...aaah ... ohhh . ... mmmm ... eeee ... ooooh ... ahhhQuote:
Originally Posted by houseisland
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...aaah ... ohhh . ... mmmm ... eeee ... ooooh ... ahhhQuote:
Originally Posted by houseisland
houseisland-You definitely have the talents to be an author.
I don't know if you've considered it but....
You are there!!!
I have also read all of Mags- Welcome to my world-
It is amazing to find 2 people on one website with so much talent.
There is a flash of light, and then all is quiet.
..and all is quiet ...
..then along walks a little boy called Tommy, he had been watching from behind a palm tree and saw that Chi-Ken had gone.
Tommy had travelled in on a Coracle from the Planet of Scotland .. he wore a little kilt .. he stood amazed ... he'd never seen so many women .. not even at school, which he'd left because he was far too intelligent to stay there for another 10 years ... sigh.
Then he espied Daisy and he said, "....
Then he espied Daisy and he said, "....
The shape of a coracle is
dependent on the river on
which it was to be used; ...
I'm your huckleberry...Who's your......
"Tha i glè bhrèagha an-diugh. Ciamar a tha thu? Dè 'n t-ainm a tha ort? A bheil GÃ*idhlig agaibh?"Quote:
Originally Posted by Mags
http://gd.openoffice.org/
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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!
Then he espied Daisy and he said, "....Hi i am Tommy
from Golden Isle Express. I like to be a girl i am a crossdresser.
This is not really a little kilt.Did it fool you?I am on my
way to Bagdad to upgrade my attire.
Suddenly..........
...ah, that's all very well, but was that the correct translation of ...
"Tha i glè bhrèagha an-diugh. Ciamar a tha thu? Dè 'n t-ainm a tha ort? A bheil GÃ*idhlig agaibh?"
???
Well contrary to popular belief it has nothing to do with the gruesome What's under yer kilt joke:Quote:
Originally Posted by Mags
"What's under yer kilt wee Tommy?"
"Aye, Daisy, why ye nay see fer yer self?"
"Ochh, Tommy it's gruesome."
"Why ye nay look agin, lassie? It's gruesome more!"
In fact it means something like:
"It's a beautiful day. How are you? What's your name? Do you speak Gaelic?"
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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!
To which Daisy replied, of course I do, 'It's a brae breck nicht aboard the Planet ... but I don't know a lot more. Do you speak Prehistoric Woman language?'Quote:
Originally Posted by houseisland
El Squid pulled the brim of his battered fedora down low, over his brow. He pondered the words that prehistoric dame had said, but couldn't make any sense of them. She had been speaking in Garlic, or Gaelic, or something like that, but it didn't matter; it was all Greek to him.
A lonely light fixture struggled to illuminate the debris strewn alley behind the Taco De La Mer, succeeding only in making a small pool of light in the murky darkness. The cephalopod started walking, err... squirming... moving out of the dark alley, flicking his cigarette butt into a nearby puddle, where it went out with a hiss.
"Someday," he promised himself, again, "I'll have to give up the habit." Something which should have been easy for him to do, considering he had no lips, or lungs, for that matter.
He took a right at bleeker Street, heading for his purple sedan, blissfully unaware of the squinty, bloodshot eyes which had been watching his every move. A white humpback whale stepped out of the shadows, pulling its trenchcoat closer to ward off the cold midnight air, and slowly followed the squid's tracks. An evil grin tugged at its lips, as it felt the hard lump of a snub nosed 38 in its pocket.
"Soon," the cetaceous stalker thought, "Real soon!"
However, there were a couple of things that Moby didn't know, that he couldn't know.
One is that the squid was not the same old squid. During his recuperation on the dreaded House Island, the last refuge of the criminally insane and other MS certified professionals, a number of modifications had been made to the sly cephalopod. The mad Dr. Bruce Anthrax, an evil ex-pat Australian cyber-robotic scientist with a Ned Kelly fixation, wanted dead or alive by every major police force and security agency worldwide, had tended to our hero's wounds. The Killer Kraken had been fitted with a Kevlar stealth mantle, a titanium razor beak with a laser radula, a neutron ink cloud generator, tractor beam enhanced tentacles with gravity pod suckers, and most importantly a photon funnel/siphon, which allowed light-speed travel in any direction. Moby, Daisy and the prehistoric dames and the world at large were not ready for what was to come. Bwaa ha ha ha ha!
http://www.thetech.org/exhibits/onli...ages/squid.gif
Robot Zoo
Dr. Bruce in his lab:
http://www.anonymousphilanthropist.c...obotbig_th.jpg
The other thing that Moby could not know was that Dr. Bruce had secrectly provided King Kalamar with a guardian angel from Hell, the beast from down under, the pestilent cyborg platypus of doom, Mr. P, here seen getting ready to steal candy from a baby.
:flames:
http://www.anonymousphilanthropist.c...otplatypus.jpg
Back in the deepest gloom of the trash strewn alley, a pair of beady amphibious monotreme borg eyes stared out at the white whale, watching its every move with malevolent intent.....
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Dr. Bruce's early squid modification prototypes:
http://www.labcoatcomics.com/robosquid/swimmer.gif
http://www.jimracchi.com/squid.jpg
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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!
...then Daisy peeped out from behind the back of her Mother's skirts, rather afraid and a little bit frustrated that her 52Kbps speed has been reduced to 50Kbps and that no-one has answered her written missives which were sent by pigeon post to the Great One in the Sky who allows all connections .. so she scratched her head, for her speed did not allow her to keep up with all the fast moving action suddenly happening on the Prehistoric Planet.
She wondered whether the Old Squid (as she fiddled with her modem) would come back again.....?
As the fates would have it, El Squid became hopelessly preoccupied with the quest for an appropriate battery charger, as all he had was one for the cigarette lighter of his car and one for European outlets. Terrified at the thought of his battery running low, the Cephaloborg, did not dare wander far from his vehicle, although he did consider moving to the old country and opening a bistro. Perhaps Doctor Bruce would be interested in investing in this culinary adventure? Mr. P, the Terror from Down Under, could make vegamite sandwiches, as well.
And so, dear readers, the saga of sweet Daisy the Prehistoric Woman seems to have run its course. Will the last person out please turn off the lights. ;)
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