Edited by author 09-19-2003 02:28 PM
the ________!
a ____!
easy directions:to make things easier for yourself, add to your
host file this one line of
65.125.236.166 _____.___. five underscores dot three underscores. (pronounced like a wind blowing (or radio (...) losing its only comforting whistle).) then use
http://_____.___/ and i don't know why i'm writing this, but i had a twin brother who did the same thing and he made it actually.
harder directions:yes, i will print imaginary news, as long as you have a legitimate source. blood relatives do not count. i mean: celebs, lot techs, innkeepers, anyone answering an 1-800 (not 1-888), and well-groomed bystanders whom you chance to encounter in erotic fantasies. (my basic rule is: fantasy football does not count as an erotic fantasy (unless an audible is called) which can't happen.) no leeching. please only
telnet:// style of links. please no more pictures of the man's thumb.
he's an importer exporterembodied the spirit of the latex industry.
the serenity now. and now he has become the
archetypical male in technical documentation.
Discuss posted by why at 5:29 AM |
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grouchy boys engender Cute Dictatorshipsin the war room.
on the street.
possession of public transportation.
rise to dominance.
Discuss posted by why at 2:30 AM |
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PWPHN!CXidiot sucker that i am. stumbled on previous years of
1 and
2 abridged english (sms) poetry. the authors txt the message to
07786 207 207 and just let it go.
Wen d lunarmodule /
lifted off /
it lft behind: /
boots / backpacks /
mt f%d packages /
bags ful of urine /
n 1 **== /
(which fell over)
now i'm having fun
converting stephen crane
poetry. i get sick of typing this stuff longhand.
A LernD mang came 2 me 1ce.
He sed, "I knO d way, -- cum."
& I wz overjoyed @ DIS.
2geder we hastened.
s%n, too s%n, wer we
whr my eyes wer useless,
& I knew not d ways of my feet.
I clung 2 d h& of my frNd;
bt @ last he cried, "I M 404."
Discuss posted by why at 1:43 AM |
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don't spin a top when you are like thisso we're all
getting worked up about the bords being down. that's fine. it's late. we're all tired. but there's no excuse for all this infighting. i mean we're worse than the
tourrettes message board.
tell ya what. i think what might help all of us relax a bit is to learn some of these
lines that cops use on criminals. these are the sorts of things that xeni and cory could say to some of these offenders. zeni's already pretty good at comebacks. she has these really good
self-deprecating ones.
cory tends to just say whatever. maybe a joke about a thin man or something really light. most times he's eating a small side salad and can't really bother.
i actually think the "
Sorry, the topic you're looking for has been deleted by its creator." comeback is pretty damn funny, too. i mean it's nothing to open a cold one over, but you know: that's
the stuff.
Discuss posted by why at 8:31 AM |
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such as are casually standing in our gumsteach those attentive small ones in your mouth to respect the
six apostles. let us leave the
seventh. he has long gone and dwelt in a carnaval de fruta, his passions held fast by a hiccup bubble.
Discuss posted by why at 6:23 PM |
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we want a tambourine!
/
| we want all a tambourine!
| /
\__ |
/ o o \__/\__/\_
/. \ o o \____
/' ----/ \
______ / ' / /.\\ #------/
/ / / \\
/ ///
/so \
/\ \me time\\..
/pp/ \s these pictur\\
/es/ \don't w\ \ork out\
*** *** right but i
think this time
they did
ooo o
oo
o
o
{o}
^Thanks, Little Monster Angel!Discuss posted by why at 8:43 PM |
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we've walked that concourse, we've held that giraffei need to hire extra help to cover the animorph movement. don't get near me if all you've got is the pictures of the bands with the goat/dog/wolf costumes. of course, who doesn't. but i've also got the pictures of the heaps of kids (in cat suits) who watch these bands and sit on the floor, grooming each other and reading the animorph books. and that entire construction team that works in cat suits. this is all pretty standard fare.
i have no clue how they're all staying alive without kandrona rays, however.
Discuss posted by why at 6:23 PM |
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thrive(live!)as i've mentioned in personal correspondence, my sister is working on getting a grant from the government which will fund a project to decorate buildings with beautiful people. elegant individuals from a broad range of lifestyles and cultures will be paid to mingle in the crowds, to dance randomly, and (if they are acrobatic) to interact with the building's architecture directly. they will roam the city, as a troupe, spreading their wonderous energy and arousing citizens.
the idea is called Thrive(Live!) and consists of three primary cross-sections of peopledancers:
- TenKey: patted-down business attire, representing the blue-collar, with clerical work at the forefront. usually walking with a brisk gait in square or angled patterns. occassional brigade of Women Measuring Things. boomerang throwing at 3 pm.
- Poison on Rye: sexy, off-kilt, heavily saturated, jamaicans in tank tops/mesh shirts. mallwalkers. fat brazilian men cradling white septuplets. some Very Tan and Elderly. a jungle of flesh. allowed to use smoke bombs in the library. a morning show in which they all wear coordinated t-shirts and Keds.
- IZap21Times: robotica, velvet outfits which enforce martial law and read from long scrolls written in HTML code and use plexiglass emoticons. sheep with emoticons sheared. bird beaks stuck in emoticon-shaped six-pack holders.
oh and she still needs someone to write the variations on our main song which incorporates repetitions of the words: Thrive, Live!, along with some references to possible sponsors: Frito-Lay or Pepsi. although, there is worry that Pepsi may fork off their own independent, commercially-funded group of similiar campaign.
Discuss posted by why at 8:15 AM |
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sherman-mccoy? Has he written you or prevailed upon you in ANY WAY such as I have?Discuss posted by why at 6:23 PM |
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shocking breakfast-man-inside final newsletteri am horrified. i had no idea what i was being signed up for. this is generating a lot of talk, but it's going to be awhile before anyone can even talk about how to start beginning to cope.
Dear Breakfast-Man-ites, All of Us:
Sorry to interrupt your otherwise pleasant morning. I know how delicate these things can be.
Yesterday one of our employees sent out an alarming message to all of our users indicating that their accounts were expiring. If you haven't recevied an e-mail with such verbage, brace yourself for the experience. Many of our customers in good standing (some who have kept the Breakfast-Man inside with us for nearly a quarter-decade) were alarmed, frustrated, demeaned and downtrodden by news of this action by BMI.
This action is irreparable. I cannot just put my mouth on the entire internet and suck the bad news back into my esophagus so it can safely explode within the confines of my stomach. I cannot do this, though I have every inclination, every carnal instinct, to do so.
I have felt your toils. I have toiled right there with the best of them. When I heard the news, I had my secretary (you know him as Steady Eddie)-- I had Steady Eddie laserprint me a list of all of you customers. Then, I stood at my vast windows, overlooking the branmarts and the smoky pylons of the city, and I read each of your names, out loud, so I could hear each name pop out of me and know the magnitude of what had just happened.
I realize that this is the end of our Breakfast-Man-Inside Club. I will not make any effort today to deny the penalty of this harsh, very difficult, very harsh, very deliberate action by our company. By we who have long been comrades-in-arms.
At any rate, I cannot say that I have been completely faithful to this organization. A year after I started the Breakfast-Man-Inside club (then known as the Cult of Waffles Within), I began trading briefcases with other like-minded businessmen during the day. We would meet without speaking and knowingly flash our eyes at each other, discreetly trade our briefcases, walk away calmly. Then, once out of site, gallop back to our credenzas to see what was in the briefcase.
As the circle grew larger, so did the addiction. I have seen too much inside those briefcases to continue to pretend that I have kept my Breakfast-Man inside. One day, in June of last year, I let my Breakfast-Man out through a cavity I bore in my abdomen. I placed him in one of those briefcases that is now travelling the globe, amongst the businessmen of the High Velocity Attache Swapping Conduit. I let him out and I loved it.
So I say to you: farewell. Thank you for letting me be to us an icon of our joint inner suppressions.
Stevie Mondragon
President and CXO, Breakfast-Man-Inside Club
Raisins and milk, raisins and milk
If you're Zachary Taylor, it goes down like silk.
Discussposted by why at 4:53 AM |
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in a year of great and accomplished talkingquit complaining about my broken links! what do you expect from
/m1? this thing isn't full-fledged. it's a deserted closet. i've got a spinning tie rack philliping my nose. soon the article that links this thread, which ensures our livelihood here, will be archived and buried. but who says coffindwellers can't be busy? who says windowwellers can't forecast from behind corrugated metal?
keep em coming, america morgan fairchild.
Discussposted by why at 4:10 AM |
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stop that (whatever)with
friends like this, who needs a correctional officer? you just don't smile like that unless you have an electric baton and direct access to the ribcage like so.
Discussposted by why at 12:37 AM |
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wha* -- exp* -- ?cylipso, you're going to have to resend. i got the Breakfast-Man-Inside Club membership, but they expired me.
*** YOUR ACCOUNT IS EXPIRING ***
Account Code: ES4-7979
Customer: why the lucky stiff
Address: 4 Triad, Suite 500
SLC, Ut 84018
Sex: Male
Strength: 40
Charisma: 12
Location of Customer's Breakfast-Man: Inside
*** END CONFIDENTAL ***
Note; This tranmission contains confidental data. Should this notice be received by a third party not involved with the Breakfast-Man-Inside Club or affiliates of the Perfect Food Encounters, Inc., please dispose of sections of this transmission within the asterisked portions. Any persons not respecting the asterisked boundaries and the portions must report immediately to a local Breakfast-Man-Inside satellite workstation and provide a full confession to an onsite technician. The technician will listen cooperatively and will exercise wanton forgiveness until the time your confession is complete, at which time he will take opportunity to bite your neck and suck the breakfast matter from its pores.
Our professionals are trained and qualified to do this by virtue of a twelve month training program, hosted by a grinning and feverish Michael Caine.
To reactivate your account, please see an onside technician.
Discussposted by why at 11:45 AM |
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he's so carefulan excerpt from
The Duke of Legoland (juggling, followed by cloudburst):
Then ameoba can be mined for gold, copper, many substances which we prize and many of the substances that comprise federal boomerangs. The trick is injecting the mineshaft. Careful. There, there, (a pause) ease it. Quite an ordeal, the syringes they come out with these days. Small as an angel's wrist, but how must it look to these little microbes. Little entrepreneurs unawares.
robbing the small to feed the big. they don't stand a chance. flagellum has got to give away all your body language during negotiations.
Discuss posted by why at 8:59 AM |
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speaking as if to hold onthinkquest archivists have stumbled upon an
empassioned letter from (what can only be) justin timberlake's sister. she does not want him cloned. mr. saturn gave his full support,
crying out in behalf of headless people, a sect oft targeted for replication. cells animals and all that crap. (Thanks, Brent!)
Discussposted by why at 7:28 AM |
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this one's from the oceanjason topps from pinchford alabama asks:
It looks like sharks are smiling. Are sharks smiling?
Scientists have often warned us of reading too much into an animal's expression. In doing so, we anthropomorphize animals and it detrimentally affects the outcome of our scientific work. Sharkologists are expressly warned not to smile back.
Discussposted by why at 6:19 AM |
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geez peopleooo, i have a taker. rachel meyer who sends a trilobite with a cork nose. from her:
I am filming a claymation movie in which an orphan is looking for refuge from an abusive guardian. A large bird flaps down and hides the orphan under his wing. It's perfectly sentimental, but I can't stir up a conclusion. I already started going down the road where the boy makes a harness for the bird and teaches the bird to breathe fire and they attack the world. Animating clay fires is exhausting work and my fingers are slanting. How to end, without ending my life...
am i supposed to answer this? i don't give advice. not sure what to do.
Discussposted by why at 5:11 AM |
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not and becauseif you're looking for more of a bargain, i am selling space in this message. send me one caterpillar that has a battery glued to its back as payment. i'll edit this message with you r very own entries listed in the space above. i will also send you a silver comb that has been in the family for ages.
Discuss posted by why at 2:55 PM |
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