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: <firstname.lastname@example.org> In article <email@example.com> (Captain Infinity) wrote: > In article <firstname.lastname@example.org>: > 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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