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By: Roxanne
Date: 1/12/00 1:54:53 PM
# Replies: 28
It's a new year. Shall we try to get something going in here?
Response #1
By: Tess Trueheart
Date: 1/14/00 7:51:59 AM
Since surgery a few years back when they removed the hormonal depression, I think they also took my imagination..
But I'm willing to give it a go.. Start us up darlin..
Response #2
By: Ralf
Date: 1/14/00 8:33:42 AM
Minion: Your plan worked m'lord! She has no imagination! Fneh! Fneh!
Satan: Excellent. When you removed her imagination, what did you do with it?
Minion: Er, nothing... sire... just... ah...
Satan: [sighs] If you're going to look at me like that, stop playing with yourself.
Response #3
By: Fungus Amongus
Date: 1/16/00 8:32:42 PM
In the pits of hell, an echoing scream was heard: a woman deprived of her sensual fertility in the method of imagination. But SATAN has more up his sleeve that we can imagine... cut scene to living room in Dayton, OH:
SATAN: Did you bring the shit?
Thug #1: Sho did. Got it right here.
Thug #2: Best fuckin' acid in town.
SATAN: Thank you. (Takes package) I'll be going now...
Thug #1: Hey! What about our money?!?
SATAN: Try the fridge. (Exit)
Thug #2: There's nothing in here but... AARRRGHHH!
(Cut to shot of blood splattering on wall.)
Meanwhile, back in Houston, TX...
Response #4
By: Roxanne
Date: 1/18/00 10:00:33 PM
Maybe it is empathetic or just plain contagious, Tess, but for the past few years, I haven't had the imagination I used to either.
Of course, watching Ricky Martin dancing around and singing "La Vida Loca" gives me all *kinds* of creative thoughts! :)
Response #5
By: Ralf
Date: 1/19/00 8:15:57 AM
Minion: Excellent.
Satan: Oh, shut up.
Response #6
By: Al Franken
Date: 2/22/00 1:45:15 PM
It's not contageous Rox...You and Tess are just getting old!
Response #7
By: Ralf
Date: 2/22/00 5:44:30 PM
I think you should feature Al Franken in a story and make him all girley and wussy-like and stuff.
Response #8
By: Da Sissop
Date: 2/22/00 11:34:33 PM
I can't say for sure, but I *think* Al Franken is the same mildly abrasive Al Franken you might remember from the ol' days of the dialup Nunnery.
Response #9
By: Al Franken
Date: 2/23/00 3:16:50 PM
Hey Ralf....FUCK YOU and your girly man ideas...hiding some personal insecurites of your own you'd like to share?
Response #10
By: Da Sissop
Date: 2/24/00 12:06:45 AM
Okay, "mildly abrasive" may have been an understatement.
Response #11
By: Ralf
Date: 2/24/00 8:20:33 AM
Kinda touchy there, huh? Yeah, suppressed homosexual urges can do that to a man. Come here and lemme give you a nice blow job.
Response #12
By: Al Franken
Date: 2/24/00 4:48:05 PM
So, I mispoke, you are not insecure...you are a screaming flamer. Well, suck on your own, if you can find it.
Response #13
By: Ralf
Date: 2/24/00 6:36:05 PM
I don't have to suck my own when I've got yours staring me in the eye. C'mon, Al baby, release that python of brotherly love before you splooge in your Jockeys.
Response #14
By: Da Sissop
Date: 2/24/00 8:49:16 PM
Ya know, I dunno if this Al is the same Al I think I might know, but whoever it is, I take offense at anyone coming in here with the express purpose of shitting all over my good vibrations.
If you're looking to make enemies and piss people off for a thrill, I'd suggest trying Usenet newsgroups. If you'd like to join in on any of these discussions with a little bit of civility and respect for these friends of mine here, then you're more than welcome to stay.
Response #15
By: Al Franken
Date: 2/28/00 5:01:45 PM
A bit touchy I see. Just because Ralf is an "flaming" idiot doesn't mean that I want to make enemies and piss people off...I just call a spade a spade, or in Ralf's case a fag a fag.
Response #16
By: Ralf
Date: 2/28/00 8:13:17 PM
Blahahahaha! So Al thinks I'm gay. Cool.
Guess I better go tell my wife.
Response #17
By: Homer The Brave
Date: 2/28/00 8:36:42 PM
You *could* be in denial, Ralf...
Response #18
By: Gowan McGland
Date: 2/28/00 10:53:18 PM
Hey, let ME tell your wife...
Response #19
By: Ralf
Date: 2/29/00 7:46:34 AM
Well, I *may* have experimented at one time, but I never inhaled.
Response #20
By: Al Franken
Date: 2/29/00 10:39:24 AM
No Swallowing is more your style.
Response #21
By: Ralf
Date: 2/29/00 4:59:02 PM
You were amusing at first, but now I am bored with you.
Anyone have something INTERESTING to say?
Response #22
By: Da Sissop
Date: 2/29/00 8:53:34 PM
All right you two, I want you to shake penises and make up.
Response #23
By: Tess Trueheart
Date: 4/15/00 6:58:15 AM
Again..it was happening again. Opportunities they call it, when in reality a frighting dose of how fragile the balance between personal security and your future market value wages it's constant battle. Starting over, taking asset of self worth in the fast pace, constant change of the business enviroment, searching effortlessly for that nich that will propel your forward rather than stop you cold. Is there growth potential in the move to Phoenix, do you risk it, or take the severence and risk it. Questions time could only answer.
Strangely enough depression was void this time, only frustration and anger simmered beneath the surface, and fear. Fear of not being valuable or having the necessary skills to compete. Working smarter not harder, a lesson yet learned.
The kids were grown now, leaving a void where once the steadfast, comforting knowledge of the true meaning of life surpassed any concern of market value was gone. Or was it a simple case of mid life crazy? In truth, it was all of it.
Response #24
By: Tess Trueheart
Date: 4/15/00 8:44:04 AM
The daily grind, watching others move on to brighter expections, witnessing their courage to forge ahead, to take charge and make life altering choices only added to my frustration. My inability to make a decision, to appreciate and believe in myself, giving in to insecurity only compounded my stress, not to mention the added work load dumped in my lap every time someone moved on. Constantly I asked myself, "what would you do if you were not afraid?"
As usual I continued the daily routine, lacking the passion that once motivated me. A whirl wind of confusion etched in the lines on my face. The sheer joy of life composed from simple things that once radiated from the core of my being, hidden now by indecision. Knowing if I didn't make a choice, one would be made for me.
Thoughts of escape, the realm of dreamers was tempting, but to where and to what? Just a momentary release from reality, necessary at times, though totally unrealistic.
Response #25
By: Tess Trueheart
Date: 4/15/00 8:44:59 AM
Five o'clock, finally time to depart once again, but even that held little excitement. Life had become so routine. I was desperately lacking any entertainment or just simple fun to break up the bordom. Walking to my truck the thought of being capricious and heading down to the beach briefly crossed my mind..briefly. For a second I could actually smell the Gulf air, feel the warm breeze, hear the Seagulls at their care free play. I longed to be sipping a cool tropical drink as I buried my toes in the sand. "Another day," I told myself. The same consoling words I used everyday about this time.
Response #26
By: Da Sissop
Date: 4/18/00 5:29:19 PM
The sun was well below the treetops as my truck bounced along the ragged, twisty paths through the thick Katy rainforest. What would it be tonight, I wondered, macaroni and cheese? Or maybe cheese and macaroni? And was that new Regis Philbin show on tonight? Damn, this is a bumpy road... I need to get these shocks checked.
Or, wait, did I just hit something?
I brought the truck to a stop at the side of the path, scanning my rearview mirror. There was green, lots of green. Green leaves, green grass... a little lump of green in the road... wait... did it just move?
Response #27
By: Ralf
Date: 4/19/00 4:21:58 AM
There! It did move. Sigh. Nothing to do about it but investigate.
Thoughts of macaroni and cheese fled my mind as I strapped on my six-shooters, lifted the heavy Remington 12-guage from behind the seat, loaded my 9mm Sig-Saur, slid the bolt-action on my hunting rifle, tested the keen edges of both 8-inch Bowie knives, checked the powder in my blunderbuss, placed a few grenades in my pocket, pulled the harpoon gun from under the seat, quick-charged my tazer, fed an ammo belt into the water-cooled Browning 50-caliber AA gun, launched a few decoys, and practiced up on my Tae Kwan Do.
I was ready.
Response #28
By: Zane T. Dark
Date: 4/28/00 9:39:13 PM
Stubbing out my clove cigarette on the inside of my left thigh and thinking that the sensation was almost as pleasant as my last job interview at a company so profoundly backward that its executives actually thought passing a drug test made you a pharmacist, I reached for the handle of the door, and as it opened...that sound! Was it the door, or that unfortunate shape behind me?
Stepping onto the ground, the air actually *tasted* green; that freshly mowed smell that wafts through the neighborhood on a summer afternoon. My eyes strained to focus on the lump in the road..
It moved again, short, pointed ears unfolding from above; and large, round, innocent eyes looking up at me. The pain in its eyes was unmistakable, even palpable..but not as much as it's fear when I reached into my pocket for a grenade, flipping the ring between my teeth with my tongue, jerking it away with a light flip and tossing it at the feet of the creature with a light *crunch* sound issuing from the leaves.
Closing the cab door behind me and putting the truck into drive as the tailgate assumed a rather obtrusive shade of crimson offsetting the green all around, I couldn't help but think to myself...
...I hate furrbies.