I've just popped into TMO for the first time in a while. I've started a job with no opportunities to really get online and, well, that's that. Anyway, I've caught up on a few threads that really made me miss the place. Fancy that. Google knows when I'll get the chance to catch up again, let alone post a lame contribution like this one. So, the thing which really gave me a hard on was the zigzagetty-tangentialy-all-over-the-shop nature of some of the discussions (you know, like what newbies like). It felt kind of like humping Barbelith's evil, disowned twin (or getting halfway through that and losing interest). So, I'd like to offer this thread as a space to fail to stay on target. I'm not saying "here's somewhere to chate" (though what can I do if you do?) but rather, if you get the chance, I'd be really grateful if you'd try to make the place sing and echo in any number of disconnected directions - bouncing from here to there to cheese and shit. So I can come back and marvel at the way the place zips about. I'm not sure if that makes sense but I'm tired and inarticulate and almost sentimental. Slalom your racing imaginations all over the bare white piste of this empty thread and turn it into a beautiful avalanche of indecipherable mess, with black bits drowning in it, like dead people being words and shit. Please. Or just slag me off for starting such a fucking gay and self indulgent thread when I contribute nothing.
Thanks. Jonesy.
Oh yeah, or let it sink. That would be, like, excellent.
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Actually, I just read (in the one word review thread) that nobody else was going to start a thread on TMO again this week and just thought I try to help.
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Actually, just make this a Six Degrees of Separation thread using URLs to leave TMO and then link back to the place within six websites, or something.
I've just popped into TMO for the first time in a while. I've started a job with no opportunities to really get online and, well, that's that. Anyway, I've caught up on a few threads that really made me miss the place. Fancy that. Google knows when I'll get the chance to catch up again, let alone post a lame contribution like this one. So, the thing which really gave me a hard on was the zigzagetty-tangentialy-all-over-the-shop nature of some of the discussions (you know, like what newbies like). It felt kind of like humping Barbelith's evil, disowned twin (or getting halfway through that and losing interest). So, I'd like to offer this thread as a space to fail to stay on target. I'm not saying "here's somewhere to chate" (though what can I do if you do?) but rather, if you get the chance, I'd be really grateful if you'd try to make the place sing and echo in any number of disconnected directions - bouncing from here to there to cheese and shit. So I can come back and marvel at the way the place zips about. I'm not sure if that makes sense but I'm tired and inarticulate and almost sentimental. Slalom your racing imaginations all over the bare white piste of this empty thread and turn it into a beautiful avalanche of indecipherable mess, with black bits drowning in it, like dead people being words and shit. Please. Or just slag me off for starting such a fucking gay and self indulgent thread when I contribute nothing.
Thanks. Jonesy.
Oh yeah, or let it sink. That would be, like, excellent.
Just in case, you sketchy fuck.
Jonesy has a jobe and won't be here with us. Would you like this to be the Jonesy catchup thread, where we can recap events in a surreal and humorous way Jones-eh? We could do a week in TMO:
Thorn unconvincingly advocates violence on muslim women. Octavia's eyeshadow starts to get thicker enveloping her face. He brings her to an Interloper gig and starts to mosh uncontrollably. Octavia sips a glass of spritzer from within a sherman tank.
Snorton unveils his new line in clothing. A riot starts when he admits his Lego t-shirt is not ironic. It features a half dismantled depiction of NASA's challenger, atop a pile of bearded jewish lego men. Oy vey!
Dance Margo does a mental and embraces 'fun' Lesbians pelt shoes and catapult rocks from their bras at TMO's headquarters.
Zygote gambles his entire life earnings on a race to Lands End against Harlequin, to a punk rock/metal mash up album.
Oh, the beard is coming along like a thicket:
[ 19.10.2006, 18:32: Message edited by: New Way Of Decay ]
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Hullo, Johnny isn't it? Been a while. Wife and kids okay? Hmm. Oh we're fine, thanks. Ha ha, yes, little buggers. No I mean it. Little buggers. Get me through the day. No more than five seconds a bugger. It's more an exercise in frustration and penetration. You? Really? Well, I had heard. Yes, Barry told me all about it. Quite common. I think as you get older the fluid dries up a bit and you get gummy cum. I'm not sure if you can chew it, no. Well, I must be on my way. Yes, I love you too. No I won't do that.
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H1ppychick
We all prisoners, chickee-baby. We all locked in.
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dude!
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quote:Originally posted by jonesy999: I've started a job with no opportunities to really get online
My god. And people moan about not being allowed to wear a veil at work. This is a travesty of human rights.
Hey, how about wearing a veil at work which has VR goggles built in, plus a clever, pocket sized Braille keyboard. iBlindMusselmann® technology is the solution here.
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Hey Jonesy- I am sad to read that your on-line opportunities are not so great these days. I would like to comfort you by telling you that this might be a good thing. Too much internet can addle your brain and damage your judgement. Here is an example.
My son has recently taken up skateboarding. Oh, he loves it, he does. Making holes in the front lawn with the end of his board, insisting on wearing jeans with the required amount of too much length and bag in the leg, creating ramps out of bits of old hardboard and disused plant pots. Anyway. J saw this as an opportunity to pull his little, baggy-jeaned leg a bit. He began to spend meal times regaling us with tales of his own childhood skateboarding prowess, where he would win skateboarding championships by completing moves such as the Crazy Leonard, The Reverse Trubshaw (which involves launching into an anti-clockwise 360 degree spin from the top of an Austin Allegro), The Dogtanian (which has to be completed whilst singing 'one for all and all for one - muskerhounds are always ready) and finally, the Mahudu Spin. Naturally, he was met with guffaws and disbelief. Our son announced that he would be looking these moves up on the internet next time he has Computer Club at school.
And here is where the moral message of the story is uncovered - desperate to give his crazy tales and skateboarding glory some longevity, J waited until the children had gone to bed and then spent the rest of the evening on Wikipedia, creating entries for all of his imaginary moves. Pleased as pie he was, when he'd finished. "Oh, I'm not going to say anything!" he giggled "I'm sure they'll come up when he does a search and it'll look better if I don't say anything beforehand!" I didn't have the heart to tell him that the Wikipedia Nazi Bots will probably spot his article and remove it within seconds. A quick search this morning seems to suggest that that is what has happened.
-------------------- They give you a pen as fat as a modest cock and you're expected to dab it on the page, as though you were mopping the dregs of an afternoon Tommy. Posts: 1847
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News from my travels: Yesterday I saw the world's least convincing transvestite clumping through Manchester Picadilly station. Six foot two in his stack-heeled boots, five-o-clock shadow at lunchtime, huge beer belly hanging over denim skirt, shoulders like Giant Haystacks. You see, you can't say stuff like that on Barbelith. I would be accused of not examining my attitudes to transgender.
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quote:Originally posted by herbs: News from my travels: Yesterday I saw the world's least convincing transvestite clumping through Manchester Picadilly station. Six foot two in his stack-heeled boots, five-o-clock shadow at lunchtime, huge beer belly hanging over denim skirt, shoulders like Giant Haystacks.
[whisper]herbs, are you sure it was a transvestite? you do realise that's what actual women look like in manchester?[/whisper]
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quote:Originally posted by herbs: News from my travels: Yesterday I saw the world's least convincing transvestite clumping through Manchester Picadilly station. Six foot two in his stack-heeled boots, five-o-clock shadow at lunchtime, huge beer belly hanging over denim skirt, shoulders like Giant Haystacks.
[whisper]herbs, are you sure it was a transvestite? you do realise that's what actual women look like in manchester?[/whisper]
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I too have a beard New Wad. I've grown it to hide from my boss. Because I hate her. This proves categorically that bearders are shifty and hiding things from their fellow man.
I have never done a reverse trubshaw, not knowing a thing about skate boarding. I was a dab had at a crutchie bumfucker none handed winmill, mind, during the days when I was loaded with lino and fat laces.
Regards to the moon. And apologies for the self-indulgent thread.
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I was a sk8er boi. But as a not very rich sk8er boi from middle class stock I used to wear embarrassing clothes (stand up the red canvas trousers!) and, on occasion, actual school shoes.
This not-looking-the-part-ness has left me very sensitive and I am now a full-on adopter. I start cycling, I go out and buy the works: grey long socks, bicycle clips, luminous vest, half moon glasses, smug look and sandals. I gots it gow'n on.
When I took up jogging I realised that I – as so many others –absolutely could not run without an iPod. Unfortunately the shop had sold out, so I bought an iMam instead. S'fuck'n awesome. You can set it on straight, where it just reads the Qu'ran speech by speech, or you can set it to shuffle, and it pours evil into your ears and makes you shave off your body hair. It's really improved by personal best.
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[/QUOTE][whisper]herbs, are you sure it was a transvestite? you do realise that's what actual women look like in manchester?[/whisper] [/QUOTE]
This is very hurtful to me. My mother has a moustache.
[ 23.10.2006, 03:33: Message edited by: sam ]
-------------------- A day without laughter is a day wasted. In memory of Alastair Posts: 1936
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H1ppychick
We all prisoners, chickee-baby. We all locked in.
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you're getting the hang of this place, sam.
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Louche
Carved TMO on her clit just to make you feel bad
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quote:Originally posted by dang65: [whisper]herbs, are you sure it was a transvestite? you do realise that's what actual women look like in manchester?[/whisper]