View Full Version : It's a slow day on the forum, work's kinda that way too

Ed Harrow
09-01-2000, 11:49 AM
What an auspicious start to the day; the dew covered toe rail positively sparkled as if coated with diamonds. I began taking the sail covers off

09-01-2000, 01:20 PM
and knew this would be a day to remember. This would be my first attempt

Ian McColgin
09-01-2000, 01:38 PM
Yeah, well, the starter's in little pieces on the bench of some genius in Revere so Granna's not going anywhere this weekend. Off to the Cape where we'll sail on a friend's glass boat. With fin keel. And formika table. But she floats . . . Maybe I'll tow Leeward and play in Katama or something.

maurice poulin
09-01-2000, 02:22 PM
Yes slow day and forum indeed. I'm almost afraid to ask (as it seems we lost folks everytime we did ask)but where's Lulu?

A good yarn by JR Smith would have finished the week in style. I did get Woodenboat yesterday so all is not lost.

Have a good long weekend all those that celebrate Labor Day.


Ed Harrow
09-01-2000, 02:39 PM
Well, at least Paul has it figured out...

09-01-2000, 02:48 PM
attempt.......at putting away all the pressure that has reared it's ugly head at work. But that not what this is about, now is the time to slip her out of the moorings and gost out of the harbor. I have enough provisions for myself and

Mike DeHart
09-01-2000, 03:08 PM
...my nephew's little league baseball team, which just won the championship. Boy those little guys can suck down the beer. Our plan for today is to celebrate victory, find some jetskeet, and launch...

09-01-2000, 03:28 PM
a round of spuds at'm with my shiny new potato connon, from the deck of

09-01-2000, 03:32 PM
And then...another minute passed...and...still...another minute passed...

Mike DeHart
09-01-2000, 04:04 PM
...Finally our first victim appeared from a creek. With the speed and precision you would expect from 26 groggy 10-year-olds we loaded the armament. However, unbeknownst to us...

09-01-2000, 04:53 PM
. . . the propane canister had accidentally been filled with a much more powerful mixture of LOX and LH2.

Greg H
09-01-2000, 05:08 PM
just below the surface, an Orka sends a deep signal to the pod of Blues just over the horizon. Waiting, spuds jammed in their blowholes and intent on....

Ed Harrow
09-01-2000, 09:19 PM
Targeting Bob Cleek, Robert W Miller, and other denizens of the archieves, who are piloting the old Russian submarine advertised on the Internet, and are intent upon...

09-01-2000, 09:25 PM
making love like Frenchmen, with their mouths, and finding the water route to the source, to Cleveland, where...

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09-01-2000, 10:14 PM
Where my beloved Kathlene resides... Should I have become involved with a woman who hosts her own website ?

09-01-2000, 10:50 PM
And, it was Cleveland, the source, the city's leopard relationship with the lake...the lake wasn't lover, but prey--that convinced me to dump her. And Bob agreed, so we got drunk in the wasteland of the flats and made our way back to Katerina, and cast off for...

Gary Bergman
09-02-2000, 07:21 AM
Palm Springs! At least the namr sounded good, but without a chart, we didn't know it was surrounded by...

Greg H
09-02-2000, 08:57 AM
...huddled masses, yearning to breath free.

09-02-2000, 02:28 PM
So, taking vorpal tiller in hand, I drove her hard on the wind, knowing that, should we fail to fetch the point before the Frenchman, he would be able to round up into Moonlit Bay, gain the weather gage and rake us stem to stern with a withering rain of fire.

09-02-2000, 02:33 PM
BUT WE SHALL NEVER GIVE UP, we will meet destiny, and we intend to stand our course, and yeild not for the likes of Neptune him self.

Ed Harrow
09-02-2000, 06:20 PM
Some one looked up and noticed potatoes arcing thru the sky, intent upon

Gary Bergman
09-02-2000, 06:50 PM
a clean landing beside the succulent slic of prime rib sitting....

09-02-2000, 08:39 PM
next to my previous appetite. She sat there, full of sex and love and that intangible presence that turns a man's heart foolish...

09-02-2000, 08:46 PM
One thought: this is the subtext whereby boards make decisions. Hoo boy, are we in trouble or what?

Gary Bergman
09-02-2000, 09:20 PM
Suddenly, the violent flapping of the main brought me out of my trnce and....

Gib Sosman
09-02-2000, 10:05 PM
...I woke and was still in Kansas, and it was 108 in the shade, and what I thought was the mainsail was just the fan blowing the pages of an old wall calendar. Totally drained of energy and inspiration, I closed my eyes and soon found myself in a wonderful

09-03-2000, 06:38 AM
...swoon, a feeling not unlike my last experience in Dr. Woo's opium den and dental emporium. Myriad barely-focussed images glided past my eyes, most of them pornographic, as I let myself sink deeper, ever deeper into the couch cushions, through the floor, past a cloud throbbing from the hum of the infinite vibration.

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Don Bailey
09-03-2000, 10:09 AM
Kansas! Oh My it must be the heat. I'm not in Kansas. Vibration, horrible vibration, ever since we hit that rock and broke a blade off the screw. Thought the Yanmar would jump out of it's mount. It was the third day and we were lost...

09-03-2000, 11:19 AM
but we still had hope. we we are determined, to hold a true course. yay, as we sail through the shodow of Neptune himself, we fear not the wrath, brought opon Atlantis,nor the angels of hell, wich call to us from the jagged shore where lies the remans of many a wooden boat. but the coast gaurd is another story...

09-05-2000, 10:58 PM
which i must tell to honor the memory of...

John B
09-05-2000, 11:22 PM
those true and valiant souls who uphold the one path of wooden righteousness

09-08-2000, 12:20 PM
and patrol our fair waters in search of those wascally canadian smugglers of...

09-08-2000, 12:27 PM
GRP and AWB's, subverting the attempts of right thinkers to convert the heathen.

Eric Bass
09-08-2000, 01:14 PM
i sat here wondering what i can do to my sailboat. Should i start painting the bottom or work inside? I have sat here at the computer drawing my next boat. And i have hit a wall. If anyone has a idea of a good type of wood to ues on it please let me know. It is going to be a 20'runabout sits 7. If you have an idea you can e-mail with it if you want to. hope to hear from you soon.

09-08-2000, 07:49 PM
It was a dark and stormy night. Suddenly, a sound which I did not recognize......

09-08-2000, 08:01 PM
sounding like Hemingway chewing his toenails aboard the Pilar as he reached for his fum and roke and contemplatin' shotguns from the pleasant distance of years fishin' and writin' and lovin' masculine women and GETTING and wishin' sum wun new'im....

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09-08-2000, 08:07 PM
Yes it was the sound of a match striking againest the side of the box that once contained it. oohh how the stinch of sulfer could put the fear in the hearts of brave men. would this be the end of the retired fishing boat from Norway?

Gary Bergman
09-09-2000, 07:39 AM
No! Perish the thought. Just the prerequisite to light the torch and strip another old coat of paint off the hull of the magnificent...

09-09-2000, 10:05 AM
PWC-stopper, carvel-planked with 2" oak in preparation for

09-09-2000, 11:18 AM
refinishing with ten coats of polyurethane abrasion resistant topcoat, the only thing that would stand up to a ramming run on that 90 MPH stealth PWC which had taken over the entire bay. While intent upon this task, I noticed

09-09-2000, 05:03 PM
...a gleam in the eye of the buxom young first mate as she loaded another white phosphor round into the very pistol. "Well, Captain," she murmurred seductively, "This might be goodbye. I just wanted to let you know that I've always thought you were swell, and, if we get out of this alive, I'd like to..."

Greg H
09-09-2000, 05:19 PM
"Oh"...suddenly noticing how quickly tools fell to the bench in this gravity field and Reflecting on the brief, but oh so pleasent vacation sailing the Hellas Sea of south Mars. The steep waves and strangley splashy water of .3g prooving to be no more than a modest challenge.......

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09-09-2000, 05:40 PM
while cleaning cleaning the round that was stuck in the spud launcher. now those pesky stelth pwc are just being

09-09-2000, 11:05 PM
a giant sput shaped pwc hurling at....

09-09-2000, 11:06 PM
a giant spud shaped pwc hurling toward

Ross Miller
09-09-2000, 11:33 PM
...the buxom young first mate, who was just starting to stimulate my interest in this thread. "I'd like to..." she began, tentatively fondling my samson post. "Go ahead, speak freely, don't be shy," I said. "Pay no attention to those nervous nellies dropping their tools and reaching for their spud guns. We can communicate on a more visceral, less symbolic level." "Oh," she said, blushing. "Well, I'd like to...."

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Greg H
09-10-2000, 09:35 AM
slip into that skin tight bird suit again, leap into empty space and soar over the marinaris valley, while....

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Gary Bergman
09-10-2000, 10:35 AM
watching you furl your mains'l and drop your anchor deeply into...

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09-10-2000, 01:35 PM
the wet void that you call....

John B
09-10-2000, 04:06 PM
the hole in the water into which you pour money. thank goodness......

Greg H
09-10-2000, 04:39 PM
the prothesis had been formed from the finest quartersawn lignum vitae...

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Gary Bergman
09-10-2000, 05:38 PM
except for the toes, which were made from....

09-10-2000, 06:34 PM
paper machier, and could not walk the Pinata over to him, 'cause of the words, all spoken and written, in the ground up paper in the toes, all paper, including the food that used to be gold and now is just paper like all else...

Ed Harrow
09-10-2000, 07:21 PM
Is this a gaff I see before mine eyes...

John B
09-10-2000, 07:23 PM
on a dewy morning,
a yachtsman, gazing into the words wondered,
what sort of boat could you have been.
a... (dang, Ed, you beat me)

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09-10-2000, 10:04 PM
Gaff--an untoward mistake that often makes for laughter--but our good sailor was unwilling to be affronted, and still reached for, and ignored the source of the gaff...and cared less for the judgements of those on the sidelines...and said D*** the torpor, full screed ahead...

09-10-2000, 10:14 PM
Where is the gaff anyway. John, Ed?

09-10-2000, 10:27 PM
to which the fair haired masseus Inga spyglass in hand whispered "thar she blows" and and melted into the arms of...

09-10-2000, 10:42 PM
Prometheus, unbound and recovered after his vacation from the rock...no birds please, lets go to a suite at the North pole...

Ross Miller
09-10-2000, 11:41 PM
“But Promy, hunbun, what about your liver?” cooed the mate. “You know how you get when we rent a suite.”

09-11-2000, 10:54 AM
to which promy responded..can we both fit into that wet suite together and can we invite a friend?

Gary Bergman
09-11-2000, 12:17 PM
'suits' me, she replied, while reaching slowly for ...

09-11-2000, 03:46 PM
the snooze button which wood allow me 5 more minutes of

Greg H
09-11-2000, 04:01 PM
languid pleasure....BUT IT WAS THE WRONG..

John B
09-11-2000, 05:24 PM
dewey morning because on the other side of the world it's not only 8 hours in front ,but it IS THE DAY AFTER. if only....

Greg H
09-11-2000, 05:50 PM
I could remember. Did the dipping lug get us through? Am I still asleep and dreaming or awake in a world populated above the plimsol line and wondering what I ate...Or did I eat it yet?... and what of the buxom lass at my side when did or will she....

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09-11-2000, 06:58 PM
trun out to be a he???

09-11-2000, 07:08 PM
Sensing that my interest was beginning to wane, she crossed her tanned, slender legs and softly plucked out a tune on the zither; a tune, unbeknownst to her, my own dear mother had sung to me as we sailed the world on my father's trading schooner, "Zaftig Maiden," lo, these many years ago. "You scrofulous dog, from Plymouth Hoe," Mother would sing, "Who sailed past the Lizard, so long ago..."

09-11-2000, 09:16 PM
when ,bringing my out of my revery, she asked "what's a Plymouth Hoe? and does it have to be driven by more than one...

John B
09-11-2000, 10:16 PM
no! i replied, gently removing the zither from her hands " come look in my rickety old garage at my shiny red super stock plymouth scrofulus" can you see...

Ross Miller
09-11-2000, 10:45 PM
[from doc]

...black leather-clad dominatrix?” “Oh, no, one will suffice, and I didn’t mean to imply that you’re one, either” I replied. “One what?" she asked. “Ah, the antecedent” I mused. “Like, whatever” she grumped, tugging at her breastplate. “I’m, like, having a little trouble with this buckle” she said, flashing me a coy little smile. “Could you, like, help me out?” “Soitanly!” I squealed, as I..

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09-12-2000, 03:59 AM
unbuckled it and observed, in a good fortissimo tenor,

"Das is Kein Mann!"

"..and furthermore, Carruthers, this fellow's got lumps on his chest!"

whereupon I picked up my horn and resumed my Journey Down the Rhine towards....

09-12-2000, 09:36 AM
the mythical land of woulden boat building in a country called Notrees where i

09-12-2000, 08:13 PM
inga wood have to hold on to my tiller as we began to beat back to windward, hoping that i wood not broach too soon.

Gary Bergman
09-12-2000, 09:13 PM
But alas, I lost my heading all too soon, and fell off, to..

09-13-2000, 01:05 PM
a deep sleep where i dreamed that Inga was really a...

Ed Harrow
09-13-2000, 04:31 PM
russian submarine that's been purchased by Greenpeace to...

09-13-2000, 06:19 PM
...transport brain-washed AWB cultists to Mystic, CT in an effort to...

Gary Bergman
09-13-2000, 06:42 PM
sink all wooden boats owned by forumites for not building their boats from...

09-13-2000, 07:01 PM
gossamer strands of old fiberoptic cable which still reverberate with the voices of my long lost...

John B
09-13-2000, 07:32 PM
mother in law . "a good tradesman doesn't blame his tools" she said
"no" i replied, " you're right , but then again a good tradesman wouldn't use this screwdriver you've been using for a cold chisel,or this chisel you've been using to open paint cans, or this plane you've been using to scrape the paint of your 1959 plymouth scrofulous with hoe attachment. why dont you....."

Ed Harrow
09-13-2000, 07:59 PM
Do like my grandfather and sharpen up an old bicycle sproket to..

09-13-2000, 09:51 PM
shave those hairs on your....

Ross Miller
09-14-2000, 12:44 AM
...pushy parts, and etch Maori designs into your forehead. “What?” screamed the mate, obviously suffering from long months at sea and overexposure to yours truly. “Who elected you Minister of Tattoos, anyway? If you think....” I tossed another handful of cubes into the mug and squeezed another small sour kiss from the spent lemon as she...

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09-14-2000, 01:15 AM
beckoned me into the greygreen scrotumtightening sea, saying "This thread resembles nothing so much as pastiche Joyce!", whereupon, seizing a futtock shroud, I....

Ross Miller
09-14-2000, 01:49 AM
...said, musing once again, although she had warned me against it, “That, too, sounds like Joyce.” “Joyce?” howled the mate. “Who’s Joyce and howcum I ain’t heard about her yet?” I poured a liberal dose of rum over the lemon and ice. The boat shuddered and...

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Douglas Ford
09-14-2000, 07:00 AM
as the jet skeet rebounded off my hull all I could think as I trained my spud gun on yet another deserving victom 'I hope your plastic toy sinks faster than you can swim...

Douglas Ford
09-14-2000, 07:03 AM
as the jet skeet rebounded off my hull all I could think as I trained my spud gun on yet another deserving victom 'I hope your plastic toy sinks faster than you can swim...

09-14-2000, 07:09 AM
Joyce, reciting lines ad nauseum from her insipid poem, "Trees," thrown off balance by the collision, thrust her futtocks into my buttocks, injuring my quarter knee in the process. "Agenbite of inwit," I shouted through my pain and into her ear, "Look what you've done! Now we shall never be able to..."

Don Olney
09-14-2000, 01:10 PM
...part friends, though I really didn't believe it, especially as she pulled away in the moonlight, sneaking coily one last fog covered nautical look at my receding bowsprit, the moon shining gloriously on her bumkin, her spanker most recently tweaked with great aplomb by yours truly, sTaTeLY plump Buck Mulligan, Master Rigger, stomach in knots I swallowed my pride and sang "Come Back Baby" but I needn't have for her stern had already begun to turn and her Cherry breasthooks gleaming with 12 lovingly applied coats of hand-rubbed Schooner Varnish appeared! appeared! out of the night before me as she tied up alonside and said "Permission to come aboard, Sir? "Why Soitanly" I said as I uncorked another bottle of burgundy for our reunion toast upon the wine dark sea...

John B
09-14-2000, 03:23 PM
"Choice boat mate!" she said as she threw the case of rum and a small sheep aboard.
"lets set sail to........"

Don Olney
09-14-2000, 04:19 PM
Amnesia...The land time forgot. "Set a course clear of the scrofulous detritus of this lost civilization overly dependant upon fossil fuels", she barked. "Aye, but first lemme at tha sheep, I'll have haggis yet matey", I said. "Roast" she insisted, "help me start the barby". "Out of charcoal starter love, have to use newspaper to get the coals going", I replied glowingly while setting the paper ablaze as an unexplained spud in a doomed parabola crashed to the deck upsetting the hibachi---the contents quickly burning through the canvas. Lucky for us, Inga extinguished the conflagration with the help of the contents of the spitoon that was never far from her side. We surveyed the damage. "Wow" she said seemingly to herself, "That's some major league ash hole caused by the New York Times!" "Yeah, It sure is", I said, "Big Time".

Ed Harrow
09-14-2000, 04:33 PM
ROTFLMHO, what hath I wrought, I wonder (this has certainly been a melatinctious event) what will happen next...

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09-14-2000, 04:41 PM
"I wonder what will happen next," boomed a voice like thunder accompanied by a high-pitched whining sound and a dozen waterspouts. The voice seemd to come at once from everywhere and nowhere. Inga, Joyce and I looked skyward from the scorched deck of s/v Scrofulae and witnesssed the clouds parting to reveal the face of... No, could it be? Yes, it was, it was...

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Greg H
09-14-2000, 04:55 PM
Cleek !!!!

John B
09-14-2000, 04:55 PM
Thor ,the God of thunder.
"I'm THOR, I'm THOR" he boomed...
"course you're thor" she replied

Greg H
09-14-2000, 05:12 PM
"now drop the sheep and back away"

Gary Bergman
09-14-2000, 07:42 PM
Not on your life! I replied. "She was the prettiest one in a flock of 3,000, I won't give her up just cause you're pointing that..

09-14-2000, 08:16 PM
she gave the strangest look as I put my new velcro gloves and reached out for...

09-14-2000, 08:26 PM
the push axe, the one with the handle on the wrong side, passed down from my ancestors, that I always keep near my shepard's hut, and never used, thinkin', "that acts is UNNATURAL!!!"

"Doesn't it bother ya?," was the question I had for my furry third cousin whom I spoke to occasionally, referin' to my uncle's unusual persuasion.

"Nah ha ha hahhh," she always bleeted.

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09-14-2000, 10:10 PM
which got me to thinking back to the fact that inga had made that same sound while i was lying facedown awaiting my massage with her aromatic lotion when i noticed that spitoon which was always by her side and the lack of a lotion bottle any where. No I thought she wouldn't use ....

[This message has been edited by docgoeckel (edited 09-14-2000).]

09-14-2000, 10:45 PM
pastiche,pastiche pastiche, SHE CRIED. She cried, wept, 'cause she wanted something REAL from her mate and no one answered, and it was tragic and lost and something yet reedeeemed, and she did not know time, and he did not know time, and the time still called, and she just wanted to be loved and F*** the time.

Ross Miller
09-14-2000, 11:53 PM
Howsomever, it was time for the noon sight, so we arose from our torpor, cast the lemon peels overboard, and realized that we still loved and respected each other, like two mature, rational, adult human beings. Reflecting on that for a moment, we both simultaneously raced to the rail...

Ross Miller
09-15-2000, 01:29 AM
...and tossed bucketfuls of purple prose to leeward, watching it blend into the purposeful pulsations of the the samecolored jellyfish that digested it, mulching syntax without a thought. We returned to the scuttlebutt for the experimental stuff, but it flew back in our faces, being what it was, despite the leeward cast. “um...”

09-15-2000, 07:01 AM
"...I'm sure that was a gerund I just swallowed."
Meanwhile, a man on a small boat, floating down a river in Cornwall and wearing a funny rubber hat, gave a satisfied sigh. The man went by the improbably simple name, John Smith, and appeared improbably simple as well, all the better to conceal the fact that he was a clandestine agent of...

Greg H
09-15-2000, 07:32 AM
."the Committee", and a good one at that. Taking on assignements such as: searching for the x-Russian sub by possing as a slightly mad individual sailing about the Irish Sea with a road map, to consorting with...

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09-15-2000, 09:56 AM
Yumpin' Yesus Ed, what a splendiferous mess you started. Keep a good graduate school busy in all humanities disciplines 'till the endowments ran dry.

Ed Harrow
09-15-2000, 11:47 AM
an equally lost orca who called himself Willy when out of the fog, off the port bow... (I know, I can't belive it. Nobody even questioned melatinctious either.)

09-15-2000, 01:20 PM
Ed, not publicly anyway. I caught then dropped it again before I remembered to ask. Too lazy to look it up. But, musn't break our concentration here.

...a ninety mile an hour PWC from hell with a grinning idiot in a devils suit came roaring cross the bow. I muttered and shook my fist and...

09-15-2000, 03:14 PM
ducked as Rick swung the barrel of the 40mm spud cannon to follow his target, as Rick depressed the trigger, he said (with a twisted grin) ...

Gary Bergman
09-15-2000, 03:30 PM
"Eat spuds,scumbag!" and loaded another round into..

Ed Harrow
09-15-2000, 03:37 PM
into the chamber and calling out, "This one's for Cleek!"...

09-15-2000, 04:22 PM
with a booming "thump" the spud cannon sent a spud down range at 1350 fps...

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John B
09-15-2000, 04:39 PM
The potato, as it sped through the air, came to the sudden realisation that it was a sentient lifeform. " i'm smart" it said to itself,whilst looking out of its one black eye.
below and in front, Peter the potato noticed an obnoxious object speeding along the surface of the water and decided in a flash to.....

Greg H
09-15-2000, 05:02 PM
to become more than just another spud. He felt a hint of tuber nirvana as he hurtled through time and space.....

09-15-2000, 08:17 PM
toward the black hole that was his one black eye and all black eyes inflicted on his ilk from time immemorial - the peelings, the bakings, the julienning suffered by his youthful self and tater tots the whole world round. He was the Avenging Missile of Potato Liberation, the Tuberous Archangel of Destiny, and, as he hurtled PWC-ward, he felt only altruistic satisfaction at being the One True Russett of Universal Weltschputz, hurled across the space-time continuum faster than the speed of the beet that is at the root of all desire.

09-15-2000, 09:21 PM
The maniac 90 mph PWC drew a bead on the crowd that had gathered at the stern of that fine sailing vessal, with a howl born of some primal need to prove Darwin's theory correct...

B. Burnside
09-16-2000, 12:57 AM
...it screams "So what's melatinctious? All this pulsating purple prose in black ink? It's not in the OED, so tell us already!!!"

09-16-2000, 07:07 AM
"Melatinctious, my dear," cooed John Smith to his sailing companion, while bringing the sherry glass to his lips, "is found in the Book of Ed, the BOED, as we call it. It comes after Mebalascus and before Mendacantabolic, all of which are terms relating to the Eastern discipline of Harrao, an offshoot of Chaoism which is practiced by certain new age crackpots, mostly from California.
"I see the look of puzzlement on your face, sweetness, but don't worry your pretty little head about such trifles. Just let me adjust that lotus blossom behind your ear, and..."

Ed Harrow
09-16-2000, 09:48 PM
Just then Willie, his blow hole targeted upon the maniacal jet skeet, breeches high into the air and, with impossible effort, sends a stream of water out at 1080 feet/sec straight at it...

09-17-2000, 08:52 AM
but it was a near miss, that made a very larg splash, soaking everyone within 60 yrds.
the would be killer spude hit only water, but it drew the atention(spl) of the terrorest organization called "GRENPEACE". as they made a hard left and pointed their bow toword us, you hear the engines rear. could those stelth jetski's be from greenpeace?

John B
09-17-2000, 03:37 PM
Peter plunged deep into the water. He noticed as he submerged, the strange antics of the orca as it jumped , twisted and clapped it's flippers as if performing for an adoring audience. Frantically Peter searched his new intelligence for his underwater g.p.s switch and finding it under "chips" in his file manager imediately retargeted the small noisy fast intolerably annoying device above him. He....

09-17-2000, 05:13 PM
had just acquired target lock when the orca took him gently in her mouth and sped upward. Breaking the surface in a high velocity leap, the orca puckered up and blew Peter....

John B
09-17-2000, 07:30 PM
straight at the target . "afterburner? there's no afterburner on this menu," Peter mumbled to himself as he noticed his skin beginning to crisp from the velocity.

Targeted now on the convenient cross hairs formed by the p.f.d on the s.o.b on the p.w.c he knew that there was no way that this sucker was going to get away. flashes of Arny and Bruce Willis played across his vision .
He knew that it was High Noon on the Ponderosa and that...

09-17-2000, 08:16 PM
that just as sure as God made little green apples, the man in the Rangley boat with a flamethrower and a sack of marshmallows...

Syd MacDonald
09-17-2000, 09:58 PM
realized that this thread was already up to page four and the quarry was still at large and laughing at...

John B
09-18-2000, 01:48 AM
... to travel forward in time in the parallel universe that was tuber land.
to live a whole life with a wife, children and a giant extended family in the sack they called home .
to then, after an entirely satisfactory existence , come back to w.b. land ( with the family and home ) and smack that critter on the jetski right on the back of the neck.

NEWSFLASH. "Authorities are investigating the mysterious disappearance of a high speed watercraft today. a witness reports that what appeared to be a sack of potatoto's hit the watercraft while it was going about it's lawfull business."
" it wasn't me " said a local man with a spud cannon. " it was the whale ".

The coastguard has reported that...

Ed Harrow
09-18-2000, 09:20 PM
a well-known political figure with a penchant for cigarette boats has not been seen in several days. They noted that he was last seen in the company of an unemployed NASA pilot who...

Gary Bergman
09-19-2000, 07:22 AM
shunned potatoes as a tuber with absolutely no beneficial use other than..

Ken Hall
09-19-2000, 12:04 PM
...eating roasted with celery seed, black pepper and garlic salt while listening (hands over ears) to the Last Standards, a Neil Young (as interpreted, apparently, by Yoko Ono) tribute band out of Poughkeepsie, who...

Don Olney
09-19-2000, 01:09 PM
…who played with great virtuosity, in an seaside orchestra of 110 instruments manufactured exclusively from ground up Personal Watercraft, Bayliners, Sunrays, Boogie Boards and other assorted scrofulous detritus of a doomed civilization overly dependant upon fossil fuels, thereafter renaming themselves "The Plastic Fantastic Exploding Inevitable", whose repertoire included such classics as:

Fish N' Chips in Vinegar
I Shot the Spud Gun (But I did not get the PWC)
Little Brown Spud
Sittin on the Dock of The Bay (Watchin the Fries Roll Away)
French Fries Keep Falling on My Head
Spud O' My Heart
The Dill is Gone

Greg H
09-19-2000, 02:41 PM
Peter potato struggled to clear the starch from his mind and felt the brown mushy spot above his eye. Slowly he became aware of something new. It was like being enmeshed in a spiderweb of immense proportions. He could feel the soil around his roots even as he floated, the sun on his leaves, even though he was plucked and what is this smell of rancid grease? Suddenly he realized he was hearing the thoughts of all the potatos that had ever or ever will exist, and that he was part of a great collective tuber consciousness, also that he was present when.....

[This message has been edited by Greg H. (edited 09-19-2000).]

Don Olney
09-19-2000, 03:01 PM
yearned to breathe free however unlikely, due to diminished lung capacity caused by Multi-Drug Resistant Tuber-culosis, a by-product of a doomed civilization overly dependant upon fossil fuels---a civilization whose only hope for redemption now lay most ironically in the scrofulous skin of his blighted awakening…

09-19-2000, 06:46 PM
"The potato, my dear," said J.S. pushing the tiller hard to leeward and brandishing a vinegar-soaked chip, "We, as a civilized people, owe so much to the lowly potato. Now, be a good girl and pass me that Phase Warp Communicator, so I can let the Committee know our co-ordinates.
"No, lovey, that's the auto pilot remote control. It's that little black box just over there. The one that says "PWC" on the side. That's it, now we'll just..."

09-20-2000, 04:19 PM
and suddenly, wailing like a thousand lost souls, a pilotless 50 ft Fountain blasts through the channel to join the demon PWC, they turn and

09-20-2000, 06:25 PM
thay turn and bank so as to avoid the single hit that couyld send their fiber glass bottoms skidding up the shore line and knocking the engines out of whack, wich in turn would have spilled the mix drink had their been a pilot on board

09-20-2000, 06:26 PM
thay turn and bank so as to avoid the single hit that could send their fiber glass bottoms skidding up the shore line and knocking the engines out of whack, wich in turn would have spilled the mix drink had their been a pilot on board

Ken Hall
09-21-2000, 08:03 AM
This has been "A Minute Passed." Tune in to this station for tomorrow's epsiode, at a minute past.

09-21-2000, 10:51 AM
...re-reading the past, our fine, true, brave skipper could only conclude that he'd fallen in with a fascintating troop of wandering raving lunatics, and so decided...

Ed Harrow
09-21-2000, 11:46 AM
Report the lot of them to the local USCG office who, of course, wanted names, offenses, injuries and then...

Don Olney
09-21-2000, 11:58 AM
…to compound the lunacy by double coating a sack of fine Idaho potatoes with Teflon, and installing six Spud cannons on an old Gatling gun mount, complete with a hand crank that just happened to also fit his RCA Victrola, now wound up to play "Die Walkure", Inga's favorite tune for shaving her legs with the 14th century Persian battle axe given to her by…

John B
09-21-2000, 03:55 PM
Thor , who had found it strapped to the back of a whale named Willy whilst....

Ken Hall
09-21-2000, 04:36 PM
...mourning the large crater made by his investment in valhalla.com stock, which had been delisted these three days past by NASDAQ. "The All-Father told me it was a sure thing," he thought sadly. He'd been part of the posse that went after Loki, valhalla.com CEO, but that worthy had made it to Niflheim, where there was no extradition treaty.

Suddenly, a pirate ship appeared on the horizon.

[This message has been edited by SelfSinkingFlatiron (edited 09-21-2000).]

Greg H
09-21-2000, 06:01 PM
at the helm,none other than that icon of the mundane (and recent addition to the Forbes list) Martha Stewart(tm). At her side, Inga (in orange leather) and a certain middle age sailorman known for his strong opinions (late of Ca). "Heave to or.....

[This message has been edited by Greg H. (edited 09-21-2000).]

Ross Miller
09-21-2000, 09:10 PM
...die, futhermucker!" bellowed the paunchy but formidable sailorman. "PWC operators of your caliber and character should be...

[This message has been edited by Ross Miller (edited 09-21-2000).]

Don Bailey
09-22-2000, 12:22 PM
force fed spuds from this launcher here. Look out Inga they got a.........

Greg H
09-22-2000, 04:16 PM
Sheep stuffed in the...

09-23-2000, 06:57 AM
lazarette, along with four or five lepers, a lead line and a pimiento-stuffed cheese log that appears to have gone by.

Greg H
09-23-2000, 09:01 AM
Willy inspected the floating remains of the fetid cheese log and came to the conclusion that...

John B
09-23-2000, 09:07 PM
..reconstituted jetski wasn't so bad after all.
if only there was some soggy chips with soggy white bread to go with it.
just then...

Ross Miller
09-24-2000, 02:30 AM
..we discovered that the stinking cylinder we had heaved from the bow neither sank nor was the lead line at all. As we ran aground with a soft shudder, the rubber tips of the menacing gray PWC impaled our transom, and it hung there in space, quivering like Wm. Tell’s picklefork in the tree above Mrs. Burrough’s head. “Avast, ye miscreant!” roared Captain Creek at the flattened face of the jet-skeeter. Inga watched, transfixed, as the portly captain leaped from the taffrail, sword in one hand, briefcase and law books in the other, and boarded the captive offender.

Her admiring reverie was soon shattered by the familiar annoying wee-o wee-o wee-o noise of the dreaded skeet, and the sound of them multiplied in her brain, nightmarelike. She looked all around, and indeed, it was an armada of the noxious little buggers, thrashing the sea around the ship into jagged ridges of chaotic froth. Instinctively, Inga...

[This message has been edited by Ross Miller (edited 09-24-2000).]

09-24-2000, 06:56 AM
...whipped the cell phone from her curvaceous hip and dialed the Committee's secret unlisted number. Quickly giving them her GPS co-ordinates, they promised to send help immediately. Almost simultaneously, Smith's Phase Warp Communicator began to tingle and glow. "Hold on, my dear," he cooed to his comely companion, "We could have to hyper-reach out of this lovely spot in a minute, and you'll want to hold on to your hat, because we could end up miles from here."

[This message has been edited by rickprose (edited 09-24-2000).]

09-24-2000, 09:15 AM
just as Dr.Bob Lazar had predicted, the small hand held device worked great. "thank god for those alleins " our lovely young mate replied.

09-24-2000, 09:16 AM
just as Dr.Bob Lazar had predicted, the small hand held device worked great. "thank god for those alleins " our lovely young mate replied.

09-24-2000, 10:36 AM
There's an echo around here because of ...

Ross Miller
09-24-2000, 01:03 PM
..two devices which are abbreviated with the same initials being in close proximity. For a moment the curtains of time and space shook and tore as if being climbed by a cosmic kitten, but Smith quickly adjusted the squelch and the situation was under control.

“My hat?” asked Inga with a look of disbelief. “I’m just worried about this loosely tied orange leather. How fast is a hyper-reach, anyway?”

“If you have to ask, you can’t afford it,” replied Smith. “Now if you’ll just...

Greg H
09-24-2000, 05:18 PM
"...step below and brew us a spot of tea, luv. I have a few ideas that may give us time for a civilized departure. The prospect of raising a fuss just off maggoty bank does not appeal to me,"he sighed."What I have in mind may allow us to slip quietly over the horizon before engaging hypereach." Adjusting his hat and reaching into the lazerette........

[This message has been edited by Greg H. (edited 09-24-2000).]

09-24-2000, 10:26 PM
"holy whah" do you see whose stowed away in the lazarette and where are your clothes may I ask? I was un prepared for the reply....

Ross Miller
09-25-2000, 01:16 AM
...as Martha crawled groggily out of the bilge wearing little more than a party hat. “I’ve been trying not to objectify the women,” Smith sputtered, “but you ladies have been making it so very difficult.”

Meanwhile, atop the quarterdeck, the intrepid Inga surveyed the scene. The ship was aground, surrounded by a horde of jetskeet; Willie was driven deep for cover; Creek was otherwise occupied in righteous furor, beating the captive jetskeeter about the ears with his briefcase; Smith was below pottering about for tea or some such, no doubt having forgotten about holding the key to their escape. Even the cheese log was gone.

“Someone’s gotta do something,” she said to no one in particular, bracing herself. “I guess I’ll just...

[This message has been edited by Ross Miller (edited 09-25-2000).]

09-25-2000, 04:24 PM
"...push this blinking blue button over here and..."

Greg H
09-25-2000, 05:00 PM
"Good god,do you realize what you've done woman?!!!"barked Smith.

[This message has been edited by Greg H. (edited 09-25-2000).]

Scott Rosen
09-25-2000, 05:16 PM
But before she even got her finger on the button, Martha had her right in the crosshairs of her hot glue gun.

"He's mine. All mine. I want Cleek for myself."

It appears that Cleek's Vertue was Cleek's virue. Martha longed for the chains and shakles of her delicious humiliation, suffered at the hands of the master, Cleek in the bilge of his Vertue. Unfortunately, Cleek's wife found out about it and scuttled the boat directly under the Golden Gate Bridge, with Cleek himself made fast to the samson post with a perfectly tied cunt splice. No one's heard from Cleek since, but that hasn't stopped Martha from her relentless search.

Little did Martha know, Inga's Creek a/k/a Cleek, was not the real Cleek, but was a clone created by Kazoo, the little green Martian, first seen by Fred Flintstone and Barney Rubble.

The fate of the Universe hinged on Martha's very aim, because only Kazoo knew what kind of Quantum Particulate explosticantics would materialize when the hot glue hit the clone. As she felt the warm glue loading into the chamber, she started to squeeze the trigger, and . . .

Ed Harrow
09-25-2000, 07:33 PM
ROTFLMAOTTARDMF, This just might be a job for...

Phil Young
09-25-2000, 08:30 PM
....Swift Oceanics!!! Fastest deadliest Personal Wanker Craft in the world today. Just then, before the thought had even properly formed in the real Cleeks mind, the Swift Stealth came silently screaming out of a nearby sewer outfall, unseen, unheard, unclean and ungodly, blasted right through the hull, dead centre. The Swift though is fitted with soft rubber sponsons and a clip on rudder, and so passed right through the gaping seams of the old woody, practically unnoticed, leaving only 2 new fenders and a small aluminium plate to suggest that it had ever existed. Rudderless, and bumperless, not to say mindless or thoughtless, the Swift shot across the harbour toward the small village far away over the hidden mudflats, the rider skillfully accellerated in ever decreasing circles until the incredible machine dissapeared up its own silenced water cooled and totally safe nonpolluting exhaust pipe, leaving not a shred of landfill, not a scrap of biomass to pollute the serene waterway. The rider, taking his cue form his steed, dissapeared up his own aft facing orifice, and was never seen nor heard of again., but then....

09-27-2000, 03:44 PM
...an alarm began to buzz incessantly at Committee headquarters.
"Yes, what is... I can hardly hear you, man, speak up! Yes, of course!"
"Commodore! It's for you - Phase Warp message from Code Name "Lulu!"
"Smith! My God, man, what's going on out there?"
"I've been, ssskeeerrrrrrch, and Inga took it on the, weeeeehooooowooooohhhh, but we've managed to hyper....."
"Smith? Smith? You're breaking up, old chap, is there anything we can do from this end, short of total nuclear annihilation?"
"Roger, HQ. Teleport squeeeelllorrrrwhoooppp,to these co-ordin...sssskerrrrrrssssshhhh... Do you copy, HQ?"
"Lulu, Lulu, say again, I repeat, say again!"
"Teleport the Plymsssshhhh shshhhhoe!"
"Smith! Are you asking us to teleport the...my God, man, you can't be serious?"
"Commodore, I repeat, most emphatically, teleport the Plymouth..."

Greg H
09-27-2000, 06:01 PM
"Winston, did you hear the talk in town today dear?" "No can't say I have" he grumped. "Well it seems that the dredge pulled a plymouth scofulous off of maggoty bank this morning and in the back seat was a hoe, a sack of potatos and bits of shredded orange leather."
"Bloody H@ll it's Smith again"he muttered as he hurried to the quay......

09-27-2000, 07:17 PM
but when he got there he ran smack into Martha, knocking both of them to the ground. On sitting up he realized it was Martha Stewart who had been arranging a table setting in his honor. "What are you doing on this side of the pond" he asked. "Well if you will kindly get off of me and put that back where it came from, i'll explain, but first a little smooch ,ok?" Not wanting to be unfriendly to the new arrival and hoping for a guest appearance he...

09-27-2000, 08:54 PM
...a preying mantis the size of a young pteradactyl and in it's clutches was...

Ross Miller
09-27-2000, 09:38 PM
...puckered up and POW!!!

The cigar rolled off the dock and into the water as the elderly woman dusted off her purse and stared straight at Martha. “He used to be Prime Minister, you know” she said in a frail voice, pointing at the rotund and unconscious figure lying at their feet. “He’s in intelligence now.”
“I can see” Martha replied.

Just then a somewhat tattered trio tottered up the quay, having disembarked the dredging barge that had tied up unnoticed during the commotion. “Agent Smith!” cried out the elderly lady.

“You’ve been reading my mail” mumbled Sir Winston as he regained consciousness. “Have I been drinking again?” As his tunnel vision opened up, he saw two Agents Smith, two large sea captains holding swords and books, and two identical women wearing a couple of tea towels each, who appeared to have bits of orange peel in their hair. “Which one of you is Agent Smith?” he asked as he rubbed the lump on his head, which was starting to throb. “I am” answered the two bearded men simultaneously.

Turning to Martha, who had also managed to cover herself a bit, Smith asked “How did you get here before us?”

[This message has been edited by Ross Miller (edited 09-27-2000).]

[This message has been edited by Ross Miller (edited 09-28-2000).]

Greg H
09-28-2000, 05:48 PM
"You've heard of Dolly of course. Well thanks to your British geneticists, I'm an entire corporation" she mooed. Then, doing a little pelvic dance, she sang out "world wide moma, oh yeah"
Sir Winston reached into his vest and pulled out a silver flask in the shape of a whale and took a long pull.

[This message has been edited by Greg H. (edited 09-28-2000).]

[This message has been edited by Greg H. (edited 09-28-2000).]

09-28-2000, 05:51 PM
After an affable round of gin and, well, more gin, the entire affair was discussed ad nauseum, shedding not the least bit of light on what exactly had transpired during the past 24 hours. Sir Winston summed it up as well as it was ever going to be summed up by declaring the episode, "...a ministry wrapped in an enema, surrounded by a condom."
The local constabulary was called upon to pepper-spray the revellers off the quay toward midnight, local inhabitants having been scandalized by Lady Churchill and Martha's repeated cries of, "Ooopsssie doooooops!" as they raised their skirts high over their heads.
Later, back aboard Lulu, Smith relaxed in the cockpit with his pipe and his zither. "I wonder," he mused, staring through the companionway at Martha's snoring, farting form, "I wonder whatever happened to Inga? I do miss the old girl."
Strumming softly, as tears limned his eyes, he sang, "You scrofulous dog, from Plymouth Hoe..."

BARMY INHABITANTS DUMBFOUNDED read the front page of the Maggoty Bank Times Dispatch the following morning, followed by this story -
"Local farmer Lester Pignuttal had quite a shock this past evening when, upon returning to the house from his sheepfold, he spied what he swears was a 100 foot tall woman, completely naked. The alleged 100 foot tall woman was heading downriver, toward the coast, with what Pignuttal described as a "purposeful stride."
"Oh, ay," he told this reporter, "Her arms was swinging and those big feet were just a stompin', a purposeful stride if I ever see one."
Upon being asked if he had been drinking the previous evening, Farmer Pignuttal became indignant and claimed that others in the area had seen the giant apparition,..."just ask any of 'em!"
Further inquiry tended to back up Farmer Pignuttal's story, the alleged giant naked woman having been seen by no fewer than twenty other residents of Maggoty Bank, Lousy Berm and Earwig-infested Lea.
When questioned further, Farmer Pignuttal volunteered this information, "Ahh, gad, buxom she were, and those tremendous legs just crying out to be climbed! But, I'm not such a spry youngster as I once was.
"Come to think on it, she was the spirit and image of a gal I knew in Plymouth these fifty year ago, when I served in His Majesty's Royal Navy. Beautiful as a sunrise, that gal was, and as free with her favours. Had quite a reputation throughout the fleet. I wonder whatever happened to her?"
This reporter is still investigating this story, and believes it may be connected in some strange way with bizarre news from the coast, including an unsubstantiated report of a large naked female observed attempting to mount the Eddystone Light.

Phil Young
09-28-2000, 06:55 PM
Smith awoke with a start, saw his pipe on the cockpit sole, and vowed never again to stray from his tried and trusted Bakers Blend, which he had faithfully smoked for as long as he could remember. Never again would he accept a gift of an unknown blend from what seemed at the time to be a kindly soul on the banks of the Fal. But now the dilemma was, how much of what had passed was real, and how much was a dream. Peering over Lulu's strangely battered bulwark he did indeed see 2 rather oddly shaped fenders, seemingly vulcanised on to the side of her hull. Looking upstream, was the dredger, a faint memory of blue paint adorning her rust stained but still imposing wheelhouse and derrick. This was not all that troubled Smith, for he knew immediately that he'd placed poor Lulu in terrible straights. The spring tide had sprung, and listing slightly, Lulu had taken the bottom on a mudbank in the middle of the Fal, which was only ever submerged on the top of a spring tide with a Northwesterly gale blowing outside...

Scott Rosen
09-29-2000, 09:36 AM
The sun was dropping below the hoizon. What an auspicious end to the day; the dew covered toe rail from this morning was now dull, charred and pitted as if coated with coal dust and gull droppings. I began putting the sail covers on and lamented the spent remains of a hot glue gun spattered all over my mizzen foreaft fisherman's club-footted, self-tacking topmast staysail. There was a dank, dark chill to the air, as the wind seem to blow from all points of the compass at once.

It was the beginning of another dark and stormy night . . .

09-29-2000, 02:18 PM
and across the big pond lolling against the stump of an aged hackamatic tree hand saw in hand stood...

Ross Miller
09-29-2000, 06:16 PM
...thechemist. His cape swirled about his head in the wind as he eyed Agent Smith through his infrared bigknockerlookers. It was cold, and he wished he were back in the chemcave relaxing in a silk bathrobe instead of constructing a lean-to in the cold English night. In fact, he had been relaxing in the chemcave in a silk bathrobe when his assistant Igor rushed in to say that the chemlite was shining on the clouds high above California.

“Is it just the molecules?” thechemist asked.
“Molecules and the phone number” replied Igor.
“Ah, the phone number.” He knew that was the signal to call The Committee. "Did you write it down?"
"Yes, Master."

And so, here he was, freezing his well-sunned buns off at the behest of The Committee, observing a member of his own team (a task he did not relish) and preparing to solve the mystery of the 100-foot Ingoid that was currently devastating the English countryside.

Suddenly, there were signs of life aboard Lulu...

[This message has been edited by Ross Miller (edited 09-29-2000).]

09-29-2000, 10:44 PM
Lulu stirred herself as the first strands of the new day appeared at the edge of the horizon, lazily...

09-30-2000, 06:20 PM
the intrepid Smith's sou'westered pate appeared above the bulwarks, smoking briar clenched tightly between his gleaming dentures, and he was heard to utter...

Greg H
10-01-2000, 10:19 AM
"the next spring tide won't be 'till Trafalger Day, with St. famons day long before". He looked down at the gin bottles and bits of leather, still puzzeled, then spotted a box with a blinking blue light."What the.....

10-01-2000, 12:09 PM
My freshly refilled coffee cup slide and gently trip over the toe rail and make a surprisingly satisfying 'spluoop' as Mr. Jones took a sip . . .

PWC trails asunder, time to inflate the hemorrhoid ring.

Phil Young
10-01-2000, 09:18 PM
without a dinghy Smith was powerless. Radio of course had been dismissed as an unneccesary concession to the modern world with all its faults. The box with the blue light drew closer, and although the pathetically weak english sun was drawing over the hills to the east, the blue light did not dim, but shone brighter, and began to flash, in sharp, almost dazzling pulses of not just light, but energy, life force and power. Smith saw the water start to churn and go black with centuries of mud and other crap somehow stirred up from the bottom, and Lulu, freed from the sticky ooze, began to move, gently at first...

Ross Miller
10-03-2000, 12:19 AM
...and then faster, of course in a direction opposite to the one Agent Smith had in mind. But he was used to that. “Tougher with each tide” he’d mutter to himself before starting the Yanmar.

Ashore, despite the growing light of dawn, thechemist could see the eerie glow of The Blue Light reflected across Lulu’s immaculate brightwork. And he could see her begin to move downstream in her trademark pirouettes and arabesques.

“Must keep up” thechemist panted as he thrashed through the underbrush, snagging his tights and shredding his cape on the sturdy English briar, no doubt the same as Smith was probably puffing on now that he had got the engine started and was steaming full speed ahead and stationary against the current.

thechemist paused to catch his breath and reposition his mask on his face. “California Dreaming” was the song going through his head as he wondered why The Committee had told him to keep an eye on Smith. They had hinted ambiguously at his possession of The Blue Light and its possible connection to the Ingoid. But thechemist was skeptical. “Such an innocuous guy,” he thought. “I must find out.” He poured a vial of catalyst into the reservoir of the chemshoes and blasted off into space high above the Fal, arcing up through Aurora’s skirts and down in a perfect parabola into Lulu’s cockpit. Hitching up his tights, he smiled his best smile and said “Agent Smith, sir. A pleasure to see you again. What...”

[This message has been edited by Ross Miller (edited 10-03-2000).]

[This message has been edited by Ross Miller (edited 10-03-2000).]

Greg H
10-04-2000, 04:35 PM
"....do you say to a hyperreach over to SF bay? It seems that several of our agents have callenged the PWC directly."

10-04-2000, 04:57 PM
Well, er...quite, replied Smith, but I think we have time for a couple bottles of Mackeson's first, don't you? I just happen to have some on ice....I know you prefer it chilled. So saying, he went below while the chemist scanned the suroundings. When ten minutes had passed and Smith had not returned, the chemist......

10-04-2000, 05:09 PM
asked, "What fine single malts have you stowed away in your f'c's'l, me lad? What fine ales lie in your bilge? I've had about it up to here with the Committee's vague directives," he said, indicating a point midway between his sternpost and his mizzenmast. "Pray, sir...

(Gad, but it's hard to rewrite for simultaneous posts--Ed.)

[This message has been edited by Kermit (edited 10-04-2000).]

[This message has been edited by Kermit (edited 10-04-2000).]

[This message has been edited by Kermit (edited 10-04-2000).]

10-05-2000, 07:14 PM
Surely yee be knowin what a leech line is fer, it certainly ain't...

10-05-2000, 09:31 PM
"...fer tyin' round the necks of those bottles of Mackeson's to fish them out of the bilge, and how can you possibly call bilge water chilled?"

"But, I had to use a line on the bottles", explained Smith, "if I reached in barehanded, the crabs would take a finger off.....and don't you see, the free end of the line is down there somewhere and I haven't been able to bring it out with this coathanger."

While the chemist's attention was diverted by a particularly large crab which had siezed one of the few remaining shreds of his cape which had carelessly dangled too near the bilge, Smith.....

Scott Rosen
10-06-2000, 09:45 AM
began to hum a salty tune called "I miss my Anna Graham" by that great singer of chanties, Casey Eel. When ever he hummed, his mind would wander. Casey Eel, he thought. K.C. Eel. K.C. Eel . . . . There's something strange about that name. Anna Graham. Ana Gram. Anagram.

He dropped his whiskey bottle and bolted upright, hitting his head on the overhead. I've got it! The great one yet lives! And sends a message from beyond the musical dimension.

Forget the dam* ale in the bilge water and help me figure out an anagram for kceel!

The whiskey bottle fell right on the large crab's back, cracking the shell. Out oozed a foul smelling, foaming green blob that seemed to dissolve everything it touched.

Meanwhile, back in Maine, the editors of WoodenBoat were busy forming a golf team, to be called the Brooklin Dodgers, and their home field would be called the WB Forum. Trouble was, they couldn't hit that little ball too far. Seems there was a problem with their hand-made clubs. The head was purple heart and the shaft was cherry. Even the balls were hand made--out of blueberry no less. Seems they needed lots more strokes just to land in the hole. YIPES! That confirmed it. One of the WB editors working in the shop making those clubs was a closet porn writer, just using WB as a convenient cover for his or her illicit activies.

Meanwhile, as the scotch continued to drip into the bilge and crab trasmogrified . . .

Ross Miller
10-06-2000, 08:00 PM
...thechemist whipped out his trusty A.C. Gilbert (tm) chemset and began an assay on the crab. Smith, after opening the Mackesons, whipped out his trusty pen and paper and began an essay on the crab. “I say, old chap,” said Smith after a pause, “Have you noticed that the vile substance oozing endlessly from that arthropod is eating an ever-widening hole in Lulu's planks?”

“Good Gourd, no! Thank you for pointing it out” thechemist replied, quickly saturating the area with a bucket of CPES (tm), which immediately stopped the rot in its microscopic tracks. He popped the curiously corrosive crab into a sealed container for later examination, and they then sat back with their Macks and contemplated the close call.

After a decent interval, thechemist nonchalantly ventured a question. “So, Agent Smith, what do you know about the giant Ingoid, who rampages wantonly and nakedly across your countryside molesting tall spires?”

[This message has been edited by Ross Miller (edited 10-06-2000).]

John B
10-06-2000, 08:53 PM
"She appears to live on sheep and mutters something about leaving her rum behind " Smith said quietly, as he reached for the heigsnieglefest lager and the scrumpy bottle.
" would you like a drink?" he said as he delicately poured a careful measure of each into his spare jug.
"try this ,its very..........

Greg H
10-07-2000, 03:56 PM
"..dark and unctious. It's strained through a sheeps dag I've herd, full of all sorts of biochemical componds, may even provide a clue to superstring theory if you catch my drift" he mumbled. "Now whats up with the, er tights?"

Ross Miller
10-07-2000, 07:54 PM
“Well, they do have a few runs, now don’t they?” thechemist replied. “I had to do a little bushwhacking to find you. I’ll get some new ones when we get to a town. An Agent of The Committee should look sharp, eh?”

“Especially a Super-Hero-At-Large, such as you are,” said Smith, arching his eyebrows. thechemist felt the sting of English disapprobation, not intended by Smith, but nonetheless experienced by a casual American confronted with proper Englishness. Agent Smith poured another dram of his liquorous concoction and thechemist tossed it off, trying to forget his cultural inferiority complex and remember that he was on a mission.

Suddenly they could feel the ground shake profoundly, even though they were on the water. The sky grew dark and the birds stopped singing as...

[This message has been edited by Ross Miller (edited 10-07-2000).]

John B
10-08-2000, 06:38 PM
the "snakebite "took effect.
his eyebrows arched,his cheeks reddened ,and with explosive energy, he cried......

10-09-2000, 01:03 PM
"What foul toxin have you slipped me? Think you to further your nefarious plot by taking me out of action? The Committee has known for some time that there was a double agent within it; you have shown your hand at last." The chemist fumbled with the Antidote pouch of his utility belt with fingers that were rapidly becoming numb.

The water violently rocked the boat again as the ground shook. The Ingoid was visible against the horizon, ......

[This message has been edited by thechemist (edited 10-09-2000).]

Ed Harrow
10-10-2000, 01:40 PM
when The Chemist's fingers touched the pouch there was a brillant flash, clouds of what could only be black-powder smoke enveloped Lulu, and, out of the smoke strode another from The Committee.


Smith, totally taken aback from the shock, began speaking "Is this a dagger I see before mine eyes"... ("for now sits Expectation in the air")

[This message has been edited by Ed Harrow (edited 10-10-2000).]

[This message has been edited by Ed Harrow (edited 10-10-2000).]

10-10-2000, 03:13 PM
cradling a carbide cannon in his arms...

Greg H
10-10-2000, 04:12 PM
...the man in white (sometimes known by his code name: "the Motivater")...

Ross Miller
10-11-2000, 12:16 AM
...appeared on the scene like a regular old deus ex machina.

“As if this experience weren’t harrowing enough,” howled Smith in anguish, the effects of his paranoia potion having gripped him, as well as thechemist. If either was a double agent, neither could remember at the moment, though both were vaguely apprehensive about the possibility.

“Where’s Agent Prose?” mumbled thechemist, his loosened lips further compromising Committee security.

“He’s hitched his wagon to a star,” said Smith enigmatically, “but he’ll be back soon enough, I’ll wager.”

"Well, here'zh 2'm!" called out thechemist, raising his graduated beaker.

“What a mess!” clucked The Man In White, stroking the barrel of his cannon as he looked on with an air of omniscience.

Meanwhile the rhythmic pounding of the earth grew closer still, and the penumbra of the Ingoid enveloped them.

“Somebody’s gotta do something...” thought The Man In White, striking a pensive pose as he...

[This message has been edited by Ross Miller (edited 10-11-2000).]

[This message has been edited by Ross Miller (edited 10-11-2000).]

[This message has been edited by Ross Miller (edited 10-11-2000).]

10-11-2000, 06:36 PM
...meanwhile, back at headquarters, a bird began to sing.

10-11-2000, 08:39 PM
as a light wind begins to blow across a table top. this is no plain old cheap table top, it has a faint but barly readable leeters. B-O-B-C-L-E-E-K. as the light breeze starts to turn more turbulent we relize this is not youer breath from mother nature, but a man made breeze! and this table top has several scratches that, if one looks at them long enough, they began to resemable a map. could this be a map of...

Ed Harrow
10-12-2000, 08:43 PM
the secret path across Crab Island, past the remnants of Mt Gibber to Duckhaven. Meanwhile, Mr Smith, begging his leave, mutters, "Chaos, panic, and disorder, Lulu and I are finished here" and, even as he descreetly draws a linen tablecloth across the top, The Chemist inquires of The Man in White how to set his laser pointer to stun...

[This message has been edited by Ed Harrow (edited 10-12-2000).]

Ross Miller
10-13-2000, 01:41 AM
“Whacha gonna stun, son?” asked The Man In White.

“Oh, I dunno,” drawled The Chemist, his California cool radiating through his mask. “I was still thinking about that tall girl over yonder.”

“Oh, yes, The Ingoid,” remembered The Man In White, clutching his cannon and waving his copy of WoodenBoat about. “Smith! Get back over here, you peacenik; we need you!”

Suddenly it grew darker still. As one they looked to the west, and there, blotting out the afternoon sun, stood The Ingoid at the river’s edge splashing the sweat and sheep’s blood off her massive flanks with great handfuls of water. Huge waves were radiating out toward Lulu and our heroes...

[This message has been edited by Ross Miller (edited 10-13-2000).]

Greg H
10-13-2000, 04:12 PM
"Tea gentalmen?" Smith called from below,"Our salvation is in the Earl Grey"

10-19-2000, 06:00 PM
As the aroma of freshly brewed Earl Grey drifted up from below, a light began to flash on a module attached to the Chemist's utility belt. The module was continuously sampling the air and had finally detected, in the aroma of the Earl Grey, the exact chemical compound for which it had been programmed to search. The module simultaneously emitted a high-pitched beeping sound, which attracted everyone's attention.

The Chemist examined the readout on the module and said to the Man in White, "I've been waiting for this!" The Man in White examined the readout and exclaimed, "Finally! The Ingoid Antibody Detector has found a complement inhibitor!" So saying, he coupled a spigot on the module to the muzzle of his cannon and entered a series of numbers into the module keypad. The module emitted a high-pitched humming noise followed by a series of gurgling crepitations, and then silence. An amber light came on, and the module readout held only the letters COMPLETE.

The Man in White slid a Teflon(R) capsule into the muzzle of his cannon and with a ramrod pressed it in.

"This should do it", he said, "and this is considerably more straightforward than what I had to deal with when I arrived. Do you realize", he said to the Chemist with an air of mild reproof, "that when I arrived it took me an hour to neutralise whatever it was that had poisoned you. You were unconscious for most of that time, and I could only determine that it was a contact poison painted on the outside of the glass Smith gave you. He got a smaller dose and was only incoherent for a while. Someone evidently boarded Lulu and left one poisoned glass, expecting to trap Smith and take him out. Security has been compromised more severely than we realized, if they even knew to lay such a trap on Lulu. We have installed countermeasures so they won't try this again."

"Now to deal with the Ingoid", muttered the Man in White, "Here, hold this, and give me your laser pointer", he said to the Chemist, holding out his copy of WoodenBoat. The Chemist, knowing what was about to happen, passed over the laser pointer in exchange for the magazine and stepped back. He unfolded what appeared to be a magazine until it became a small tent, stepped inside and zipped it closed. The Man in White aimed his cannon at the Ingoid, sighting carefully. He changed the setting on the laser pointer from STUN to INCINERATE and placed it over the touchhole of his cannon, and pressed the trigger. The high-intensity laser pulse ignited the black powder charge, which blew the Teflon antibody capsule out the muzzle in a flat trajectory straight into the mouth of the Ingoid, who in surprise swallowed it.

The muzzle blast of the cannon left a large black cloud, completely enveloping the Man in White, most of Lulu, and the tent with the Chemist inside. When the Chemist saw that light was once again passing through the protective film of the tent, indicating that the cloud had dissipated, he unzipped the entryway seal and stepped out. "Too much charcoal and not enough saltpeter in your formula, as usual. You should really use Committee-Issue material instead of insisting on making your own", he said to the Man in Black as he folded the tent back into a small package and returned it, WoodenBoat cover again on the outside.

Our heroes could see that the antibody was doing its work, as the Ingoid slowly shrank, melting and wavering as she finally morphed into an attractive young lady, looking around with a dazed expression. Seeing Lulu, she cried, "Ahoy the boat! Can you give me a ride back to civilisation? The mud isn't too deep; I can wade out to you".

The Man in Black said to the Chemist, "Looks like we're finally done here." The Chemist replied, " I think so. Smith can deal with the young lady. You will need a new suit, but the Committee should allow it on your expense account, considering. Here's your WoodenBoat. You really should do something about your powder formula, there's simply too much charcoal in the mix". "I noticed that", muttered the Man in Black.

The Chemist removed two capsules from his utility belt, placed one in each boot, said to the Man in Black, "You know, it does something for your complexion", grinned, pushed a button on his utility belt and was gone. His California Cool hung in the air a few moments longer and then, as the smile of the Cheshire Cat, slowly faded.

The Man in Black muttered something, called out to Smith, "We'll be expecting your report tomorrow, and paint that table-top! Your security here is terrible!", He unfolded a silvered circular plastic disc about six feet in diameter, and laid it on the deck. He took out from a pocket something resembling a beanie with a small parabolic antenna on top and placed it on his head under his hat. Muttering under his breath, "If only the Committee's headquarters were closer; the Chemist's power modules are much simpler" , and began entering numbers into the keypad of an instrument on his wrist. There was a flash of light, a thunderclap as air entered the space where he was a moment ago, and the Man in Black was gone.

Smith emerged with a cuppa, just in time to see a young lady standing in the mud beside Lulu.

Hi there, sailor", she purred. "Going my way?"

Ever unflappable, Smith replied, "How do you take it?"

The afternoon held promise.

[This message has been edited by thechemist (edited 10-19-2000).]

John B
10-19-2000, 06:31 PM
Atracted by the high pitched whistling pervading the atmosphere, two of Willys cousins arrived just off the port quarter of Lulu.

"Ay mate" "'ave you seen my cousin...... big bloke, bent fin... all black and white...?

Smith looked at Inga, "um.......

Scott Rosen
10-20-2000, 10:37 AM
"Do you have a Christian name?"

"Why, of course," she replied. "Karen Baisch."

Ed Harrow
10-20-2000, 07:25 PM

The Man in Black http://media4.hypernet.com/~dick/ubb/biggrin.gif

[This message has been edited by Ed Harrow (edited 10-20-2000).]

Jim Hillman
10-24-2000, 06:16 PM
At the mention of HER name, there was a distant sound of drums...

10-29-2000, 08:04 PM
and a chile in the air, as if by saying her name, one could bring on winter in full force.

B. Burnside
10-30-2000, 01:00 AM
...or send you to South America...

Greg H
10-30-2000, 09:34 AM
...to anchor in the bay at Juan Fernandez after pounding around the Horn. Three weeks screaming gale, the likes of which...

Ken Hall
10-30-2000, 01:27 PM
...is encountered at regular weekly intervals in hairy-chested tales of the sea, albeit almost never in real life...

Ed Harrow
06-29-2001, 09:16 PM
Until today, when, with a vehemence not seen for some days...

06-29-2001, 10:18 PM
and as the thay stood there the, creeping winds began to blow, the borometer was falling fast, waves started forming and the white froth would fly up in to the air and fall softly back in the sea ...

Greg H
06-30-2001, 08:19 AM
Casting a gaze at the old castle on the hill, "working with the committee gives one some latitude in ....." She whispered. http://www.gifs.net/animate/kissgif.gif

Greg H
02-19-2002, 02:15 PM
...make more tea. Yet the tin was nearly empty and the dinghy was ashore...

[ 02-19-2002, 02:17 PM: Message edited by: Greg H. ]

Ed Harrow
02-20-2002, 03:49 PM
Poking thru Lulu's new galley, he discovered a can of Pine Tar. "Ummmm, what a heavenly odor, perfect to add a bit of spice to that boring Earl Grey." Just as he was about to put a dollup into the pot, he heard a gentle tap, tap, tap, on Lulu's lovely, repainted topsides...

Greg H
02-20-2002, 05:59 PM
...In the forepeak, Vermillyum had had enough. "Johnny, I thought you were going to get rid of that woman," she hissed in that soft southern voice that never failed to cause a twinge in his naughty bits. "It's getting late and Chawls will miss me ".......

Ed Harrow
02-12-2004, 11:36 PM
"Vermillyum! D*** you. Are you aboard this tub!" Lulu, always known to be decorous, was taken full aback. "I warrant," she retorted to the interloper, "your rags, and the tallow in them, would burn a Poland winter!"

06-04-2004, 11:10 PM
....Razor sharp tongue of the buxom lass in the rum shop back there in Trinidad.... When was that? Back in.... August of 2000 or so..... So long ago, but still so fresh in the mind.....

P.I. Stazzer-Newt
12-08-2016, 05:39 AM
despite the ravages of thyme , still...

jack grebe
12-08-2016, 06:11 AM
Still, YES, Let's fire up the still.......


12-08-2016, 06:33 AM
Meanwhile down the other end of the barge the redoubtable Lulu herself was organising the band......

(Kinda nice to see The Chemists sig back there.......)

jack grebe
12-08-2016, 06:38 AM
Errr, Banned. A full blown mutiny was about to erupt.

12-08-2016, 07:44 AM
The banned crew refused to work, "Mutiny?" they said "but we're not officially here now are we? You can't hear us."

Arizona Bay
12-08-2016, 10:43 PM
I found my old self on this thread!

Little did I know then, but Vermillyum had not had enough and now 14 years have passed... :D

jack grebe
12-09-2016, 07:43 AM
I found my old self on this thread

I'm still looking, I know I had 2 prior to my current log in, but don't remember what they were.

Ah, yes 14 years had passed like the drifting sands of time.......and untold kidney stones.

P.I. Stazzer-Newt
12-09-2016, 08:25 AM
The kidney stones were untold - but the bell...

Arizona Bay
12-09-2016, 09:15 AM
Untold but delicately carved and woven into the beadwork turtle bolo tie clasp, now laying atop a locker in the day cabin... and the bell...