...to which the reply came, 'no' ...
(which is true, since I lost my Aunt, I've been in a daze, normal service will take a while to resume).
so ... therefore ... we ... await ...
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...to which the reply came, 'no' ...
(which is true, since I lost my Aunt, I've been in a daze, normal service will take a while to resume).
so ... therefore ... we ... await ...
In the interim, a wandering minstrel saunters in, stage left, and sits down atop a grassy knoll. He unpacks his lute and strums it lightly. He immediately makes a sour face, as the instrument is hideously out of tune, and puts the lute aside, pulling out a set of reed pipes from his copious knapsack.
"Much better!" he thinks to himself, as he lifts the pipes to his lips.
Just then, an enormous Saber-toothed Kangaroo crashes down on top of the Merry Minstrel, smashing him into a reddish puddle of goo, gathers itself up and then leaps out of sight.
A tiny voice emanates from the gory puddle of goo, "Ouch! That smarts!"
Hell to the Queen! I mean hail to the Queen! Is the voice we are now hearing.
Who could this be braving the goo?Such a little wee person to show up at a
time like this.Sauntering he is ,with little attention for anything and great admiration
for himself.Forward he trudges hunting the exit from the goo.
No respect yet!
Screeches the.................
... Inner Child of the former wandering Minstrel, who looks amazingly like Rodney Dangerfield. Finally freed from that caterwauling bufoon, he found himself open to run and play amid the clover, unfettered by the fleshy prison of his adult body.
"Woot!" he exclaimed, tumbling down the side of the grassy knoll. "I don't get any respect, but I don't care!"
'You don't care?, What ?!!' screached the Headmistress, well you should care, it is my earnest plea and the reason why I put so much into my work, that every pupil of mine should care ... I mean to say ....'
I mean to say......'
You,yes you!Look at yourself you twisted little excuse for a..........
Interloper attack! WOTPP :grin:
Let's get this straight. You are not an interloper. This is not a private thread which you are butting in on.Quote:
Originally Posted by jitBob
Your so-called "Interloper attack" is a welcome contribution, one every bit as meaningful and profound as most of what has gone before. It is also in keeping with the tradition of the thread.
Welcome back jitBob.
:thumbs2:
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It is my pure and virtuous heart that
gives me the strength of ten!
Quote:
Originally Posted by houseisland
You mean we ... have .... had things that were meaningful and profound? Gosh, oh my !! But of course, everyone's welcome to join in ... and please do !
And, as the seamstress said, when the phone went, as she was embarking upon a new job, 'I've lost the thread....'
However, a knock at the door heralded the arrival of ....
The supply guy is here with more threads for youQuote:
Originally Posted by Mags
came a booming shout at the door.
The seamtress took one look at him and knew........................
... knew that although the square root of negative one being equal to an imaginary number was a necessary fiction, in order to maintain continuity in the Universo Mathematico, it was in reality a wad of notational gum shoved into a hole of the logical tire, so the venerable car of science could continue to wobble its way down the road. Not much better than rattles and knucle bones, but with much cooler notation and way more money.
Then, there was the whole problem of the Unification Theory, but she thought it was still not time to reveal her anti-gravity mittens to the world, so it would just have to wait. Now, where did she put her cheque book? The nice package of new threads had come C.O.D. and the young delivery man would want paying.
First she remembered the day she spent in the
room hunting that darned umbrella shaped hat
she felt attractive in.
Her face soon became a twisted statement
of sorts.
She had to have the threads.
She couldn't find the cheque book.
So she thumb-cocked her pistol and shot
him right between the......................................
... second and third buttons of his uniform blouse. Fortunately, she had picked up a starter's pistol, so although it went off with a bang, that is all that came out the barrel. Unfortunately, the delivery dude had an undiagnosed congenital heart defect, so, when the pistol went off, he suffered a massive MI, clutched his chest with both hands and dropped to the floor, stone dead. Oh my!
The seamstress, unfazed by the young man's untimely demise, reached down and retrieved the aforementioned package of new threads. The package's plain brown paper wrapper surrendered to her insistent pulling, as did the tape wrapped about the simple cardboard box. She reached in and pulled out a great wad of thread, which, upon further examination, turned out to be just one single, very long thread of many colors.
It had a paper label wrapped around it, which read "The WOTPP's Tale". This egregious violation the self-referencing prime directive resulted in a massive disruption of the space-time continuum. A swirling vortex appeared, sucked everything into a gaping black hole and then vanished, leaving behind ....
...leaving behind ...
a very confused 'me', in fact so confused that yesterday, I picked up the remote control to make a phone call !!
Then realised it would be a lot easier if I picked up the cordless phone !
Do carry on, I'm trying to follow the thread .. but with having lots of responses from the letters I wrote to some of my late Aunt's friends, not sure if I'm on my head or heels here ...
On with the Tale ....
leaving behind ....Every cartoon ever made in military uniforms,high heels,tights and
a bandana around each leg.
Of course,Nike sent their cheerleaders with tennis shoes and protest signs.
The Mayor of Munchkin Land sent the coroner to make sure the guy was sincerely
dead.
The seamstress awoke from the Mad Hatter dream and spun a web from all the
threads she had accumalated through the years,jumped in spread eagle and
started doing a new found dance.
A sudden flash from who knows where.Sent WOTPP signs to every.................