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#2
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Clam Mass 10/22/06 Supernova sun clam wrath Part 4
Double-A wrote:
ah wrote: mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote: In article , ah wrote: mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote: In article , ah wrote: mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote: In article , ah wrote: Phil Kyle wrote: ah verbally sodomised in : Phil Kyle wrote: ah verbally sodomised in : Phil Kyle wrote: ah verbally sodomised in : Phil Kyle wrote: The Very Tim verbally sodomised in : wrote: Okay timt your on today hope you come though don't mess up. here we go ......mindless snippage of important set-up material..... This is the third reading from the book of Timt of Clay (Timt this is yours) Ahem ahem. Well, I'll give it a shot, even if it's only to provide Little Kill Phyle Clam with something to babble about, (now that he has been converted to a full-fledged and totally devoted a.b.c. Lurker `( (I know you're devoted little buddy, because I'm not cross-posting this stuff, so you have! to come into the Bay to read it. Come on now, admit it. You like! it here. And we like you! to like it here. But I digress.) Little Kill Phyle Clam looked about to see if any of the regular bad.clams had noticed him yet. (They hadn't, of course) He had tried using bad words and evil aspersions to earn the respect of the denizens of Beautiful Mollusc Bay, but alas, he was being ignored far and wide and hither and yonder and everywhere else he stuck his little siphon in, with his pitiable pleas for attention. "Will they never take pity on me?" thought Little Kill Phyle Clam, "Can't they see that I, too, am remarkably clever and astoot? (even if my speling does stink a bit) How can I earn their attention and high regard, I wonder?" But the clams noticed him not a whit. Far greater concerns concerned the clams of the noble and revered Mollusc Bay. They had a SuperNova Sun Clam Wrath(tm) with which to contend. The clams were watching the skies in hopes of an impending victory over whatever was out there. They already had! cleverness and beauty galore, and wisdom and wit to spare. But they lacked a gooey, muddy material with which to build wonderful things and arty facts. Whatever could they do? A dark calm came over the bay, and the clouds parted for a nonce or two.. "Let there be CLAY!" roared the golden voice of the silver-tongued ClamLord. And suddenly, there was clay; not merely a lump of clay, but a giant lump of clay with a large cave inside. A cave of clay, as they say. "Hmmm." thought Timt, (out loud) "what a swell place to sit and mediate for a while. It has relatively waterproof walls, and while not exactly fireproof, these walls can! convert themselves to the finest stoneware ramparts and crenellations and suchwhats. Perhaps I shall make my muddy headquarters here." And that is precisely what he did. He sat in the middle of a puddle of mud and clay and began to create. Oh what a mess that clam made! First, he annoyed the hangers-on by welcoming them to the Bay. (Truth be told, there was only 1 new hanger-on, but the prevailing exchange rate did take into account multiple personalities, so that one counts as many for the purposes of this telling.) Then, he tweaked their pointy little nose by not! reading any of their posts or follow-ups. And frankly, (no relation) all they did post were follow-ups, usually with dirty words included since those who have no proper ideas and words of interest to post are frequently confined to defining themselfs by using only dirty words and intended-to-be hurtful phrases because that is all their mommy ever gave them with which to work. And so they did. They typed furiously into the night, trying with great desperation to get some attention from the lordly and quiet-as-ever clams of Beautiful Mollusc Bay. Yet still, it did not work for them. Only the Mighty ClamLord could impress the geoducks and pseudopods of the bay. Only he had the magic ingredient required to attract the attention of the clams. Only the ClamLord had imagination enough to spare and daring enough to share. And only ClamLord gave a care for the regularity of clam posts. (heavy sigh) He posted like a covered wagon on fire rolling across the prairie at the height of drought season. And his words did spread. They did spread mightily and far-ly too. (not Farley Mowatt, just far-ly too.) And Timt looked out upon the confusion which he had created, and said, "I sure hope this pleases the ClamLord, (and annoys his serf-clam bad.clam wannabees.) For lo!, it pleaseth me!" And he winkethed. `( And with that, the Mighty Timt closed his eyes and ruminated in his rapidly feebling mind, on the awe and question marks that would shortly show themselves in the eyes of the Bay's newest hanger-on. Welcome a broad, little Kill Phyle. Now that you are here, let's see how long it takes you to settle in and become a true bad.clam. And with that, the clam Mass ended as abruptly (and peacefully) as it had begun. And again the voice of the golden-voiced one rang out over the Bay. It said, this mass has ended go in peace and be clammy todays gift: free clay from the cave TimT (as in, "There you go clams. don't track it into the cave, okay?" `( Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. ay-yup You from Maine? ay-nope VT? *looks at globe* I've always wanted to do a real-time comparison of the clock/counter-clock vortex phenomenon . . . maybe if I petitioned CSIRO and MIT? -- ah Sounds like there might be a grant in that for you. So when are you going to tire of these cascade games and lay your theory of everything on us? I have issues being labeled "weird". -- ah |
#3
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Clam Mass 10/22/06 Supernova sun clam wrath Part 4
"ah" wrote in message ... Double-A wrote: ah wrote: mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote: In article , ah wrote: mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote: In article , ah wrote: mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote: In article , ah wrote: Phil Kyle wrote: ah verbally sodomised in : Phil Kyle wrote: ah verbally sodomised in : Phil Kyle wrote: ah verbally sodomised in : Phil Kyle wrote: The Very Tim verbally sodomised in : wrote: Okay timt your on today hope you come though don't mess up. here we go ......mindless snippage of important set-up material..... This is the third reading from the book of Timt of Clay (Timt this is yours) Ahem ahem. Well, I'll give it a shot, even if it's only to provide Little Kill Phyle Clam with something to babble about, (now that he has been converted to a full-fledged and totally devoted a.b.c. Lurker `( (I know you're devoted little buddy, because I'm not cross-posting this stuff, so you have! to come into the Bay to read it. Come on now, admit it. You like! it here. And we like you! to like it here. But I digress.) Little Kill Phyle Clam looked about to see if any of the regular bad.clams had noticed him yet. (They hadn't, of course) He had tried using bad words and evil aspersions to earn the respect of the denizens of Beautiful Mollusc Bay, but alas, he was being ignored far and wide and hither and yonder and everywhere else he stuck his little siphon in, with his pitiable pleas for attention. "Will they never take pity on me?" thought Little Kill Phyle Clam, "Can't they see that I, too, am remarkably clever and astoot? (even if my speling does stink a bit) How can I earn their attention and high regard, I wonder?" But the clams noticed him not a whit. Far greater concerns concerned the clams of the noble and revered Mollusc Bay. They had a SuperNova Sun Clam Wrath(tm) with which to contend. The clams were watching the skies in hopes of an impending victory over whatever was out there. They already had! cleverness and beauty galore, and wisdom and wit to spare. But they lacked a gooey, muddy material with which to build wonderful things and arty facts. Whatever could they do? A dark calm came over the bay, and the clouds parted for a nonce or two.. "Let there be CLAY!" roared the golden voice of the silver-tongued ClamLord. And suddenly, there was clay; not merely a lump of clay, but a giant lump of clay with a large cave inside. A cave of clay, as they say. "Hmmm." thought Timt, (out loud) "what a swell place to sit and mediate for a while. It has relatively waterproof walls, and while not exactly fireproof, these walls can! convert themselves to the finest stoneware ramparts and crenellations and suchwhats. Perhaps I shall make my muddy headquarters here." And that is precisely what he did. He sat in the middle of a puddle of mud and clay and began to create. Oh what a mess that clam made! First, he annoyed the hangers-on by welcoming them to the Bay. (Truth be told, there was only 1 new hanger-on, but the prevailing exchange rate did take into account multiple personalities, so that one counts as many for the purposes of this telling.) Then, he tweaked their pointy little nose by not! reading any of their posts or follow-ups. And frankly, (no relation) all they did post were follow-ups, usually with dirty words included since those who have no proper ideas and words of interest to post are frequently confined to defining themselfs by using only dirty words and intended-to-be hurtful phrases because that is all their mommy ever gave them with which to work. And so they did. They typed furiously into the night, trying with great desperation to get some attention from the lordly and quiet-as-ever clams of Beautiful Mollusc Bay. Yet still, it did not work for them. Only the Mighty ClamLord could impress the geoducks and pseudopods of the bay. Only he had the magic ingredient required to attract the attention of the clams. Only the ClamLord had imagination enough to spare and daring enough to share. And only ClamLord gave a care for the regularity of clam posts. (heavy sigh) He posted like a covered wagon on fire rolling across the prairie at the height of drought season. And his words did spread. They did spread mightily and far-ly too. (not Farley Mowatt, just far-ly too.) And Timt looked out upon the confusion which he had created, and said, "I sure hope this pleases the ClamLord, (and annoys his serf-clam bad.clam wannabees.) For lo!, it pleaseth me!" And he winkethed. `( And with that, the Mighty Timt closed his eyes and ruminated in his rapidly feebling mind, on the awe and question marks that would shortly show themselves in the eyes of the Bay's newest hanger-on. Welcome a broad, little Kill Phyle. Now that you are here, let's see how long it takes you to settle in and become a true bad.clam. And with that, the clam Mass ended as abruptly (and peacefully) as it had begun. And again the voice of the golden-voiced one rang out over the Bay. It said, this mass has ended go in peace and be clammy todays gift: free clay from the cave TimT (as in, "There you go clams. don't track it into the cave, okay?" `( Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. ay-yup You from Maine? ay-nope VT? *looks at globe* I've always wanted to do a real-time comparison of the clock/counter-clock vortex phenomenon . . . maybe if I petitioned CSIRO and MIT? -- ah Sounds like there might be a grant in that for you. So when are you going to tire of these cascade games and lay your theory of everything on us? I have issues being labeled "weird". Why? |
#4
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Clam Mass 10/22/06 Supernova sun clam wrath Part 4
ah wrote: Double-A wrote: ah wrote: mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote: In article , ah wrote: mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote: In article , ah wrote: mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote: In article , ah wrote: Phil Kyle wrote: ah verbally sodomised in : Phil Kyle wrote: ah verbally sodomised in : Phil Kyle wrote: ah verbally sodomised in : Phil Kyle wrote: The Very Tim verbally sodomised in : wrote: Okay timt your on today hope you come though don't mess up. here we go ......mindless snippage of important set-up material..... This is the third reading from the book of Timt of Clay (Timt this is yours) Ahem ahem. Well, I'll give it a shot, even if it's only to provide Little Kill Phyle Clam with something to babble about, (now that he has been converted to a full-fledged and totally devoted a.b.c. Lurker `( (I know you're devoted little buddy, because I'm not cross-posting this stuff, so you have! to come into the Bay to read it. Come on now, admit it. You like! it here. And we like you! to like it here. But I digress.) Little Kill Phyle Clam looked about to see if any of the regular bad.clams had noticed him yet. (They hadn't, of course) He had tried using bad words and evil aspersions to earn the respect of the denizens of Beautiful Mollusc Bay, but alas, he was being ignored far and wide and hither and yonder and everywhere else he stuck his little siphon in, with his pitiable pleas for attention. "Will they never take pity on me?" thought Little Kill Phyle Clam, "Can't they see that I, too, am remarkably clever and astoot? (even if my speling does stink a bit) How can I earn their attention and high regard, I wonder?" But the clams noticed him not a whit. Far greater concerns concerned the clams of the noble and revered Mollusc Bay. They had a SuperNova Sun Clam Wrath(tm) with which to contend. The clams were watching the skies in hopes of an impending victory over whatever was out there. They already had! cleverness and beauty galore, and wisdom and wit to spare. But they lacked a gooey, muddy material with which to build wonderful things and arty facts. Whatever could they do? A dark calm came over the bay, and the clouds parted for a nonce or two.. "Let there be CLAY!" roared the golden voice of the silver-tongued ClamLord. And suddenly, there was clay; not merely a lump of clay, but a giant lump of clay with a large cave inside. A cave of clay, as they say. "Hmmm." thought Timt, (out loud) "what a swell place to sit and mediate for a while. It has relatively waterproof walls, and while not exactly fireproof, these walls can! convert themselves to the finest stoneware ramparts and crenellations and suchwhats. Perhaps I shall make my muddy headquarters here." And that is precisely what he did. He sat in the middle of a puddle of mud and clay and began to create. Oh what a mess that clam made! First, he annoyed the hangers-on by welcoming them to the Bay. (Truth be told, there was only 1 new hanger-on, but the prevailing exchange rate did take into account multiple personalities, so that one counts as many for the purposes of this telling.) Then, he tweaked their pointy little nose by not! reading any of their posts or follow-ups. And frankly, (no relation) all they did post were follow-ups, usually with dirty words included since those who have no proper ideas and words of interest to post are frequently confined to defining themselfs by using only dirty words and intended-to-be hurtful phrases because that is all their mommy ever gave them with which to work. And so they did. They typed furiously into the night, trying with great desperation to get some attention from the lordly and quiet-as-ever clams of Beautiful Mollusc Bay. Yet still, it did not work for them. Only the Mighty ClamLord could impress the geoducks and pseudopods of the bay. Only he had the magic ingredient required to attract the attention of the clams. Only the ClamLord had imagination enough to spare and daring enough to share. And only ClamLord gave a care for the regularity of clam posts. (heavy sigh) He posted like a covered wagon on fire rolling across the prairie at the height of drought season. And his words did spread. They did spread mightily and far-ly too. (not Farley Mowatt, just far-ly too.) And Timt looked out upon the confusion which he had created, and said, "I sure hope this pleases the ClamLord, (and annoys his serf-clam bad.clam wannabees.) For lo!, it pleaseth me!" And he winkethed. `( And with that, the Mighty Timt closed his eyes and ruminated in his rapidly feebling mind, on the awe and question marks that would shortly show themselves in the eyes of the Bay's newest hanger-on. Welcome a broad, little Kill Phyle. Now that you are here, let's see how long it takes you to settle in and become a true bad.clam. And with that, the clam Mass ended as abruptly (and peacefully) as it had begun. And again the voice of the golden-voiced one rang out over the Bay. It said, this mass has ended go in peace and be clammy todays gift: free clay from the cave TimT (as in, "There you go clams. don't track it into the cave, okay?" `( Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. ay-yup You from Maine? ay-nope VT? *looks at globe* I've always wanted to do a real-time comparison of the clock/counter-clock vortex phenomenon . . . maybe if I petitioned CSIRO and MIT? -- ah Sounds like there might be a grant in that for you. So when are you going to tire of these cascade games and lay your theory of everything on us? I have issues being labeled "weird". -- ah That's OK. In alt.astronomy we are very supportive of weirdos like you! Double-A |
#5
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Clam Mass 10/22/06 Supernova sun clam wrath Part 4
Double-A wrote:
ah wrote: Double-A wrote: ah wrote: mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote: In article , ah wrote: mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote: In article , ah wrote: mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote: In article , ah wrote: Phil Kyle wrote: ah verbally sodomised in : Phil Kyle wrote: ah verbally sodomised in : Phil Kyle wrote: ah verbally sodomised in : Phil Kyle wrote: The Very Tim verbally sodomised in : wrote: Okay timt your on today hope you come though don't mess up. here we go ......mindless snippage of important set-up material..... This is the third reading from the book of Timt of Clay (Timt this is yours) Ahem ahem. Well, I'll give it a shot, even if it's only to provide Little Kill Phyle Clam with something to babble about, (now that he has been converted to a full-fledged and totally devoted a.b.c. Lurker `( (I know you're devoted little buddy, because I'm not cross-posting this stuff, so you have! to come into the Bay to read it. Come on now, admit it. You like! it here. And we like you! to like it here. But I digress.) Little Kill Phyle Clam looked about to see if any of the regular bad.clams had noticed him yet. (They hadn't, of course) He had tried using bad words and evil aspersions to earn the respect of the denizens of Beautiful Mollusc Bay, but alas, he was being ignored far and wide and hither and yonder and everywhere else he stuck his little siphon in, with his pitiable pleas for attention. "Will they never take pity on me?" thought Little Kill Phyle Clam, "Can't they see that I, too, am remarkably clever and astoot? (even if my speling does stink a bit) How can I earn their attention and high regard, I wonder?" But the clams noticed him not a whit. Far greater concerns concerned the clams of the noble and revered Mollusc Bay. They had a SuperNova Sun Clam Wrath(tm) with which to contend. The clams were watching the skies in hopes of an impending victory over whatever was out there. They already had! cleverness and beauty galore, and wisdom and wit to spare. But they lacked a gooey, muddy material with which to build wonderful things and arty facts. Whatever could they do? A dark calm came over the bay, and the clouds parted for a nonce or two.. "Let there be CLAY!" roared the golden voice of the silver-tongued ClamLord. And suddenly, there was clay; not merely a lump of clay, but a giant lump of clay with a large cave inside. A cave of clay, as they say. "Hmmm." thought Timt, (out loud) "what a swell place to sit and mediate for a while. It has relatively waterproof walls, and while not exactly fireproof, these walls can! convert themselves to the finest stoneware ramparts and crenellations and suchwhats. Perhaps I shall make my muddy headquarters here." And that is precisely what he did. He sat in the middle of a puddle of mud and clay and began to create. Oh what a mess that clam made! First, he annoyed the hangers-on by welcoming them to the Bay. (Truth be told, there was only 1 new hanger-on, but the prevailing exchange rate did take into account multiple personalities, so that one counts as many for the purposes of this telling.) Then, he tweaked their pointy little nose by not! reading any of their posts or follow-ups. And frankly, (no relation) all they did post were follow-ups, usually with dirty words included since those who have no proper ideas and words of interest to post are frequently confined to defining themselfs by using only dirty words and intended-to-be hurtful phrases because that is all their mommy ever gave them with which to work. And so they did. They typed furiously into the night, trying with great desperation to get some attention from the lordly and quiet-as-ever clams of Beautiful Mollusc Bay. Yet still, it did not work for them. Only the Mighty ClamLord could impress the geoducks and pseudopods of the bay. Only he had the magic ingredient required to attract the attention of the clams. Only the ClamLord had imagination enough to spare and daring enough to share. And only ClamLord gave a care for the regularity of clam posts. (heavy sigh) He posted like a covered wagon on fire rolling across the prairie at the height of drought season. And his words did spread. They did spread mightily and far-ly too. (not Farley Mowatt, just far-ly too.) And Timt looked out upon the confusion which he had created, and said, "I sure hope this pleases the ClamLord, (and annoys his serf-clam bad.clam wannabees.) For lo!, it pleaseth me!" And he winkethed. `( And with that, the Mighty Timt closed his eyes and ruminated in his rapidly feebling mind, on the awe and question marks that would shortly show themselves in the eyes of the Bay's newest hanger-on. Welcome a broad, little Kill Phyle. Now that you are here, let's see how long it takes you to settle in and become a true bad.clam. And with that, the clam Mass ended as abruptly (and peacefully) as it had begun. And again the voice of the golden-voiced one rang out over the Bay. It said, this mass has ended go in peace and be clammy todays gift: free clay from the cave TimT (as in, "There you go clams. don't track it into the cave, okay?" `( Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. ay-yup You from Maine? ay-nope VT? *looks at globe* I've always wanted to do a real-time comparison of the clock/counter-clock vortex phenomenon . . . maybe if I petitioned CSIRO and MIT? -- ah Sounds like there might be a grant in that for you. So when are you going to tire of these cascade games and lay your theory of everything on us? I have issues being labeled "weird". -- ah That's OK. In alt.astronomy we are very supportive of weirdos like you! *badum-ching* -- ah |
#6
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Clam Mass 10/22/06 Supernova sun clam wrath Part 4
Michael Baldwin, Bruce wrote:
Weird ah Yankovich wrote: Double-Anus wrote: ah wrote: mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote: In article , ah wrote: mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote: In article , ah wrote: mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote: In article , ah wrote: Phil Kyle wrote: ah verbally sodomised in : Phil Kyle wrote: ah verbally sodomised in : Phil Kyle wrote: ah verbally sodomised in : Phil Kyle wrote: The Very Tim verbally sodomised in : wrote: Okay timt your on today hope you come though don't mess up. here we go ......mindless snippage of important set-up material..... This is the third reading from the book of Timt of Clay (Timt this is yours) Ahem ahem. Well, I'll give it a shot, even if it's only to provide Little Kill Phyle Clam with something to babble about, (now that he has been converted to a full-fledged and totally devoted a.b.c. Lurker `( (I know you're devoted little buddy, because I'm not cross-posting this stuff, so you have! to come into the Bay to read it. Come on now, admit it. You like! it here. And we like you! to like it here. But I digress.) Little Kill Phyle Clam looked about to see if any of the regular bad.clams had noticed him yet. (They hadn't, of course) He had tried using bad words and evil aspersions to earn the respect of the denizens of Beautiful Mollusc Bay, but alas, he was being ignored far and wide and hither and yonder and everywhere else he stuck his little siphon in, with his pitiable pleas for attention. "Will they never take pity on me?" thought Little Kill Phyle Clam, "Can't they see that I, too, am remarkably clever and astoot? (even if my speling does stink a bit) How can I earn their attention and high regard, I wonder?" But the clams noticed him not a whit. Far greater concerns concerned the clams of the noble and revered Mollusc Bay. They had a SuperNova Sun Clam Wrath(tm) with which to contend. The clams were watching the skies in hopes of an impending victory over whatever was out there. They already had! cleverness and beauty galore, and wisdom and wit to spare. But they lacked a gooey, muddy material with which to build wonderful things and arty facts. Whatever could they do? A dark calm came over the bay, and the clouds parted for a nonce or two.. "Let there be CLAY!" roared the golden voice of the silver-tongued ClamLord. And suddenly, there was clay; not merely a lump of clay, but a giant lump of clay with a large cave inside. A cave of clay, as they say. "Hmmm." thought Timt, (out loud) "what a swell place to sit and mediate for a while. It has relatively waterproof walls, and while not exactly fireproof, these walls can! convert themselves to the finest stoneware ramparts and crenellations and suchwhats. Perhaps I shall make my muddy headquarters here." And that is precisely what he did. He sat in the middle of a puddle of mud and clay and began to create. Oh what a mess that clam made! First, he annoyed the hangers-on by welcoming them to the Bay. (Truth be told, there was only 1 new hanger-on, but the prevailing exchange rate did take into account multiple personalities, so that one counts as many for the purposes of this telling.) Then, he tweaked their pointy little nose by not! reading any of their posts or follow-ups. And frankly, (no relation) all they did post were follow-ups, usually with dirty words included since those who have no proper ideas and words of interest to post are frequently confined to defining themselfs by using only dirty words and intended-to-be hurtful phrases because that is all their mommy ever gave them with which to work. And so they did. They typed furiously into the night, trying with great desperation to get some attention from the lordly and quiet-as-ever clams of Beautiful Mollusc Bay. Yet still, it did not work for them. Only the Mighty ClamLord could impress the geoducks and pseudopods of the bay. Only he had the magic ingredient required to attract the attention of the clams. Only the ClamLord had imagination enough to spare and daring enough to share. And only ClamLord gave a care for the regularity of clam posts. (heavy sigh) He posted like a covered wagon on fire rolling across the prairie at the height of drought season. And his words did spread. They did spread mightily and far-ly too. (not Farley Mowatt, just far-ly too.) And Timt looked out upon the confusion which he had created, and said, "I sure hope this pleases the ClamLord, (and annoys his serf-clam bad.clam wannabees.) For lo!, it pleaseth me!" And he winkethed. `( And with that, the Mighty Timt closed his eyes and ruminated in his rapidly feebling mind, on the awe and question marks that would shortly show themselves in the eyes of the Bay's newest hanger-on. Welcome a broad, little Kill Phyle. Now that you are here, let's see how long it takes you to settle in and become a true bad.clam. And with that, the clam Mass ended as abruptly (and peacefully) as it had begun. And again the voice of the golden-voiced one rang out over the Bay. It said, this mass has ended go in peace and be clammy todays gift: free clay from the cave TimT (as in, "There you go clams. don't track it into the cave, okay?" `( Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. ay-yup You from Maine? ay-nope VT? *looks at globe* I've always wanted to do a real-time comparison of the clock/counter-clock vortex phenomenon . . . maybe if I petitioned CSIRO and MIT? -- ah Sounds like there might be a grant in that for you. So when are you going to tire of these cascade games and lay your theory of everything on us? I have issues being labeled "weird". Why is that, ah thole? *ribbet* -- ah |
#7
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Clam Mass 10/22/06 Supernova sun clam wrath Part 4
honestjohn wrote:
"ah" wrote in message ... Double-A wrote: ah wrote: mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote: In article , ah wrote: mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote: In article , ah wrote: mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote: In article , ah wrote: Phil Kyle wrote: ah verbally sodomised in : Phil Kyle wrote: ah verbally sodomised in : Phil Kyle wrote: ah verbally sodomised in : Phil Kyle wrote: The Very Tim verbally sodomised in : wrote: Okay timt your on today hope you come though don't mess up. here we go ......mindless snippage of important set-up material..... This is the third reading from the book of Timt of Clay (Timt this is yours) Ahem ahem. Well, I'll give it a shot, even if it's only to provide Little Kill Phyle Clam with something to babble about, (now that he has been converted to a full-fledged and totally devoted a.b.c. Lurker `( (I know you're devoted little buddy, because I'm not cross-posting this stuff, so you have! to come into the Bay to read it. Come on now, admit it. You like! it here. And we like you! to like it here. But I digress.) Little Kill Phyle Clam looked about to see if any of the regular bad.clams had noticed him yet. (They hadn't, of course) He had tried using bad words and evil aspersions to earn the respect of the denizens of Beautiful Mollusc Bay, but alas, he was being ignored far and wide and hither and yonder and everywhere else he stuck his little siphon in, with his pitiable pleas for attention. "Will they never take pity on me?" thought Little Kill Phyle Clam, "Can't they see that I, too, am remarkably clever and astoot? (even if my speling does stink a bit) How can I earn their attention and high regard, I wonder?" But the clams noticed him not a whit. Far greater concerns concerned the clams of the noble and revered Mollusc Bay. They had a SuperNova Sun Clam Wrath(tm) with which to contend. The clams were watching the skies in hopes of an impending victory over whatever was out there. They already had! cleverness and beauty galore, and wisdom and wit to spare. But they lacked a gooey, muddy material with which to build wonderful things and arty facts. Whatever could they do? A dark calm came over the bay, and the clouds parted for a nonce or two.. "Let there be CLAY!" roared the golden voice of the silver-tongued ClamLord. And suddenly, there was clay; not merely a lump of clay, but a giant lump of clay with a large cave inside. A cave of clay, as they say. "Hmmm." thought Timt, (out loud) "what a swell place to sit and mediate for a while. It has relatively waterproof walls, and while not exactly fireproof, these walls can! convert themselves to the finest stoneware ramparts and crenellations and suchwhats. Perhaps I shall make my muddy headquarters here." And that is precisely what he did. He sat in the middle of a puddle of mud and clay and began to create. Oh what a mess that clam made! First, he annoyed the hangers-on by welcoming them to the Bay. (Truth be told, there was only 1 new hanger-on, but the prevailing exchange rate did take into account multiple personalities, so that one counts as many for the purposes of this telling.) Then, he tweaked their pointy little nose by not! reading any of their posts or follow-ups. And frankly, (no relation) all they did post were follow-ups, usually with dirty words included since those who have no proper ideas and words of interest to post are frequently confined to defining themselfs by using only dirty words and intended-to-be hurtful phrases because that is all their mommy ever gave them with which to work. And so they did. They typed furiously into the night, trying with great desperation to get some attention from the lordly and quiet-as-ever clams of Beautiful Mollusc Bay. Yet still, it did not work for them. Only the Mighty ClamLord could impress the geoducks and pseudopods of the bay. Only he had the magic ingredient required to attract the attention of the clams. Only the ClamLord had imagination enough to spare and daring enough to share. And only ClamLord gave a care for the regularity of clam posts. (heavy sigh) He posted like a covered wagon on fire rolling across the prairie at the height of drought season. And his words did spread. They did spread mightily and far-ly too. (not Farley Mowatt, just far-ly too.) And Timt looked out upon the confusion which he had created, and said, "I sure hope this pleases the ClamLord, (and annoys his serf-clam bad.clam wannabees.) For lo!, it pleaseth me!" And he winkethed. `( And with that, the Mighty Timt closed his eyes and ruminated in his rapidly feebling mind, on the awe and question marks that would shortly show themselves in the eyes of the Bay's newest hanger-on. Welcome a broad, little Kill Phyle. Now that you are here, let's see how long it takes you to settle in and become a true bad.clam. And with that, the clam Mass ended as abruptly (and peacefully) as it had begun. And again the voice of the golden-voiced one rang out over the Bay. It said, this mass has ended go in peace and be clammy todays gift: free clay from the cave TimT (as in, "There you go clams. don't track it into the cave, okay?" `( Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. ay-yup You from Maine? ay-nope VT? *looks at globe* I've always wanted to do a real-time comparison of the clock/counter-clock vortex phenomenon . . . maybe if I petitioned CSIRO and MIT? -- ah Sounds like there might be a grant in that for you. So when are you going to tire of these cascade games and lay your theory of everything on us? I have issues being labeled "weird". Why? STOP STALKING ME!!1! -- ah |
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Clam Mass 10/22/06 Supernova sun clam wrath Part 4
"ah" wrote in message ... honestjohn wrote: "ah" wrote in message ... Double-A wrote: ah wrote: mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote: In article , ah wrote: mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote: In article , ah wrote: mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote: In article , ah wrote: Phil Kyle wrote: ah verbally sodomised in : Phil Kyle wrote: ah verbally sodomised in : Phil Kyle wrote: ah verbally sodomised in : Phil Kyle wrote: The Very Tim verbally sodomised in : wrote: Okay timt your on today hope you come though don't mess up. here we go ......mindless snippage of important set-up material..... This is the third reading from the book of Timt of Clay (Timt this is yours) Ahem ahem. Well, I'll give it a shot, even if it's only to provide Little Kill Phyle Clam with something to babble about, (now that he has been converted to a full-fledged and totally devoted a.b.c. Lurker `( (I know you're devoted little buddy, because I'm not cross-posting this stuff, so you have! to come into the Bay to read it. Come on now, admit it. You like! it here. And we like you! to like it here. But I digress.) Little Kill Phyle Clam looked about to see if any of the regular bad.clams had noticed him yet. (They hadn't, of course) He had tried using bad words and evil aspersions to earn the respect of the denizens of Beautiful Mollusc Bay, but alas, he was being ignored far and wide and hither and yonder and everywhere else he stuck his little siphon in, with his pitiable pleas for attention. "Will they never take pity on me?" thought Little Kill Phyle Clam, "Can't they see that I, too, am remarkably clever and astoot? (even if my speling does stink a bit) How can I earn their attention and high regard, I wonder?" But the clams noticed him not a whit. Far greater concerns concerned the clams of the noble and revered Mollusc Bay. They had a SuperNova Sun Clam Wrath(tm) with which to contend. The clams were watching the skies in hopes of an impending victory over whatever was out there. They already had! cleverness and beauty galore, and wisdom and wit to spare. But they lacked a gooey, muddy material with which to build wonderful things and arty facts. Whatever could they do? A dark calm came over the bay, and the clouds parted for a nonce or two.. "Let there be CLAY!" roared the golden voice of the silver-tongued ClamLord. And suddenly, there was clay; not merely a lump of clay, but a giant lump of clay with a large cave inside. A cave of clay, as they say. "Hmmm." thought Timt, (out loud) "what a swell place to sit and mediate for a while. It has relatively waterproof walls, and while not exactly fireproof, these walls can! convert themselves to the finest stoneware ramparts and crenellations and suchwhats. Perhaps I shall make my muddy headquarters here." And that is precisely what he did. He sat in the middle of a puddle of mud and clay and began to create. Oh what a mess that clam made! First, he annoyed the hangers-on by welcoming them to the Bay. (Truth be told, there was only 1 new hanger-on, but the prevailing exchange rate did take into account multiple personalities, so that one counts as many for the purposes of this telling.) Then, he tweaked their pointy little nose by not! reading any of their posts or follow-ups. And frankly, (no relation) all they did post were follow-ups, usually with dirty words included since those who have no proper ideas and words of interest to post are frequently confined to defining themselfs by using only dirty words and intended-to-be hurtful phrases because that is all their mommy ever gave them with which to work. And so they did. They typed furiously into the night, trying with great desperation to get some attention from the lordly and quiet-as-ever clams of Beautiful Mollusc Bay. Yet still, it did not work for them. Only the Mighty ClamLord could impress the geoducks and pseudopods of the bay. Only he had the magic ingredient required to attract the attention of the clams. Only the ClamLord had imagination enough to spare and daring enough to share. And only ClamLord gave a care for the regularity of clam posts. (heavy sigh) He posted like a covered wagon on fire rolling across the prairie at the height of drought season. And his words did spread. They did spread mightily and far-ly too. (not Farley Mowatt, just far-ly too.) And Timt looked out upon the confusion which he had created, and said, "I sure hope this pleases the ClamLord, (and annoys his serf-clam bad.clam wannabees.) For lo!, it pleaseth me!" And he winkethed. `( And with that, the Mighty Timt closed his eyes and ruminated in his rapidly feebling mind, on the awe and question marks that would shortly show themselves in the eyes of the Bay's newest hanger-on. Welcome a broad, little Kill Phyle. Now that you are here, let's see how long it takes you to settle in and become a true bad.clam. And with that, the clam Mass ended as abruptly (and peacefully) as it had begun. And again the voice of the golden-voiced one rang out over the Bay. It said, this mass has ended go in peace and be clammy todays gift: free clay from the cave TimT (as in, "There you go clams. don't track it into the cave, okay?" `( Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. ay-yup You from Maine? ay-nope VT? *looks at globe* I've always wanted to do a real-time comparison of the clock/counter-clock vortex phenomenon . . . maybe if I petitioned CSIRO and MIT? -- ah Sounds like there might be a grant in that for you. So when are you going to tire of these cascade games and lay your theory of everything on us? I have issues being labeled "weird". Why? STOP STALKING ME!!1! But you're my dad, Andrew, and mom needs you back home! |
#9
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Clam Mass 10/22/06 Supernova sun clam wrath Part 4
"ah" wrote in message ... honestjohn wrote: "ah" wrote in message ... honestjohn wrote: "ah" wrote in message ... Double-A wrote: ah wrote: mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote: In article , ah wrote: mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote: In article , ah wrote: mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote: In article , ah wrote: Phil Kyle wrote: ah verbally sodomised in : Phil Kyle wrote: ah verbally sodomised in : Phil Kyle wrote: ah verbally sodomised in : Phil Kyle wrote: The Very Tim verbally sodomised in : wrote: Okay timt your on today hope you come though don't mess up. here we go ......mindless snippage of important set-up material..... This is the third reading from the book of Timt of Clay (Timt this is yours) Ahem ahem. Well, I'll give it a shot, even if it's only to provide Little Kill Phyle Clam with something to babble about, (now that he has been converted to a full-fledged and totally devoted a.b.c. Lurker `( (I know you're devoted little buddy, because I'm not cross-posting this stuff, so you have! to come into the Bay to read it. Come on now, admit it. You like! it here. And we like you! to like it here. But I digress.) Little Kill Phyle Clam looked about to see if any of the regular bad.clams had noticed him yet. (They hadn't, of course) He had tried using bad words and evil aspersions to earn the respect of the denizens of Beautiful Mollusc Bay, but alas, he was being ignored far and wide and hither and yonder and everywhere else he stuck his little siphon in, with his pitiable pleas for attention. "Will they never take pity on me?" thought Little Kill Phyle Clam, "Can't they see that I, too, am remarkably clever and astoot? (even if my speling does stink a bit) How can I earn their attention and high regard, I wonder?" But the clams noticed him not a whit. Far greater concerns concerned the clams of the noble and revered Mollusc Bay. They had a SuperNova Sun Clam Wrath(tm) with which to contend. The clams were watching the skies in hopes of an impending victory over whatever was out there. They already had! cleverness and beauty galore, and wisdom and wit to spare. But they lacked a gooey, muddy material with which to build wonderful things and arty facts. Whatever could they do? A dark calm came over the bay, and the clouds parted for a nonce or two.. "Let there be CLAY!" roared the golden voice of the silver-tongued ClamLord. And suddenly, there was clay; not merely a lump of clay, but a giant lump of clay with a large cave inside. A cave of clay, as they say. "Hmmm." thought Timt, (out loud) "what a swell place to sit and mediate for a while. It has relatively waterproof walls, and while not exactly fireproof, these walls can! convert themselves to the finest stoneware ramparts and crenellations and suchwhats. Perhaps I shall make my muddy headquarters here." And that is precisely what he did. He sat in the middle of a puddle of mud and clay and began to create. Oh what a mess that clam made! First, he annoyed the hangers-on by welcoming them to the Bay. (Truth be told, there was only 1 new hanger-on, but the prevailing exchange rate did take into account multiple personalities, so that one counts as many for the purposes of this telling.) Then, he tweaked their pointy little nose by not! reading any of their posts or follow-ups. And frankly, (no relation) all they did post were follow-ups, usually with dirty words included since those who have no proper ideas and words of interest to post are frequently confined to defining themselfs by using only dirty words and intended-to-be hurtful phrases because that is all their mommy ever gave them with which to work. And so they did. They typed furiously into the night, trying with great desperation to get some attention from the lordly and quiet-as-ever clams of Beautiful Mollusc Bay. Yet still, it did not work for them. Only the Mighty ClamLord could impress the geoducks and pseudopods of the bay. Only he had the magic ingredient required to attract the attention of the clams. Only the ClamLord had imagination enough to spare and daring enough to share. And only ClamLord gave a care for the regularity of clam posts. (heavy sigh) He posted like a covered wagon on fire rolling across the prairie at the height of drought season. And his words did spread. They did spread mightily and far-ly too. (not Farley Mowatt, just far-ly too.) And Timt looked out upon the confusion which he had created, and said, "I sure hope this pleases the ClamLord, (and annoys his serf-clam bad.clam wannabees.) For lo!, it pleaseth me!" And he winkethed. `( And with that, the Mighty Timt closed his eyes and ruminated in his rapidly feebling mind, on the awe and question marks that would shortly show themselves in the eyes of the Bay's newest hanger-on. Welcome a broad, little Kill Phyle. Now that you are here, let's see how long it takes you to settle in and become a true bad.clam. And with that, the clam Mass ended as abruptly (and peacefully) as it had begun. And again the voice of the golden-voiced one rang out over the Bay. It said, this mass has ended go in peace and be clammy todays gift: free clay from the cave TimT (as in, "There you go clams. don't track it into the cave, okay?" `( Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. Yup. ay-yup You from Maine? ay-nope VT? *looks at globe* I've always wanted to do a real-time comparison of the clock/counter-clock vortex phenomenon . . . maybe if I petitioned CSIRO and MIT? -- ah Sounds like there might be a grant in that for you. So when are you going to tire of these cascade games and lay your theory of everything on us? I have issues being labeled "weird". Why? STOP STALKING ME!!1! But you're my dad, Andrew, and mom needs you back home! Mom's living in Paris, now. She doesn't need us anymore. Oh no, then who's this old woman living in the tool shed? |
#10
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NEWS ITEM: 3 Usenet k0oKs invade k0oK group alt.bad.clams
"Double-A" wrote in message oups.com... ah wrote: Phil Kyle wrote: "Kadaitcha Man" verbally sodomised in : honestjohn , the over-reactive coachman, bellyached: "Double-A" wrote: ^^^^^^^^^^^^ 2 k0oKs ah wrote: ^^^^^ 3 k0oKs It's an invasion. No ****! Try a laxative. Ah isn't a kook. Is so! -- ah You got that right! "ah" is getting smarter the longer he hangs around us, ain't that right, D-A? |
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