:grin:Quote:
Originally Posted by El_Squid
http://www.starz.com/features/christmasstory/
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:grin:Quote:
Originally Posted by El_Squid
http://www.starz.com/features/christmasstory/
Then Sophie espied the large, roasted turkey and said, 'I have something to tell you all, I'm a vegetarian' and she lunged towards the howling dogs, grabbed the lead dog (with her leather glovved hands) and wretched the turkey from his jaws and looked at it sadly, for the turkey was dead. She dug a simple grave and had a little burial service for the poor turkey.Quote:
Originally Posted by El_Squid
She stood hands on hips facing the howling hounds ...
They glared at her and said...
Ruff, ruff, ruff! Growl! Whine, whine, whine! :p
As everyone in the canine world knows, 'Ruff, ruff, ruff! Growl! Whine, whine, whine!' means 'What a whacko woman, taking a perfectly good if somewhat salivaaed turkey and putting it in the ground like that!'
Bumpus himself thought, 'Oh well, I'll just dig it up later. I wonder though if that will start rumours about necrophylic dogs?'
So, the canine caperers trotted off to steal a cherry pie. And Sophie eventually got tired of standing by the grave of a previously dispatched fowl and she herself headed off, muttering.............
.
necrophylic dogs? BwaHaHaHa! :grin:
Bumpus crept back in the dark of night, checking whether it was the darkest part of the night and started digging, earth was flung in every direction as he searched ... the turkey had gone.
He dug another hole ... no turkey.
He threw his tail up in the air and dug another hole further along ... no turkey.
He had a panicked, glazed look on his face, 'where did it go?' he woofed.
Sophie was peeping through a dense bush.
Then...
As an aside - JK Rowling has amassed a
£540m fortune from writing -
wonder what we'd get for this thread?
OLDER! :grin:Quote:
Originally Posted by Mags
Then..., the turkey appeared, or rather, a glowing orange, phatasmagoric turkey floated in, trailing ectoplasmic tendrils and moaning, like an off-key chorus of the damned, performing an off-Broadway production of Les Miserables. Bumpus leaped back, terrified, lost control of his bowels, then ran off, howling pitieously. Sophie was rooted to the spot behind the bushes in sheer horror. The Ghastly Ghostly Turkey drifted in her direction.
"I am the Spirit of Fowls Past!" the apparition intoned. "Fear my Gobbles of Doom!"
"I.i..i..f..f.f.f you waste good eating Turkey ever again dear Sophie yo.o.o.o.u will be put in a hole in the ground to be munched by worms." it utters in a deep cosmic voice. 'And see how you like it." he adds like a second grade child. then back to his other world voice he continues, "W.e.e.e.e tur.ur.ur keys have been born to grace the dinner table at Christmas" and with more angry emphasis he adds,"and you stole that honour from me," followed by a normal voice, " even if it was a dogs table."
Sophie gets suspicious and wonders who it is doing all this talking because she notices that the turkeys mouth isn't even moving. She lays odds with herself that it is ..
...the tree behind the turkey.
The tree is very tall and has been practising human speech for years, quietly, unseen, in the very still of night .. and chose this moment to....
prove that on the Prehistoric Planet, plants are the smartest living thing. The tree spoke on to Sophie telling her things she never dreamed of ( even though she had been into the future and seen computers and hospitals and all), he explained to her all about .....
he explained to her all about .....Piled ups,toy wasp meat,homemade stores,lefthanded
dynamite,and when your hungry how to turn toast into extra toast.She chopped the tree down.Made a fire and................
... settled down in some comfy flannel pajamas to toast marshmallows over the flickering flames. Bumpus and the other hounds, a little worse for the scare, lay snoozing in the fire's warmth. Meanwhile, as the crackling flames consumed the logs, the tree's last sentient thought flashed by, "I should have kept my big mouth shut!" And, its spirit flashed up the flue in a spiraling dance with the thick smoke, free at last from this mortal coil.
A chill ran up Sophie's spine, as if there were a great disturbance in the force. Somewhere, all the nasty little gremlins had gathered, working mischief as a group. The name "Noo Noo" popped into her head, unbidden. What could it possibly mean?
But then perhaps it wasn't about "meaning."
The "nasty little gremlins" functioned on a lower step of the Piagetian developmental heirarchy that of "meaning." Their multi-coloured malevolence (one purple, one red, one yellow, one green) functioned at more of a subcortical, brain-stem emotive level than that of rational thought, especially as they performed their evil rituals for their infantile "Sun God." Perhaps the "Noo Noo" was their diabolical hench-thing, an entity "abhorred by nature," sent to the realm of the rational as the first strike on sanity. Perhaps what Sophie felt was a foreboding, a sense of a slow inexorable doom looming ahead, a sensation rather like that caused by wearing a pair of ill-fitting nickers with a failing elastic waistband together with a mini-skirt on a hot muggy summer's day, but then again.... maybe not.....
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http://forums.windrivers.com/images/.../2010/07/1.jpg
It is my pure and virtuous heart that
gives me the strength of ten!
One wonders what Sophie's fears are really about?
Perhaps it's not about 'meaning' ... or who was their hench person? Perhaps it's about 'plans' or having 'no plans at all'.
All the women rushed over for this deep, meaningless debate for their lives had been based on plans, no plans or the best laid ones?
And the need is to determine which is best?
One wonders whether having no plans at all might be better? If you plan nothing, then things happen, not necessarily what you thought, because you thought nothing, then you are taken by surprise .. and what happens may be better than what you didn't plan ..?
So they came to the conclusion that ...
.. the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. Or, was that, a penny saved is a penny earned? No matter. The Prehistoric Women decided to fly by the seat of their pants, not make any plans and take things as they came. In other words, they would be deliberately carefree. ;)
...but aged Marie felt unsafe, she couldn't imagine a life without plans, she'd never been carefree in her life, her hair had always been neat, never out of place, she was proud of her bun. She shook, she dithered on her toes, she went white, she held on to the side of ... the woman next to her ... or was it a man? She had her notebook ready, for she always made notes in her notebook to remember things to do at home. She braced herself ... because she knew what was coming next ... was ...
..... A loud authoritive deep voice from out of no where - a new edict from the powerful one of WOTPP.
She declared that Marie and all others like her must put aside their note books and go with the flow , let down their hair and go along with living without plans. As she so wisely added, "Sh#t happens" - they even make bumper stickers saying so. Therefore it is best, as the women of TPP have voted, to have no plans - then nothing can come unstuck. No one will ever be disappointed, and life will be constantly exciting andn interesting. Things you count on may grind to a halt, water could stop flowing through the broken plumbing because you couldn't plan to have a plumber come in. This was when Sophie began to wonder if the decision the women made was a good one she still had bad plumbing in her cave. She rose to her feet as if to speak when all of a sudden
...Marie's eyebrows went up, her hands waved in the air, clutching pen and notebook, diary, organiser .. she stood on tiptoe, looking for a rock to stand on, so that she would be above the crowd, for she felt she must proclaim that plans must be made, that plans are so essential to peace of mind. Marie's plans never went astray, everything went through with ease, as neat as her bun ... she could not enter into the screams of the women who were saying, 'yes, but ....' and 'he didn't turn up' ... and 'we waited in all day' ... and 'we forgot to measure the height, length' ...
Marie finally found a rock to stand on then ...
Placing two fingers in her mouth she sent out a whale of a whistle and captured the attention of the mass of women who were stunned into silence. Eloquently and passionately Marie stated her case for the need for a plan. Even on the prehistoric planet of AstroStarCus, there must be a plan. To her surprise support began to swing her way, both Sophie and Robbie sprang to their feet and shouted.....
'We begin to understand, even to the fact that we do think Marie might be right?'
Then wee Tommy all grown up, pushed his way to the front, jumped in the rock and said, 'Marie has a point that planning might be useful'
Marie patted her bun and said, 'oh my gosh, yes of course, planning is always good, in fact I'm lost without my diary, notebook and organiser, without writing things down, I forget completely.'
Then Sophie said, 'this is all very well, but maybe it's right to sometimes have plans and sometimes not?'
To which, the reply came...
...."Nuts! Yes, nuts I say! Living without plans is contrary to good sense, makes us in attitude similar to the lesser beasties, and would lead to mayhem, insurrection and general and complete deterioration of societal foundations and other such important stuff."
Amazed, everyone looked stage left, and there, slowly entering, was a very vocal and much-to-be-feared .............
very vocal and much-to-be-feared .............Jester named WangMing.
He was the leader of a comedy act which starred the triplets...........
PING,PANG,and PONG.He did a bow to Sophie without meeting her eyes
Then motioned for the triplets to start...............................
...the dance of the great Chinese warlords, whose ploy was beyond none.
They staged an elaborate tea ceremony, during which PONG dropped hints at the size of his army and his chances of victory. Then PING would grab his table tennis bat, looking so fiersome! Eventually PANG would give in and admit he was defeated. So battles were fought with no loss of life.
PING demonstrated....
PING demonstrated....The Elequent: Dance of the chopsticks.Meanwhile,Pang was crouch'd in fear shivering at the thought of those chopsticks,and Pong was threatening
an overthrow of the chopstick .............................
And as the chopstick was overthrown, it twirled acrobatically in a franitc arial swan song performance before landing in the waste bin, the first step on the road to the land fill of life.
"I've fallen, and I can't get up!" it cried. But there was no answer. There was no one there to hear. (If a chopstick falls in the waste bin, and there is no one there......)
It looked around helplessly. It had landed on a crumpled up, soiled newspaper.
http://i14.tinypic.com/4hrin1u.jpg
________________________________________________
(Continued from A1)
The Squid examines his cards again and pushes a small stack of chips towards the center of the table, saying "See you and raise ten." He pauses and then bitterly adds, "The Prehistoric Planet chews'em up and spits'em out!" Mr. P, the beast from down under, nods sadly in agreement, a limp vegemite sandwich lying neglected beside him on the table.
"There is little concern for narrative continuity or plot development. Characters are introduced, willy-nilly as it were, and then are casually tossed aside like yesterday's butt scrub," says Dr. Bruce Anthrax as he antes up.
Wee Tommy looks down anxiously into his near empty sporran, fidgets with his cards, and says, "Errr .. would ye be having any eights?"
Moby starts to sneer, "Go f...." but is interrupted by an obviously inebriated Ahab, seated across the table with Ms Butterfly on his lap.
"Arrr... Look what it done to Chi-Ken. We had ta duct tape him up n put the tin foil on his head ta keep'm from seppuku," slurs Ahab. Ms Butterfly's face flushes scarlet as Ahab's hand slips beneath the table.
Across the room a TV is ignored by a variety of dejected dames who are sprawled over the shabby furinture. A number of brightly-coloured nasty little gremlins cavort on the screen before their sun god, performing conservation of matter peekaboo rituals, while the blue meanie, the NooNoo, their evil hench thing, an entity abhorred by nature (repeated here in case you didn't get the joke last time as in "nature abhors....") coldly regards the room from afar.
The Squid snaps his suckers. The Petronella twins get up and start across the room. "More krill, Honey?" they purr in unison.
Daisy follows them across the room, coming up behind Moby and running her finger teasingly around his blow hole. "Save the ambergris for later, Big Boy," she whispers.
Seated atop a stack of empty pizza boxes and phone directories, the Cyborg Wombat fans his cards, closes them again, and then puts them down on table. "Fold," he mumbles, as a small tear runs down his fuzzy cheek. The suddenly he smacks his paw down on the table, upsetting piles of chips. "What have we done to deserve this?" he shouts. "What?"
Across the room on the TV screen, the NooNoo snickers ominously, and the room becomes a little darker and colder.
(Thanks to Guts3D for the newspaper URL)
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http://forums.windrivers.com/images/.../2010/07/1.jpg
It is my pure and virtuous heart that
gives me the strength of ten!
Marie looked aghast and realised she had very little of this in her notebook, so she grabbed a blue pen, started writing hurriedly, for there was so little time and so much to do, then grabbed a red pen to highlight the highlights, then grabbed a black pen, to underline the bad times on the Planet, then she grabbed a green pen, to mark the Green re-cycling times, for she was sure she had heard some of this before? She then grabbed her purple pen, for as the saying goes, 'When I am Old, I shall wear Purple' to mark the humorous times. Then lunged for the Yellow pen and shrieked in horror when she realised yellow didn't show up on her white paper.
Then she patted her bun, which really needed undoing, washing and putting back in place again, but she had so much writing to do about all these events, the hair washing would have to wait..
Then into view, came that old fella, Shakespeare, who was a dab hand at writing things, he had come to give Marie a bit of advice, which was .....
Tubbie, or not Tubbie: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action ...
____________________________________________
http://forums.windrivers.com/images/.../2010/07/1.jpg
It is my pure and virtuous heart that
gives me the strength of ten!
"We must kill some of the characters in this script." thought Mags.Of course,
Mags had no thoughts of using the color of'yellow pen' again in print.
She quickly grabbed out her favorite color...................................
Now she could continue the saga WOTPP.The following was her new addition........................
Marie read this -
'Tubbie, or not Tubbie: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks'
and she thought it said 'a thousand natural socks' and the thought of picking up and washing all those socks again filled her with horror, so she....
Screamed
https://forums.windrivers.com/
https://forums.windrivers.com/
https://forums.windrivers.com/
http://www.decodeunicode.org/data/gl...6x196/0021.gif
at the top of her lungs and then suddenly she thought of ...
http://www.phill.co.uk/comedy/vicar/vicar46.jpg
which made her laugh and think
http://yes.wz.cz/ylogo.jpg
why not?
____________________________________________
http://forums.windrivers.com/images/.../2010/07/1.jpg
It is my pure and virtuous heart that
gives me the strength of ten!
OH!NO! FLASHBACKS........
http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l9...served_1-1.jpghttp://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l9...1-1/aenm-3.jpg
http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l9...ilchick_80.jpg
https://forums.windrivers.com/images.../2007/04/1.gifhttp://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l9...SummerWine.jpg
What A Nightmare!What Will NooNoo and Yellow Print Mags Do? :grin:
http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l9...ickenboy-1.jpgSNAP!
Why go see the Fates, of course, and try to have them weave the random threads of this disjointed saga into some sort of cohesive fabric, or at least a warm scarf. :confused:
*NooNoo votes for a scarf
brrrrr it's cold out there!
Ummm anyone know where the Fates live?
The Fates live here Fates Homework Page of course !
And as it says, 'In the abode of the Fates are the records of all that happens on tablets of brass and iron, which are neither shaken by warfare in heaven, nor lightning, nor any destructive power. They are eternal and secure, these archives of the Fates'
Sooooo the whole of this sad and sorry and hilarious and silly tale is in the Archives of the Fates and slowly gathering cobwebs, green slime only stirred up by the occasional crazy visitor ....
...the next one of whom is ...
....a sometime clairvoyant, oft-times innebriated, and usually perplexed MOTPP (man of the perplexing present) who had this observation on the story line so far:
"What!"
To which another strange poster answered...........
To which another strange poster answered...........
Huh?
And another strange poster
WHAT THE!!!!
But the Fates took a turn for the verse at the Faroes, and the scarf, with its warp and woof, became a norse of a different colour.
Marie thought, "This can't be nornal ( Nornir/Valkyrur/DÃ*sir )!" But unfortunately it was, and our disjointed saga decided momentarily to return to a linguistic fetal position:
VÃ*tt er orpit
fyrir valfalli
rifs reiðiský,
rignir blóði ;
nú er fyrir geirum
grár upp kominn
vefr verþjóðar,
er þær vinur fylla
rauðum vepti
Randvés bana.
See! warp is stretched
For warriors' fall,
Lo! weft in loom
'Tis wet with blood;
Now fight foreboding,
'Neath friends' swift fingers,
Our grey woof waxeth
With war's alarms,
Our warp bloodred,
Our weft corseblue.
Sjá er orpinn vefr
ýta þörmum
ok harðkléaðr
höfðum manna ;
eru dreyrrekin
dörr at sköptum,
járnvarðr yllir,
en örum hrælaðr ;
skulum slá sverðum
sigrvef þenna.
"This woof is y-woven
With entrails of men,
This warp is hardweighted
With heads of the slain,
Spears blood-besprinkled
For spindles we use,
Our loom ironbound,
And arrows our reels;
With swords for our shuttles
This war-woof we work;
Gengr Hildr vefa
ok Hjörþrimul,
SanngrÃ*ðr, Svipul
sverðum tognum ;
skapt mun gnesta,
skjöldr mun bresta,
mun hjálmgagarr
Ã* hlÃ*f koma.
So weave we, weird sisters,
Our warwinning woof.
"Now Warwinner walketh
To weave in her turn,
Now Swordswinger steppeth,
Now Swiftstroke, now Storm;
When they speed the shuttle
How spearheads shall flash!
Shields crash, and helmgnawer
On harness bite hard!
Vindum, vindum
vef darraðar,
þann er ungr konungr
átti fyrri!
Fram skulum ganga
ok Ã* fólk vaða,
þar er vinir várir
vápnum skipta.
"Wind we, wind swiftly
Our warwinning woof
Woof erst for king youthful
Foredoomed as his own,
Forth now we will ride,
Then through the ranks rushing
Be busy where friends
Blows blithe give and take.
Vindum, vindum
vef darraðar
ok siklingi
sÃ*ðan fylgjum!
Þar sjá bragna
blóðgar randir
Guðr ok Göndul,
er grami hlÃ*fðu.
"Wind we, wind swiftly
Our warwinning woof,
After that let us steadfastly
Stand by the brave king;
Then men shall mark mournful
Their shields red with gore,
How Swordstroke and Spearthrust
Stood stout by the prince.
Vindum, vindum
vef darraðar,
þars er vé vaða
vÃ*gra manna!
Látum eigi
lÃ*f hans farask ;
eigu valkyrjur
vals of kosti.
Wind we, wind swiftly
Our warwinning woof.
When sword-bearing rovers
To banners rush on,
Mind, maidens, we spare not
One life in the fray!
We corse-choosing sisters
Have charge of the slain.
Marie suddenly sneezed, "Clontarf!"
"Óðinn bless you." said Njal. To which he added, "It sure is getting hot in here. Anyone got any marshmallows?"
____________________________________________
http://forums.windrivers.com/images/.../2010/07/1.jpg
It is my pure and virtuous heart that
gives me the strength of ten!