing the Trail with magic
and soft padded paw.
The coyotes stop to breathe on a store window,
warm tongues on cold glass
write the revolutionary word:
Communion.
As a wider man once said.
Wow, oh bald head with exposed hard and soft palates. I want what you're smokin' !
We are stakes through the eye of fashion,
and our bride is squalor.
I don't know. It's probably something that eats right through your soft tissue.
I got about 20 pounds of soft tissue I wouldn't mind it eatin through.
ok quinny
you be on some trail we ain't seeing...yet
back on this later...
Trapper Quinn,
We welcome you to the campfire. But we don't speak no frenchie, 'cept the few words of the trade language. Is it true that you don't sing or fiddle american? We'd like that, if we know the words, and
even if we cain't knowem. Could you give us a tune now, and parlay the american fer us?
I once knew a girl. We met every morning in a little cafe. A greasy one. Eggs and sausage, toast and coffee every morning. The authorities tried to close it down on us. She stopped 'em. Damned if they would've listened to me. She used to talk to Americans. But they were kinda afraid, what with her red hair and all. So.
To turn away a woman like that? Well, after that, I figured they'd never listen to a fool such as me. Nothin to do but wait for em to work it out. Work the poison out. It didn't get there by itself.
quinn, I find this hard to say, but speaking as a head with a head for chaos, i don't have a clue what this is about. Is it the girl? Stumped by chaos on my own chaotic blog.
The song or the story?
Ok. The story. Maybe Spam & Co. will figure out I'm not you. (Or you. Or you.) They seem to have a hard time with the idea that one man might have more than one story. Since their lives seem to lack some juice, I'll be literal here. I sometimes have to be, though it's a dreadful comedown from the people we need to be. But if Spam and Barefooted come back this way and are still having a hard time figuring it out, well... that's their loss. I'm tired. I can spare one story. Life has many, done properly.
I spent most of 1996-2002 in London. Big times, much to do politically, etc. Blair was coming. And I'd promised to come back, just to help reverse the works of Maggie. So I did.
I lived near the Heath. Hampstead Heath. There was a little cafe, down at the foot of Parliament Hill and South End Road. Called Polly's. Here. Look. Come on in.
It was a greasy spoon. Perfect for me. So I'd fall down the hill every morning for coffee etc. Turned out it was also the haunt of Annie Lennox. Same Mendes. Minghella. Made for interesting chats. Mendes was doing American Beauty.
Thus, Annie's "the girl." When in the Eurythmics, her sexuality scared the shit out of people. The red short hair and all. When the Council tried to close Polly's down for some stupid licensing thing, Annie organized the response. We won.
The English struggle with America, and what it means. The song was her video on the end of a love affair. With America. the love's still there, but the horror got pretty thick for a while.
I'm not a riddler. Myth, I get.
But fuckitalltohell. My blood's from America. Fucking Mayflower. Fuller's. My family's back in America now. I'm not, as of yet. Decisions to make. But I feel it. And if you can't see the look in Annie's face, ricking herself in pain, in the back of that cab, and get what this has all meant to people... well. I kinda run out of words. And now.... when there's the slightest sniff of hope... to see the morons, as one-dimensional as ever, still not having figured out that THAT'S why the ship got captained by a fool, to not get that the cubic souls they've created are the very problem, and now, all of them clustering in to close hope off.... It kills me.
Do not mistake me. I think Obama carries a great deal in this time. So much so that in fact I'm sure he will fail and sink under the waves from time to time. We'll see if he also rises. Which is precisely why the dull would do well to understand myth.
There. I'm unlikely to be this literal again. Christ, I hope I don't have to be.
Good ol' Camden, if I'd only known which corner to hunker into I'd have been famous, or brushed with fame. Instead I chose Hackney, and what did they give me? A Cab. And a good pint with chips. Now I have a Camden exile here, no better for the travel - he's turned into a werewolf. Probably Polly's fault as well.
Hackney, Des? Used to hang at London Fields. Albion Drive. Colombia Market. Many friends there. Election Night, in fact. Ahhhh, that was glorious. "Like A Rolling Stone" snarling out windows at 2 am when Maggie's crew went down. How does it feeeeeel? Had to move to the Heath, Hackney got no tube. Had everything else though.
Funny, I have a brilliant bootleg of Like A Rolling Stone from Albert Hall that I bought in Camden Market only to discover later that the nice stark stereo sound vanishes about 18 seconds later into a mush mono mess. But the beginning is beautiful.
And THAT wins the prize as "Best Description Of Tony Blair."
I'm bein' cruel. He did a lot. For a lot longer than 18 seconds.
But at some point... nothin' but static in that boy's head.
He's the political equivalent of the Thompson Twins - there's only so much of that you can take before you come out looking like a... poodle?
who are the Thompson twins?
T-Twins. Sad story from youngr days. Boy meets girl. Find twinship. Stare into others eyes. Twins meet synthesizer. They connect. Hold me now, they sing. Synthesizer does. Twins assimilated. Much lunch money is saved, but song remains the same. Tragedy often repeated amongst the Eurotrash peoples.
was it a Korg or at least a Roland?
King Roland, not Rothgar.
There was a young girl named Annie
Who exposed a bit much of her fanny
(While the Yanks say "her crotch",
It was only a splotch,
But the fame that it brought was uncanny).
Wasn't she a Brit an needing therapy?
No...bad delivery there damn it.
Try something like "Britten Needs" and make a face also, as if you have *noticed* the missing undergarments.
Now I'm thinking of Britney and her knees and that really horrid snatch shot. Water, I need water....
Beware, lest you stare too long into the abyss....
Uh...OK
June 22, 2008 3:31 PM | Reply | Permalink
Highly recommended. ;-D
June 22, 2008 3:33 PM | Reply | Permalink
ghost, blue, donner, levi are known aliases of glad all talking to each other, hoping somebody wanders in
quinn (saying "crapspeak", which glad says to himself) and gasket (what a coincidence, just romping through minutes after this incoherency is posted) appear, losing count of the nonpeople in here
mighty few actual people in here
mighty lame exercise going on
if you're not glad and you're in this thread, get out, the call is coming from inside the house
June 22, 2008 8:53 PM | Reply | Permalink
You're the only person that has come here to criticize this post. We were doing fine on our own. What's your beef? You can think what you want. But why spread negative thoughts here?
June 22, 2008 9:08 PM | Reply | Permalink
I asked spam to drop in and spread some negativity because the positivity was getting out of hand. And it said get out if you're not me, so beat it and leave me alone with myself.
And blue guy. What's this I hear about how articleman ran you off? If he ran you off, how come you came back? You better be careful.
June 22, 2008 10:30 PM | Reply | Permalink
Articleman didn't run me off, it was another. How weird to have someone follow me to threads and "out" me. Though articleman has a new idea that no one should "promote" their own work. I was going to point out the huge support of your citjour project by our tribe, but, he's a lawyer so I thought maybe he would figure it out.
I find a certain *squareness* in the 'nauts as a tribe.
We're happy over here. Had a good time amongst our crowd. A couple of new faces. Very pleasant. Someone thinks the quinn esq
kid is you. He's from Canada. Man, he doesn't know what he's in for on that.
June 22, 2008 11:34 PM | Reply | Permalink
I can't get over how square some of these people are. Right now, I'm trying to imagine a topic that would really make a difference in their lives. You know what I didn't figure about Obama? How really boring he and his message are.
June 22, 2008 11:59 PM | Reply | Permalink
I would say "go to Hell" -
Better yet, re-check the spell.
June 23, 2008 12:17 AM | Reply | Permalink
dude ! Why so mad. It's kinda calm and funny over here. I liked your poem.
June 23, 2008 12:22 AM | Reply | Permalink
;)
June 23, 2008 12:23 AM | Reply | Permalink
there you go... how about this :)
I hardly know how I did that. Can't think of a name for you. Path.
No. Whatever. I like your pic. Flowing, really. Looks good in the pic-form.
June 23, 2008 12:29 AM | Reply | Permalink
Winding Road.
June 23, 2008 10:05 AM | Reply | Permalink
most of the parts are filled at this moment, gasket, but your rep had a lot of cred. Who's your agent?
June 23, 2008 11:36 AM | Reply | Permalink
I am.
Gasket wants to be handin' out pamphlets. Constitutions &such. Regular English newsboy, he is. Seems there's few buyers lately.
But he'll shout for cash. Show us yer money. (I'm in for 30%.)
June 23, 2008 12:24 PM | Reply | Permalink
Well, Billy. I came here as a 'naut and was cured. I'm in a wait- and see -mode and hoping for the best. I still like him and think he's going to do well. But who knows? It's one thing to support Obama, and quite another to row like you're a 'naut slave.
June 23, 2008 12:25 AM | Reply | Permalink
Yes, he's the stiff guy in the corner drinking ginger ale that can't quite figure out the music.
Think Chauncey in "Being There" except with more self-awareness and media skills.
June 23, 2008 3:03 AM | Reply | Permalink
So you're sayin' he's somewhere between Fast Eddie and Chauncey? Why do I feel like we're not narrowing it down much here?
June 23, 2008 3:29 AM | Reply | Permalink
We are large, we contain motley dudes.
June 23, 2008 3:46 AM | Reply | Permalink
3 pts fer the pun'll getcha 3 pints fer anon.
thass me.
June 23, 2008 12:26 PM | Reply | Permalink
But Chancey had a garden
June 23, 2008 9:10 AM | Reply | Permalink
Totally Chauncey. Jerzy Kosinski.
June 23, 2008 10:13 AM | Reply | Permalink
Yeah, maybe. But you come across as a sanctimonious cunt, so who give a shit what you think?
June 23, 2008 10:36 PM | Reply | Permalink
Billy Glad: Why don't you go fart in a jar and sniff it? I think that would make you exceedingly happy.
June 23, 2008 9:20 PM | Reply | Permalink
BillY Glad, you are a complete dickhead. Did I mention that already? You lost because you didn't have the GUTS to fight. You lost because you think you can HINT at what you believe, and that what you believe in is clearly right. But the fact is, what you truly believe is total CRAP. You lost because the image of what you think you are overrides reality. But only for you. The rest of us never believed it in the first place. I jusr traveled 1500 miles to celebrate the birthday of a friend. That's what life is all about. Do you get it, Billy Glad?
June 23, 2008 10:12 PM | Reply | Permalink
Maybe if you weren't so obnoxious you could find a friend closer than 1500 miles.
Hint: did your parents have to tie a steak around your neck to get the dogs to even play with you?
June 24, 2008 2:48 AM | Reply | Permalink
NO PERSONAL ATTACKS. Don't you get it chimp !
New policy. Be nice. *hug* LOL
I'm considering asking TPM to take away your avatar as offensive, and also because we don't know who you are, or were and there have been accusations of some relationship, or meeting, or conspiracy with KNOWN offenders of various things we will not stand for in America.
So I ask you now:
HAVE YOU NOW OR EVER BEEN________________(space here for fill -ins__________________(Crap-speak) __________________ !
And if you don't believe me, I've retained ArticleObamaMan to sue you.
Dig it, you fragment, you toad, you __________space for fill ins_________________
BigBadJoe 1984
June 24, 2008 5:05 PM | Reply | Permalink
Spam. Come on. At least keep the alter-identities straight. You've got them all mixed up.
June 23, 2008 2:30 AM | Reply | Permalink
That was a neat trick DONNERPASS, pretending to "leave" for a day.
June 23, 2008 9:11 AM | Reply | Permalink
a cunning stunt.
June 23, 2008 9:22 PM | Reply | Permalink
you can't beat the white and green colors wafting down the thread.
June 24, 2008 5:09 PM | Reply | Permalink
Why? You thinkin?
June 22, 2008 3:47 PM | Reply | Permalink
I'm a vile thing, quinn. I don't want to hurt your feelings. So, where's the trail?
June 22, 2008 3:57 PM | Reply | Permalink
hard to sneak up on us Quinnie...we got all these trails covered.
But the boys in the bunk house are interested in what kind of tracker you might be.
June 22, 2008 4:01 PM | Reply | Permalink
We are the last of the Hyperboreans. The snow holds no trails, ahead or behind.
The coyotes and I roam these canyons and squares,
our long, ragged coats sweep the streets
as we wander.
We are the Cherokee Curse
upon the American Mall,
pursuing the Trail with magic
and soft padded paw.
The coyotes stop to breathe on a store window,
warm tongues on cold glass
write the revolutionary word:
Communion.
As a wider man once said.
June 22, 2008 4:26 PM | Reply | Permalink
Wow, oh bald head with exposed hard and soft palates. I want what you're smokin' !
June 22, 2008 4:50 PM | Reply | Permalink
We are stakes through the eye of fashion,
and our bride is squalor.
We are safety net fallout,
and regret nothing.
We are the silent extras,
on the Imperial set.
June 22, 2008 5:09 PM | Reply | Permalink
You are:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kFRuLFR91e4
June 22, 2008 6:11 PM | Reply | Permalink
Oui. Rien.
June 22, 2008 6:35 PM | Reply | Permalink
Ceci n'est pas une pipe.
June 22, 2008 6:39 PM | Reply | Permalink
Ahhh. But it COULD have been.
June 22, 2008 9:28 PM | Reply | Permalink
I don't know. It's probably something that eats right through your soft tissue.
June 22, 2008 5:58 PM | Reply | Permalink
I got about 20 pounds of soft tissue I wouldn't mind it eatin through.
June 22, 2008 11:14 PM | Reply | Permalink
ok quinny
you be on some trail we ain't seeing...yet
back on this later...
June 22, 2008 4:50 PM | Reply | Permalink
Trapper Quinn,
We welcome you to the campfire. But we don't speak no frenchie, 'cept the few words of the trade language. Is it true that you don't sing or fiddle american? We'd like that, if we know the words, and
even if we cain't knowem. Could you give us a tune now, and parlay the american fer us?
June 22, 2008 8:07 PM | Reply | Permalink
I once knew a girl. We met every morning in a little cafe. A greasy one. Eggs and sausage, toast and coffee every morning. The authorities tried to close it down on us. She stopped 'em. Damned if they would've listened to me. She used to talk to Americans. But they were kinda afraid, what with her red hair and all. So.
She stopped.
This is the song she wrote about it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qCFbKEVzlOo
To turn away a woman like that? Well, after that, I figured they'd never listen to a fool such as me. Nothin to do but wait for em to work it out. Work the poison out. It didn't get there by itself.
June 22, 2008 9:41 PM | Reply | Permalink
quinn, I find this hard to say, but speaking as a head with a head for chaos, i don't have a clue what this is about. Is it the girl? Stumped by chaos on my own chaotic blog.
June 22, 2008 11:39 PM | Reply | Permalink
The song or the story?
June 23, 2008 12:15 AM | Reply | Permalink
Ok. The story. Maybe Spam & Co. will figure out I'm not you. (Or you. Or you.) They seem to have a hard time with the idea that one man might have more than one story. Since their lives seem to lack some juice, I'll be literal here. I sometimes have to be, though it's a dreadful comedown from the people we need to be. But if Spam and Barefooted come back this way and are still having a hard time figuring it out, well... that's their loss. I'm tired. I can spare one story. Life has many, done properly.
I spent most of 1996-2002 in London. Big times, much to do politically, etc. Blair was coming. And I'd promised to come back, just to help reverse the works of Maggie. So I did.
I lived near the Heath. Hampstead Heath. There was a little cafe, down at the foot of Parliament Hill and South End Road. Called Polly's. Here. Look. Come on in.
http://www.welovelocal.com/en/london/camden/belsize-park/cafes/pollys-nw32qb.html
It was a greasy spoon. Perfect for me. So I'd fall down the hill every morning for coffee etc. Turned out it was also the haunt of Annie Lennox. Same Mendes. Minghella. Made for interesting chats. Mendes was doing American Beauty.
Thus, Annie's "the girl." When in the Eurythmics, her sexuality scared the shit out of people. The red short hair and all. When the Council tried to close Polly's down for some stupid licensing thing, Annie organized the response. We won.
The English struggle with America, and what it means. The song was her video on the end of a love affair. With America. the love's still there, but the horror got pretty thick for a while.
I'm not a riddler. Myth, I get.
But fuckitalltohell. My blood's from America. Fucking Mayflower. Fuller's. My family's back in America now. I'm not, as of yet. Decisions to make. But I feel it. And if you can't see the look in Annie's face, ricking herself in pain, in the back of that cab, and get what this has all meant to people... well. I kinda run out of words. And now.... when there's the slightest sniff of hope... to see the morons, as one-dimensional as ever, still not having figured out that THAT'S why the ship got captained by a fool, to not get that the cubic souls they've created are the very problem, and now, all of them clustering in to close hope off.... It kills me.
Do not mistake me. I think Obama carries a great deal in this time. So much so that in fact I'm sure he will fail and sink under the waves from time to time. We'll see if he also rises. Which is precisely why the dull would do well to understand myth.
There. I'm unlikely to be this literal again. Christ, I hope I don't have to be.
June 23, 2008 12:50 AM | Reply | Permalink
Good ol' Camden, if I'd only known which corner to hunker into I'd have been famous, or brushed with fame. Instead I chose Hackney, and what did they give me? A Cab. And a good pint with chips. Now I have a Camden exile here, no better for the travel - he's turned into a werewolf. Probably Polly's fault as well.
June 23, 2008 1:57 AM | Reply | Permalink
Hackney, Des? Used to hang at London Fields. Albion Drive. Colombia Market. Many friends there. Election Night, in fact. Ahhhh, that was glorious. "Like A Rolling Stone" snarling out windows at 2 am when Maggie's crew went down. How does it feeeeeel? Had to move to the Heath, Hackney got no tube. Had everything else though.
June 23, 2008 2:25 AM | Reply | Permalink
Funny, I have a brilliant bootleg of Like A Rolling Stone from Albert Hall that I bought in Camden Market only to discover later that the nice stark stereo sound vanishes about 18 seconds later into a mush mono mess. But the beginning is beautiful.
June 23, 2008 3:22 AM | Reply | Permalink
And THAT wins the prize as "Best Description Of Tony Blair."
I'm bein' cruel. He did a lot. For a lot longer than 18 seconds.
But at some point... nothin' but static in that boy's head.
June 23, 2008 3:26 AM | Reply | Permalink
He's the political equivalent of the Thompson Twins - there's only so much of that you can take before you come out looking like a... poodle?
June 23, 2008 3:45 AM | Reply | Permalink
who are the Thompson twins?
June 23, 2008 9:27 AM | Reply | Permalink
T-Twins. Sad story from youngr days. Boy meets girl. Find twinship. Stare into others eyes. Twins meet synthesizer. They connect. Hold me now, they sing. Synthesizer does. Twins assimilated. Much lunch money is saved, but song remains the same. Tragedy often repeated amongst the Eurotrash peoples.
June 23, 2008 11:06 AM | Reply | Permalink
was it a Korg or at least a Roland?
June 23, 2008 11:42 AM | Reply | Permalink
King Roland, not Rothgar.
June 24, 2008 4:35 AM | Reply | Permalink
There was a young girl named Annie
Who exposed a bit much of her fanny
(While the Yanks say "her crotch",
It was only a splotch,
But the fame that it brought was uncanny).
June 23, 2008 3:50 AM | Reply | Permalink
Wasn't she a Brit an needing therapy?
June 23, 2008 9:49 AM | Reply | Permalink
No...bad delivery there damn it.
Try something like "Britten Needs" and make a face also, as if you have *noticed* the missing undergarments.
June 23, 2008 11:55 AM | Reply | Permalink
Now I'm thinking of Britney and her knees and that really horrid snatch shot. Water, I need water....
June 24, 2008 2:55 AM | Reply | Permalink
Beware, lest you stare too long into the abyss....
June 24, 2008 10:18 AM | Reply | Permalink