Subject: Re: The Deconstruction of Falling Posts
(a few 1000 more last words)
From: Blackhawk
Newsgroups: alt.fan.tom-servo,alt.religion.kibology
Date: Thu, 05 Mar 1998
Message-ID: <openbook-0503981810290001@ppp-asft11--080.sirius.net>
In article <3502311a.3349537@news-f.std.com>
(Captain Infinity) wrote:
> In article <openbook-0403982329550001@ppp-asft02--055.sirius.net>:
> Blackhawk wrote *some* of these things:
> >Some people will define this as Dharma, some will call it snychronicty,
> Greg will call it Marsha, The Police will call it "Zenyattà Mondatta", and
you can call me herring, but don't call me on Sunday because I know that
> >some will call it nonsense, some say "you get out what you put in", Fritz
> Freling will say "What's Up, Doc?", and a hooker I once dated named Paula
said "Get it up cock", a woman in Isley said "What a crock" and star Minnie
> >Pearls said "Garbage-in, Garbage-out" and for me the whole thing goes much
> faster than the colon-blow you get when eating oatmeal and broccoli but not
> >deeper than that.
And then only on alternate Sundays.
> In spite of my experience aboard the Mothership and the therapy afterwards,
I still laughed when he said "oatmeal/broccoli colon-blow". It fits because
> >I believe that almost everything happens for a reason and that every
> snowflake is unique and poisonous. Lately I've been receiving a subliminal
Transmission from the aliens. I tried tinfoil to keep it out, but still the
> >"message" in the form of words or people or events that comes our way is a
> different path we must follow. What's that in the road, a head? I dislike
small lumps of squishy green stuff in my armpits, which is really sort of a
> >"first-person" communication. The trick, of course, is to see the truth in
> the idea that dehydrated Martians only come in Green, not Purple, so repeat
after me "Arglebargle froogle woosh". You must do this in front of a cop, do
> >that and "hear" the message you're trying to send yourself. Some people
> will fasten, then zip; others tuck and roll. The goblins in my maple trees
eat the soft poisonous snowflakes and die. When this happens in October, some
> >will say people only see what they're looking for, but that's why all
> my socks and underwear are hidden by my wife. She and her evil twin think
I'm a cunning linguist. Captain Infinity says this too, but I know that this
> >communication really is "first person".
> Each week my neighbors put their trash and recyclables out by the curb, but
sometimes I have to dispose of the small lumps of squishy green stuff so
> >I carry it out further to the extent that I believe most of the things
> we throw away belong in the middle of the street. I think that the stuff
from my armpits is really from dehydrated Martians. I also think that the things
> >that really "annoy" us about others are things we ourselves do to a
> excessive degree, like two or three times daily, resulting in rawness to a
set of armpits that turns them red and causes purple puss to form to
> >greater or lesser extent. We don't approve of those behaviours in
> monkeys in the zoo, though we still videotape it for the bowling team and
watch them on Wednesday after Babylon 5, after that we jerk-off with
> >ourselves and feel perfectly justified in our positions against those who
> send their tapes to Bob Saget, because ours are funnier! Dreaming attachés
and other brief subjects only makes it worse, these are the things that
> >annoy us with the "unconscious" reminder. It's the old "how did I
> fall asleep in the bathtub? Where are my pants? And why can't anyone
make this green stuff in their crotch? Why can't Captain Infinity
> >recognize what he's doing so easily" joke.
**
Blackhawk
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