The Social Issues Tattler

Saturday, October 29, 2005
In response to Possil's letter to The Tattler, we will be taking a break from the daily grind of writing . Possil, and others, were greatly disappointed to wait three hours for less than what they expected. Many, in Social Issues, agree with Possil's position regarding The Tattler cheating them by publishing letters. We would like to make it very clear, that we never take the easy way out when it comes to writing. Nor are we lazy. We made a decision that publishing letters from both sides of the fence would give readers insight into the varied views. Thank you for the emails, and to those of you who had even the slightest smile from the writing, we are touched and grateful.

Some people are too stupid for words.

Let me try to explain what many seem to find impossible to understand.

Possil is by no way the reason for the Tattler taking a break, if fact, I congratulate him, on pointing out to me, that a break is what is needed. He saw the collection of emails, as a lazy way for the Tattler to be posted, others agreed with him, but his comments were taken as they were intended; constructive criticism, and he was CORRECT. Laziness , or lack of originality had nothing to do with my decision to take a break. My decision was made simply because Possil put the idea into my head and I knew he was right. A break is needed. Time is needed away from the writing. NOTHING MORE. For the many of you who want to make this more than the written word, you will do it no matter what is written here, but let me repeat:

1) I am taking a break because I am tired.

2) Possil made the suggestion, I am grateful.

3) E Pluribus has nothing to do with the writing of the Tattler
Nor does anyone else you have mentioned.

4) There is one writer, and one writer only.

5) No other person contributed to the writing or ideas, nor was anything sent to me in email, ever used in the Tattler.

6) I have over three thousand emails, some of them vile and filthy, and filled with private matters. They will be destroyed tonight, and shame on all of you who have sent such horrific comments about another person.

7) There are so many blogs now, there are far more fish to feed the masses.

8) An intelligent person knows when it's time to get off. It's time.

9) Thank you Possil

10) For those of you who want to blame others, and not believe this, you are the sort who never believe what another says. But ask yourself this---What reason do I have to lie?

Apologies to Suzanne for interrupting her game, and to the players of the game.

See you in a week or so.

The Social Issues Tattler

Friday, October 28, 2005
The only valid censorship of ideas is the right of people not to listen.

FADE FROM BLACK: Donette Starlyin Accordeone sitting behind her desk.

Boaz (seated in front of the Donette's desk)

Boaz:
"I believe in our room. Our room is good for Social Issues. We had them fooled, and then came The Tattler. They believed our lies, think like us, and cluster at our feet, but one night The Tattler showed up, posted a site, made them vulnerable, and then took them away. They resisted at first, but the truth kept coming. So we beat them, and we attacked them, and we banned them, and we berated them, and still they kept reading that hateful rag. I cry for them, I cry for us. Will we ever be powerful again?"

Boaz breaks down. (The Donette gestures to crabfisherman to give Boaz a drink)

Boaz:
"Sorry” (Boaz, taking a drink, dribbles water down his chin.) I went to Feta Cheese, like a good whiner. The Tattler was brought to trial, but Google set them free. They went free that very day! I stood up to them like a fool. And those bastards spit in my face." Then Feta Cheese said “For justice you must go to Donette Accordeone."

Donette Starlyin Accordeone (sitting behind her desk, petting bunny):

Donette Accordeone:
"Why did you go to the Feta? Why didn't you come to me first?"

Boaz:
"I will give you anything. But do what I beg you to do."

Donette Accordone:
"What is it you want done?"

(Boaz gets up to whisper into the Donette's ear)

Donette Accordone:
"That I cannot do."

Boaz:
"I'll give you anything you ask."

Donette Accordone:
We've known each other many years, but this is the first time you came to me for counsel, for help. I can't remember the last time you invited me to your room for gossiping, even though my friends tell me you gossip all the time. But let's be honest: you never wanted my friendship. You were afraid to be in my debt.

Boaz:
"I didn't want to be greeneyes.

Donette Accodeone:
I understand. You found paradise with the Divas, had a good room, made many a train wreck. The red admins protected you. And you didn't need me. But now you come to me and say -- "Donette Accordeone get the Tattler off my back." You don't even think to call me Godmother. Instead, you make a room to mock and threaten the Tattler, and now you ask for the death of that rag.

Donette Accodeone (stands and turns her back to Boaz):

Donette Accodeone:
"Boaz, Boaz, (shaking her head in disgust) What have I ever done to make you treat me so disrespectfully? Had you come to me, this scum Tattler would be suffering this very day. Your enemy is my enemy and together we can make them suffer.

Boaz: (kneeling before the Donette)

Boaz:
"Godmother?"

Donette Accordeone (after Boaz kisses her ass)

Donette Accordeone:
Some day, I'll call upon you to service me. But until that day accept justice as a gift.

Boaz (as he leaves the room)
"Grazie, Godmother."

Donette Accordeone (to US Angel and Crabfisherman)
Get some good people, people that aren't going to blab their mouths off. We are not gossips no matter what The Tattler says. I want the head of the crippled pigeon in The Tattler's bed by midnight.

Fade to bedroom of The Tattler. (Sleeping peacefully in bed, cuddling a picture of the crippled pigeon. Feels something warm at foot of bed. Awakes, sits up, and lifts the sheets.

(The Tattler smiles when a headless crab is found stuffed between the sheets.)

The ban on Tattler talk is still in effect in the land of Boazlyin. A well regimented troop of Tattlerettes can be seen scampering from the land of censorship around midnight. Kaboom and Luan, have a Tattler free room, where the unmanageable misfits gather to speak their minds, under the flag of freedom. It must feel wonderful for them to break the bonds of Boaz. Speaking of the King of Bullshit, why hasn't he followed through with his promise to expose The Tattler? Might it be, because every time Boaz exposes something, it's impossible to see it with the naked eye?

Starlyin has Mothers apology stuffed snuggly between her ample breasts, but it's always at the ready to be pulled out to declare self-righteousness, whenever the need arises (and even if it isn't). Is this the same Mothers and Starlyin team of a few weeks ago, who defended each other like mother bears at a fur sale? Starlyin spent endless hours reprimanding everyone from Possil to Pontius Pilate (no, not the new exercise craze, the old Roman guy), on the winning merits of Mothers. Today, Mothers is allowed in Starlyin's room to apologize and shut up, because she lied. Star be nimble, Star be quick, Star jump off your sacerdotal stick. When will Boaz be skewered, branded, sliced, diced and banished from your Queendom for the lies he told about you not long ago?
Mothers, don't get to thinking you have one tiny drop of decency in that minute mind of yours, because you are the root cause for more trouble in Social Issues since Lord Voo appeared on the horizon with a hot poker up his ass and a thorn in his paw. Today in Rotten Ronnie's room you were telling uniformed Brits that there is a Federal Law in the USA that prohibits the sale of alcohol beverages to Native Americans. You went on to say that "every time a white sells alcohol to a Native, they are breaking the law." --- " MothersBruleSioux: Just selling.. it period to Indians" mortie_2: Natives, who buys Alcohol, is breaking a Federal Law". Mothers, your bullshit is usually benign, but today you did an injustice to all decent Native Americans. Dancin' Waters, was doing the tango with the truth also, by saying “Native land is not sovereign land." MelodyLane and Swan Songtress (both non-natives), took you to task with your footloose and fancy free fallacies. If you could understand shame, you'd be drowning in it today. You giggle on mic calling Dan " Sweetheart" and " My Man", because you're looking for a little Lakota lovin' come October, well Mothers, when the dew is on the pumpkin, it's time for Dan's dink dunkin', but do Social Issues the greatest of pleasures by never allowing them to hear about the night:

A bunch of the Indians were whooping it up in the Lakota saloon;
The cat that was fed the anti freeze was hitting a screaming tune;
Back of the bar, in a solo game, sat Dangerous Dan McScrew,
And watching his luck was his light-o'-love, the lady that's known as Lakota Loon.
When out of the night, which was fifty below, and into the din and glare,
There stumbled Slammer, fresh from the creeks, dog-dirty, and lookin for love.
He looked like a man with a foot in his mouth and scarcely the mind of a mouse,
Yet he tilted a poke in the Lakota's arse, and called for drinks for the house.
There was none could place the Lakotas mind, though we searched ourselves for a clue;
But we drank to her insanity, and the last to drink was Dangerous Dan McScrew.

Slammer, no words were repeated with greater warning than these to you RUN FORREST RUN. MothersBruleSioux: Slammer.. my brother huggsssssssss The last person Mothers said that too has a hatchet between the shoulder blades.

Shellycan, when you talk about being horny, you are like the 80 year old fat lady who wore a pink thong to the Queen's garden party; it just shouldn't be done.

JulieSam, twenty lashes with a rolled up Tattler, for using our name on that marvelous "Bucketful of Worms" website. If you are the only Mongolian sheep shagger left on the planet that has not been to this hilarious work of genius, click on comedy and spend some time laughing. For the best room by far in Social Issues, visit "Happy Hour", full of laughs , fun and song.

Isabellah has now gone all "fish and chips" on us. She's fallen for the Brits. There is no one who can play the damsel in distress character like Isabellah, and today Stefhaj was caught in her web of whimsy. Isabellah was having problems with a very confusing and technical bit of gadgetry, and Stefhaj, tossed his cloak over the predicament puddle to help.
Isabellah:
"Stef, I can't do it, I've tried and tried (sniff), and can you help me (giggle)."

Stefhaj:
I understand Isabellah, some do find it difficult, but you must persevere. When you do the rewards will be bountiful."

Isabellah:
"Stef, I've tried, really I have, but I can't do it."

Stef:
Isabellah, don't be afraid, I'm here, holding your hand every step of the way. Are you ready? Trust me please.

Isabellah:
I trust you Stef. Let's do it.

Stefhaj:
Here we go. First, take one lace in your left hand (that was not a leftie slam NotNeurastheniac), and take the other lace in your right hand. Carefully, cross the left lace over the right lace, and loop the left lace under, catching it up in a bow, circling the right lace round the bow, tucking it through the hoop, snatching both bows and pulling tightly. Voila, done. Do you have it Isabellah? Where you successful?

Isabellah: (long pause)
What's a lace ?

There was a bit of British banger bashing today, when KevinBritish called AnthonyK a mic hog, and AnthonyK countered with calling Kevin a Pius piss taker. Kevin is upset about being beat up in a room by some who weren't "nice" to him, and promises to repeat, this little girl with wet knickers story, until Jesus comes up with a good reason for hanging around with 12 guys in the desert. Any thoughts on that one Kevin?

Shellycan and sr dude talked about Canada and cars last night. It's been reported that 32 of the listeners have jumped off mountains, after poking sticks through their eyes, and ear drums.

Idiot of the day--- Boaz

Admin of the day --- Rotten Ronnie

Nice person of the day --- JulieSam (for having a laugh on us)

Quote of the day --- ezhaulmike_209: swan has that calf coombalathhingy going on crab (reward is offered for the first person to understand this)

Mailbag:

Dear miss,mz, madam.
As an avid reader of tatttler, i was so disappointed , in the format of broadsheet dated' 27th October 2005, Perhaps u were limited in time, and decided to take easy way out , to print a conglomoration of peurile; self seeking e-mails from the great unwashed; especially from ,;THE BROTHERHOOD ;, A SELF PROMOTING SET OF BORES, TOSSERS, AN EGOITISTS. What i want , NAY demand , as a reader, is some salacious ,satirical,ananlysis of the inane, banal,child phsychological ramblings of escaped mental patients.
I do not want to waste 3 hours, waiting for an inferior edition, simply because , you were behind ,in publishing, smarten up lassie!!!!!!!'
Further as a non paying subscriber, i may withdaw my registartion , if i pay nothing for a service? , i want the best nothing on off Please take this in the spirit in which it was sent , anger, frustration,and sheer bloody mindedness.
i remain ,yours faithfully trusting to an early reply.
The Possilfossil
PPS. What do u want for xmas ?

The Tattler: Sometimes you're the punchbowl, sometimes you're the turd.

The Social Issues Tattler

Thursday, October 27, 2005If I had more time, I would have written a shorter letter.

Mailbag:

Dear Miss Tattler,
Thank you so much, the tears created by your humour are still rolling down my cheeks as I type, we the many of the Brotherhood (only Cyndy insist on being called Sister) are so pleased you were created, it has removed the lime light from us in our quest to achieve the impossible.
Thank you on behalf of,
Grandmaster Cyndy U K Div.
Grandmaster Proud Jesuslander USA and Canada
Grandmaster Luddite, Southern Hemi.
And last but far from least Grandmaster Wayne retirement section.

Yours faithfully Goast_3

The Tattler: Yeah, Yeah, Yeah. Where's the chipped beef you promised?

Mailbag:

Dear Miss Tattler
I wonder if you would be so kind as to advise Paltalkers via your wonderful journal that my Brother Rotton Ronnie needs to be in bed by 2200hrs GMT.
We all know he is to much of a gentleman to close a room Grunto style, in future could they just all leave greacefully (so as he will not notice) as he has bedroom duties to perform with his wife (eye drops) for his dog.
Yours faithfully Goast 3
p.s. If you could give his car raffle tickets a mention he will be delighted.

The Tattler: Do you chew his food?

Mailbag:

Dear Sir or Madam,
I am now assured by my Dear Paltalk friend Swan that you are a she; you will now understand my reason for calling you madam in future. With regard to your invitation to join in the pagan festival you will understand my need to decline on religious ground, ( I was excused PE at school as well) I take it French Fly's like most enjoy resting on excreta to digest what ever they may have eaten or just bitten off, then its an excellent choice for one of my nations traitors.
Yours fraternally
Goast_3

The Tattler: Do you have a job?

Mailbag:

The Tattler At Bat

The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Nine sanctimonious, holier-than-thou, two-faced disingenuous, whining, cunning, deceitful, dishonest, duplicitous, insidious, left-handed, oblique, underhanded, back stabbing, bombastic bastards, that day.

The score stood Zilch to a big BITE US, with but one more game to play.
At bat the new and improved player clamed up, and the humongous followers did the same. A pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game and a straggling few got up to go in deep despair.

The rest clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast.
The thought, "if only The Tattler could but get a whack at that. We'd put up even money now, with Tattler at the bat."

For Social Issues Freaks preceded Tattler, as did Social Issues Glob; and the former was a hoodoo, while the latter was a lark. So upon that stricken multitude, grim melancholy sat; for there seemed but little chance of The Tattler getting to the bat.

But the player who road in on a train wreck let drive a single, to the wonderment of all. And, another much despised and disgusting excuse for anything close to human, tore the cover off the ball.

And when the dust had lifted, and the back stabbing bastard Nine saw what had occurred, there was a player safe at second and another a-hugging third.

Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell; it rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell; it pounded through on the mountain and recolied upon the flat; for Tattler, might Tattler, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Tattler's manner s he stepped into his place, there was pride in Tattler's bearing and a smile lit Tattler's face. And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat, no stranger in the crowd could doubt t'was Tattler at the bat.

Then thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt. Five thousand tongues applauded when he smeared smut on his face.

But when the writhing Nine threw out a gauntlet from the mound instead, defiance flashed in Tattler's eye, a sneer curled Tattler's lip.

And as the gauntlet came hurtling through the air, Tattler stood a-watching it in haughtly grandeur there.

Close by the sturdy Tattler the gauntlet unheeded sped --- "That ain't my style," said Tattler.

"Strike one!" the Nine said.

From the benches, packed with minions, there went up a muffled roar, like the beating of the strom waves on a stern and distant shore.

"Kill them! Kill the Nine!" shouted patrons in the stand, and it's likely they'd have killed them had not the Tattler raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity, great Tattler's visage shone, he stilled the rising tumult, he bade the game go on.

He signaled to the Nine, and once more the gauntlet flew, but Tattler still ignored it, and the Nine said, "Stike two!"

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered "Fraud!" But one scornful look from Tattler and the audience awed.

They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain, and they knew that Tattler wouldn't let that gauntlet go by again.

The sneer has fled from Tattler's lip, the teeth are clenched in hate. He pounds, with cruel violence, his retaliation upon the plate.

And now the Players hold the prize, and now they let it go, and now the air is shattered by the force of Tattler's blow.

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright. The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hears are light. And, somewhere men are laughing, and little children shout, but there is no joy in PalTalkville, alas mighty Tattler struck out.

In pissing matches, all are destined to get pissed on.

Let us be entertained by the dancing monkeys who continue to play the game.

Patron of the Game

The Tattler: You're hired.

Mailbag:

Well, I guess I should be flattered to be mentioned in such AUGUST company in Tuesday's Tattler, I must confess, however, that I have no knowledge of any Robertsons in my family background, Nicholsons abound ... as do Fitzpatricks, and the occasional MacGregor, but Robertson's?? I'm afraid not. As far as inventing anything, the only thing, any of my ancestors invented was the town of Guelph Ontario, and that was more by accident than astute planning on our part. However I did say yesterday, in passing (since we were talking about tools and screws, and problems thereof) that a man NAMED Robertson had invented the Robertson screwdriver..(and that he had made his money on the screws ... not the screwdriver) and that Mr Robertson lived in Montreal. I hope this has made everything as clear as mud.

best regards
Saltspring (aka Sword of the Amish)

PS love your rag.. keep up the good work

The Tattler: Got it now! Mrs. Robertson screwed Mr Nicholson on a farm in Guelph, for nuts and bolts. Here's to you Mrs. Robertson, Jesus loves you more than you will know.God bless you, please Mrs. Robertson. Heaven holds a place for those who pray, Hey, hey, hey

Mailbag:

Dear Twatler ty for the better come back tiday I had a much better laugh than yesterday.
Do you think you could make with a bit more sparkle tomorow
Wee Alice

The Tattler: Warning! Never write emails under the influence of anesthesia. How's the hooter?

Mailbag:

I know im not in the rooms everyday but reading the tattler is JUST like me being there... here i sit drinkin my coffee before i wake up my 4 kids and put them on 3 different buses and one thing i must say i dont give out respect easily and i dont expect to earn respect easily but this is the FIRST time i respect somebody who i have never met or no clue who it is...DONT change you lay it all on the table and fukers wanna pull a chair to your table they better get ready to EAT whats served!!! even if its their own words!!! ha ha ha as usual you got my RESPECT you are always ROCK!!!

The Tattler: Mais cher, dat was de most touching ting I never did seen befo. I can't believe you stopped atin dat dar piza, possibly losin all dem crawdad toppins, to pay you respects.

Mailbag:

Hello Tattler
Luminol has really been crying, truely hurting, that he has been ignored. I should hope that you would ease his pain and report he is scoping out his ass with a mirror to see his hemoriods or how ever you spell it.

Kindest Personal Regards
Goatlove

PS true story

The Tattler: Did you ever consider he might be looking for your head up there ?

Mailbag:

Hi tattler, this is earthy brunette, I enjoy your website and visit it almost nightly to find the scoop on social issues, although I do disagree with you on crabfisherman, I personally think he is vile, but keep up the good work
earthy

The Tattler: He pays us to say those things.

Mailbag:

After reading your last issue I felt a correction was in order. Your statement to Conservative Atheist went as follow... (You'r a vile little man, who expresses your anger about your physical short comings and dating your left hand.)...Vile little man? Have you seen this guy? He's a bloated chipmunk. Vile yes...Little? Hell No. I've taken the liberty of adding his pic to my profile for your viewing pleasure.
Running Fer Cover

The Tattler: Can you put that to music?

Mailbag:

Hey Dude, Dudette, or comgination of aformentioned

Why so bitter? Did'nt you know the world is full of shitheads? Do not loose heart though, as chat rooms are shithead magnets, not a fair demographic of our society, and your taking them to task will not change them. The social consiquences of being a shithead in the real world force them into the virtual world like exlax forces, well you get the picture.
Better leaqrn to rise above or you will be in over you head, heads in the shit pile. For me, a bong and a beer works really well. Good luck, like your rag!

Goatlove

PS If fish is not a meat, what is it?

The Tattler: Fish.

Mailbag:

Just want to let you know that i really enjoy reading your site. Great twist of words, and usually right on the mark calling them as i also see them. Todays version i found especially entertaining, and spot on....
Yes, I'd have to say i'd vote for today's tattler As Best version thus far.
Keep up the good work. Please say hi to all of the decent folks on paltalk for me, and continue to rip up the assholes.

ZAKJAN (The Banned one)
The Tattler: Hello decent folks.

Mailbag:

Listen TICKLES YOU FLAMING FAG GO GET FUCKED

greeneyes

The Tattler: Excellent alliteration. You grab the reader's attention immediately with a one word command; "Listen". Then you waste no time addressing the villian by name. Very good, now you have the readers full attention. "Flaming Fag" is a wonderful use of the visual in your written words. I can see the cigarette's crimson glow as clear as a crystal in my mind. "Go" a perfect verb, and so understated and under-used by today's wordsmiths. Your finale "GET FUCKED" is magnifique. Bravo! And they say all the good writes are gone. Hemingway weeps at your simple, but elegant, words. I'm humbled in your presence.

Mailbag:

dumb ass I DID NOT BANN cc i don:t own the room Stephanie does now matter what scar hag tells you dumb fuck

greeneyes

The Tattler: Just for our own clarification, are we "a dumb ass, or, a dumb fuck"?


Quote of the day--- Ricochet Rebel: Noooogie you are the ratler? Noooogie: yes i am (We'll trade you one Driller for a Brutelogic).

Numbnuts of the day--- Conservative Atheist: rape is about stealing sex

The Social Issues Tattler

Wednesday, October 26, 2005
If you can't ignore an insult, top it, if you can't top it, laugh it off, and if you can't laugh it off, it’s probably deserved.

Hat's flew in admiration of Isabellah, who indeed, can laugh at it. Isabellah is the sort of person only a fool could dislike, and the fools are few in Social Issues when it comes to Isabellah. This woman is much admired. Our gratitude goes to Isabellah who understands satire and parody.

On the flip side, we have camping fool, the woman who put the fool in foolish. In her room today, hours and hours were spent on Camping giving out legal advice much like Voo does, but without his limited knowledge. Lexislauren tried to sue the mega-corporation Wal Mart, for a slip and fall incident. Lawyers (the real kind) have been heralded from on high, but it seems Lexislauren's seven hundred dollars were poorly spent, because the lawyer said "Sorry , no go". Camping, who is an expert in the spending habits of the feebleminded, offered up unwise and not so sage advice? Possil, Pluribus, Frisson, and others tried to toss logic on the fires of stupid burning brightly, "TheePossilfossil: let it go lex," but the estrogenettes would have none of it. Nadiafl, made more sense than birth control for fruit flies. "NadiaFl: Your damage of being "hurt" does not mean that it involves you getting compensation for it". Lexislauren, who retained legal counsel, had this to say " lexislauren: whats retainer mean. Sometimes the game is being played, long after the lights go out.

Starlight, Starbright, the first Star I see each night. I wish I may, I wish I might. Say "The Tattler" in your room tonight.

A five thousand shekel reward has been offered to anyone who can click on the "Mainstream Politics" room, and not hear Karl blathering on the mic. This loquacious loud-mouth wind-bag makes the Hindenburg seem under inflated.

Crazy Cajun and SpicyCajun were huddled in a corner chatting. They were whispering and all we could pick up was a bit of the chatter.

SpicyCajunPepper:
A herd of buffalo can move only as fast as de slowest buffalo, and when the herd is hunted, it is de slowest and de weakest ones at de back dat are killed first. Dis natural selection is good for de herd as a whole, because de general speed and health of de whole group keeps improving by de regular culling of de weakest members. In much de same way de human brain can only operate as fast as de slowest and weakest brain cells. Excessive intake of alcohol, we all know, kills off brain cells, but naturally it attacks de weakest and slowest first. In dis way , regular consumption of beer eliminates de weaker brain cells , constantly making de brain a faster and more efficient machine. I am sure you have noticed dat de more you drink de smarter you get. Now you know why .

CrazyCajun:
Not only the brainium, the borax and the abominable cavity. The brainium contains the brain, the borax contains the heart and lungs, and the abominable cavity contains the bowls, of which there are five - a, e, i, o, and u.

SpicyCajunPepper:
Ya want a bit of crawdad pizza?


Driller50 has now been written about in The Tattler, the less said about this, the better.

MothersBruleSioux is sending smoke signals to Dan, informing him she'll be by his side in a few short weeks. Her excuse for her Johnny Horton "North to Alaska" foray, is that the airplane ticket she purchased when love was bountiful and beautiful is non-refundable, so the ticket will be used for Mothers to visit her cousin in the land of ice and snow. Mothers will be making a stop at Dan's door uninvited, and in her words, " If he slams the door in my face, he can do it, I don't care, let him do it, I'm a strong Lakota woman, and I don't care, I don't care, I don't, do I Dan, Dan come to the mic and tell them I don't care." This Lakota and Alaskan summit will be the equivalent of Custer's Last Stand when Dan flings open his front door and screams "Holy Shit, where did all the fucking Indians come from."

Speaking of animals (and who can't when Dan the cat culler comes to mind) big mama pat rescues horses and donkeys. She has a small spread of a few acres and has given it over to the care and feeding of abused larger animals. Respect in reams goes to you Pat.

WeeAlice had her much talked about surgery today. The Tattler wishes her a speedy recovery.

Idiot of the day ---- Lexilauren

Admin of the day --- Goast

Nice person of the day --- big mama pat

Quote of the day ----campingfool: i need someone to admin while i talk to lex (Run Forest Run)

Mailbag:

What a hoot to see my note to you in the public arena today; what a relief you took it in the spirit I intended. Such kindness cannot go unrewarded; I simply can't let you go through life not knowing which is your left hand, so let me share the visual mnemonic I used, to teach my daughter left from right, which is: hold your hands up in front of your face, palms outwards, and the hand that spells 'L' - THAT is your left hand!!!!!!!!! I do so hope that will be of use.

NotNeurastheniac

The Tattler: Easy for you to say, you have opposable thumbs.

Mailbag: again, again

Good use of the "Life of Brian" script.

Nice one Centurion............ like it.

Best regards

God (not the Messiah just a very naughty boy)

The Tattler:

God is listening. A question God, if you don't mind. The duck-billed platypus, was this a joke, or were you drunk ?

The Social Issues Tattler

Tuesday, October 25, 2005
Every fool finds a greater one to admire them.

For Starlyin only, because she's too dumb to understand satire. Listen up Starlyin RED TEXT IS QUOTES, and the rest is satire. Do you need note cards on your mirror with intructions on teeth brushing?

Starlyin, so The Tattler lies about you, does it? You danced around that little comment last night, trying to insinuate that "personal information about your real life (is there a fake one), has been published in The Tattler". When your feet where held to the fire about your fallacious comment, you said " No, not my personal information, but personal things about me. Whoever writes the Tattler knows me, has met me in person, or they wouldn't know these things." Well, Starlyin, you're one nut short in that peanut factory you call reality. There has never been one word of " personal information" printed in the Tattler, but you spew out grandiose mountains of garbage in hopes that some of your mindless followers will believe it, and once again you will be the victim. "Boo Hoo , they are picking on me. It's always me, they talk about." Here's a new flash for you, YOU talk about THEM. The difference between you and the Tattler is, what we say is on a page forever more, what you say is a flash in the pan, and deniable within the hour (which you do). You have tremendous problem with comprehension. We never wrote you said anything about Greeneyes in the "Half Past a Monkey's Ass" room, the reference to you and Greeneyes was about (and try to understand this, we will type in one syllable words where possible), you constantly talking about Greeneyes in your room. Whenever humanly possible you sneak in the opportunity to malign the woman. Something like this:

Anyone; Hi Starlyin, how are you today?

Starlyin; Today? Greeneyes is a pig, I hate her, that's how I am today.

Anyone; I had a nice sammich for lunch

Starlyin; I told you Greeneyes would slit your throat if you talked to her. How can you eat a sammich?

Anyone; Looks like rain.

Starlyin; Rain, don't get me started on Greeneyes and rain. She's the cause of the draught in my life.

Anyone; Well, the grass is greener with all this rain.

Starlyin; I told you, and everyone in my room, NEVER, mention her name to me.

(anyone has been bounced from the room)

Starlyin; See, I knew that was Greeneyes in here causing trouble. She hates me, and I never did a thing to her.

And stop smirking Greeneyes, you are no better. The pair of you are like two ugly stepsisters fighting over the glass slipper. Time to wake-up and realize you both have fat feet, and the Prince isn't coming to your castle.

Boaz, We'd insult you, but you're not bright enough to notice. Nah, let's try. Boaz you are a disgusting pile of sheep shit, with the intelligence of a rock, the sex appeal of foot fungus, and the vocabulary of an incoherent blathering hospital inmate. At an elegant dinner party, Lady Astor once leaned across the table to remark, "If you were my husband, Winston, I'd poison your coffee." Churchill immediately replied: "And if you were my wife, I'd drink it." Nothing bespeaks better of you Boaz than those words. Anyone who has been in your presence for more than five minutes ,would down the poison like shooters at a frat party. You sit among a gaggle of women, never noticing you are the only wiener in the bean pot.

WyldnClasy, what can be said about this woman, that hasn't been written in the "How to fake a Southern Accent Poorly" papers. Today, she stuffed her oversized feet into fuzzy slippers, slung a pink boa around her neck, and sashayed into sr dude's room to deliver a pan of freshly fried foolishness to all participants. Waiting for Godot and others were discussing world affairs, and WyldnClasy quickly offered an opinion. "Fiddle-dee-dee. War, war, war. This war talk's spoiling all the fun at every party this spring. I get so bored I could scream."

Godot and sr. dude aren't doing too well with the women of late. MeMother and Lady ZB, tried to take them to task on political issues, but since both these women still think wars are fought with muskets and mallets, there wasn't much of a conversation. MeMother did tell Godot that she would never back down from him, and he'd better know that right now. MeMother , look over your shoulder, you're sitting at the bottom of the knowledge barrel with no place to go but up. Lady ZB had nothing to add but for " yes, right, yes, I agree, you tell him MeMother, I agree, yes," Admiration has to go to these two tongue twisting Chubby Checkers fans for starting with nothing, making nothing out of it, and ending up with nothing. MeMother left the room disgusted, waving her cotton granny pants in surrender.

Saltspring said a relative of his invented the Robertson screwdriver. Yes, and scarlet begonias and firewoman have joined a Tibetan monastery for the study of abstinence.

sr. dude and grunto were entertaining the British contingent this afternoon. As the boys cleared away the dishes and coffee cups from the morning crowd, the Brits got into a deep discussion in the corner.

Goast:
How blest are those who know that the brotherhood is a sacred. How blest are we. We the brothers (and sisters) of the Brotherhood shall find consolation. How blest are we of gentle spirit. We shall have the earth for our possession. How blest are we the brotherhood who hunger and thirst to see right prevail.

CyndyUK :
Speak up!

AnthonyK:
Shh.

KevinBritish:
Quiet.

CyndyUK:
Well, I can't hear a thing.

Goast:
...spirit. The brotherhood shall have Social Issues for their possession.

CyndyUK:
Let's go t' the stoning of Spud.

AnthonyK:
Shh.

KevinBritish:
You can go to a stoning any time.

CyndyUK:
Oh, come on, Kevin.

AnthonyK:
Will you be quiet?!

Goast:
How blest are they who have suffered much to get into the Brotherhood...

Nandon:
Don't pick your nose.

AnthonyK:
I wasn't picking my nose. I was scratching.

Nandon:
You was picking it, while you was talking to Cyndy.

Anthony:
I wasn't!

Stefhaj:
Do you mind? I can't hear a word he's saying.

Nandon:
Don't you 'do you mind' me. I was talking to Anthony.

Stefhaj:
Well, go and talk to him somewhere else. I can't hear a bloody thing.

AnthonyK:
Don't you swear at the Nandon.

Stefhaj:
I was only asking her to shut up, so I can hear what Goast is saying, I want to join the Brotherhood.

Wayne:
Could you be quiet, please?

Goast:
We shall have Social Issues and all of Pal Talk at our command...

Wayne:
What was that? Oh shit , I have to go, the liver is burning.

Stefhaj:
I think it was 'Blessed are the Jesuslanders.'

Nandon:
Oh, I do hope so, them Jesuslanders do deserve something.

AnthonyK:
Well, obviously, this is not meant to be taken literally. It refers to any manufacturers of Bible products.

CyndyUK:
See? If you hadn't been going on, we'd have heard that Papasmurf.

Papasmurf:
Hey. Say that once more; I'll smash your bloody face in.

CyndyUK:
You're not going to thump anybody. I've got a hat.

Papasmurf:
I'll thump you if I like.

AnthonyK:
Oh, shut up, Papasmurf, you blue turd.

CyndyUK:
Oh, it's the Greek! Blessed are the Greek! Oh, that's nice, isn't it? Feta Cheese will be happy, 'cause she's been having a hell of a time.

AnthonyK:
Oh, come on. Let's go to the stoning, Feta said the rocks are free.

Idiot of the day ---- Starlyin

Admin of the day ----sr. dude

Nice person of the day --- Cyndy UK


Mailbag:

Forgive my bothering you with something you may find rather tedious, but I feel moved to say whilst I always find your daily missive a delight, today for the first time I felt a teeny tad bit cross at your mentioning the left hand, not once, but twice, in rather unsettling scenarios. The first time was within a list of negative attributes of certain chatters...and I was with you all the way...I really was....until I saw left handed amongst the scornful rhetoric....I would have preferred to see nefarious or mendacious in its stead - both of which apply to the aforementioned chatters one would think...the second mention was as regards how CA employs his left hand...the visual that came to mind, almost made me see my porridge again (going by your spelling, I would think you are American, ergo, may not know we English eat porridge for our brekkie). I mean, when that picture came to mind - all I could think was euwwwwwwwwwww, ick and yuck! CA the polemicist, is a misogynist who is only happy when spouting verbal diarrhoea....Freud could have writen rheams about him - alas Freud, like Monty Python's parrot, is no more.

Being the intuitive luminary that I know you to be, you will have worked out that yes - I am indeed of that happy band of left handed folk...which is why I found it distressing to be lumped together with such reprobates in such a negative way. I know that not all left handed folk are without a stain on their character - I mean, Bill Clinton (ahem) was proof positive of that!!!! but if one tempers the list with such notables as Lewis Carroll or Marylyn Monroe (to name but two of a HUGE list of left-handed movers and shakers) I feel sure you will agree, that we lefties are just ordinary people struggling against a tide of dismissive folk whose thought processes are contaminated by educators and the ignoramous whose agenda is driven by fear of the unknown, because we are the minority. I must add here, I do NOT put you in either category; I comfort myself with thinking that you are clearly right handed yourself, so would not have known that reading about left handedness in such contexts would occasion one to reach for the smelling salts.

Cripes, feel heaps better, now I have got that off my ample chest...thanks

NotNeurastheniac

The Tattler: Which one is the left hand ?

The Social Issues Tattler

Monday, October 24, 2005
The greatest ignorance is to reject something you know nothing about.

What a calamity cluster in the halls of Social Issues this fine fall day. Rooms where opened, rooms were closed. Tiny rooms were huge, and huge rooms were none existent. Friends became foes, braggarts attacked each other, and even with all that, a great day was had by all. Pal Talk needs to rename itself " Hateful Harangues and Other Happy Times".

Conservative Atheist and Isabellah have re-teamed their horses, loaded the old chuck wagon (you never want to have Conservative hungry and hateful), jumped in their jalopy, and headed on the road to hate and happiness. Isabellah was giddy with glee as her long luxurious locks flapped in Conservative's face, but his glare was trained on her lotioned legs and freshly showered ego. Their rickety old jeep jumped over bumps and clumps as it headed into town. The two "friends" (euphemism for cyber snugglers), smiled, and broke into song as they lost themselves in each other's eyes.

(sung to the music from Endless Love , apologies to Luther and Mariah)

CA: My love There's only you in my cyber life The only thing that's right

Isabellah: My first love on Pal Talk

CA: Yeahhhhhhhh

Isabellah: You're every breath I take, You're every step I make, Every room I make.

CA and Isabellah together: And I, I want to share, All my gossip with you, No one else will do And your eyes (your eyes, your eyes) They tell me how much you care Oh, yes You'll always be My endless chat love Two hearts Two hearts that beat as one Our lives have just begun And forever I'll hold you close in my arms I can't resist your charms.

CA: And I'd play the fool And you know I do You know I don't mind

Isabellah: And yes, You mean the world to me no matter what crabby says.

(tears fall from their cheeks like rain in a Tsunami)

As the pair of prancing pedantic rounded the corner to Social Issuesville, a light bulb appeared over Isabellah's head *boing*, and she shouted "Hey CA, I have an idea, (giggle), let's open up a room, invite everyone in town, find Crabby and roast him over an open spit while we jab sharp sticks up his ass for fun (giggle), doesn't that sound wonderful, can we do it CA, can we, uh, can we please?"

"Isabellah, you know how I love to abuse women with words while you by my side. Of course we can do that you silly goose." CA giggled himself at his own words of love to his beloved Isabellah (pronounced Eyes A Bell Ah, probably because her eyes are always on his belly). CA bragged on " Why today little miss of mine, I caught Goddess in the corner and beat her into submission until she cried like a girl. Isa, it was my finest moment. I mean really, what man doesn't get off in his Y fronts when he gets to abuse a woman."

"Oh CA, I hear that and all I can say is, why don't people understand why I love you so much?" (little hearts float above Isabellah's heard, as doves chase each other in circles). "You know how to make a woman feels so much like a bucket of shit, it's breathtaking."

CA and Isabellah erected a chatter shack , and after inviting everyone but God and Hitler to attend, it was time for them to make complete and total fools of themselves. Crabbfisherman showed up, and as the midget said to the fat girl, " you sure you want to try this with me". CA and Isa tag-teamed the fisherman from the north, but they were no match for his quick pugilistic jabs and undercuts. Isabellah was very concerned about her " wet panties" and much time was spent on just how they arrived in such a condition. Crabby laid no claim to dewing her delicates, but did say Isabellah and CA reminded him of two pigs rolling in their own shit. Isabellah, (looking up from her private shit pit) insisted someone in the social issues setting did do the deed, but she just couldn't remember who. Kind of like " so many men, so few panties", or " if you damped your drawers once, the rest are redundant". The mystery of the soggy shorts was never solved, but it was made very clear that someone has a very short penis, another has a shorter memory, and although Isabellah swore off Pal Talk 'til the end of time, the end of time is nye. Welcome home Isabellah, it's been almost civil since you left.

Oh, we almost forgot, as CA was ranting about women being "insecure" he flew to his naughty nemesis for verification of his erroneous facts. "Isabellah, you tell them, okay, cause you have real book learning in psycho-ology. You tell them what you told me, Isabellah, that women sleep in the fetal position because they are all insecure" After a pause longer than a elephants pregnancy, Isabellah typed, " isabellah-1: let me clarify what i meant by the fetal position and vulnerability... it means women are vulnerable to backaches and leg cramps ... not vulnerable like "uncertain, or insecure" Isabellah, if dumb was drums, you'd be an entire band. You backpedaled like a chimp on a unicycle on that one, and not one person with a working brain cell believed you.

Rotten Ronnie, who usually has a room overflowing at three or four people, hit the mother-load today. Voo's room was had been sent to naughty school for a short time, and so the entire world of voodiots took refuge under Ronnie's Rambling Rantings and Yodeling umbrella. As the room swelled to over 80 people , Ronnie hid under his desk in his trap-doored red long johns and cried " Please make them go away, I'm scared" Walks arrived and typed "walksthedesert1: i agree voo we dont need bigots in mainstream", and Voo replied, "LordMercifulVoo: I agree, Walks. We have enough! LOL". Can you guess which one was using the community brain today?

SpudSpud mashed (pun intended) his way into the conversation, by trying to tell the room he "didn't hate American people, he only hated the American government." Right Spud, when pigs fly. You must have forgotten when you called for the "culling of all Americans", or wished death to every single American on the face of the planet spudspud_1: dumb jesuslanders created this mess. Come on Mr. Potato Head, if you're going to be hateful, be it, but don't be a hateful liar. Two are too many hats, even for you. Oh, and Spud, was that Jacquie's ass attached to your lips?

Karl sat sucking his thump and then with a woody in hand he shouted " KARL d-Az: MAINSTREAM POLITICS IS OPEN NOW. Off he pranced holding Voo and Walks hands. It was as charming as watching a dog lick his own testicles.

MothersBrule rode her limping Lakota legend into the room and was instantly jumped on like a fat dog at a flea circus. FoxyIrish had the audacity to say what Mothers talks about is of no interest to anyone. Foxy, don't look now, but the expiry date on your endless Irish prattle about the IRA, and Sinn Fein has just come due. You are the Kevin of Ireland, and do more harm to the land of green than Bobby Sands did to Weight Watchers.

Waiting for Godot must have lost the last bit of common sense he had. Today talking to CA (there's a reason for the insanity plea alone), he said " All southern states do not give employment health insurance, if you want it , you have to bring it with you from the northern states." And hell is having hockey tonight at 9pm. Godot, when you tell such exaggerated lies to the unknowledgeable, and you are caught with your tongue in the turnstile, you can never be believed again, or taken as the voice of intelligence. You also said that all the women who run rooms in Social Issues are "Nazi bitches", and you wonder why you haven't been laid since Noah shouted " Which one of you shit on my bed?"

Sr Dude is back from France. Dude is like biting into an unpeeled lemon. Bitter , makes your ass pucker, but there is something amazingly refreshing about the entire experience. Dude shoots from a French-Canadian hip, and along with leaving out too many verbs in his stories, he also leaves out the warm and fuzzy, politically correct nonsense that the lesser and spineless folks manage to interject into everything they utter. It's nice to see the old tackless fart back.

Clipper climbed out of his tree and slid under Ronnie's door in full battle gear armed with more guns than China has Chins. Clipper makes Charlie Manson look like Gandhi. It seems that Clipper warned the world of impending doom from an invasion of jock itch. He knew this would be the end of he world, because all the Gold Bond has been tainted with itching powder, by the CIA, FBI, ROP, and DOD, so they might take over the world when all the men were scratching and licking their balls in dark duct taped closets while eating tainted bologna sandwiches (sammiches to you Isabellah), and sucking back on Kool-Aid. Clipper , the only thing clipped about you is your frontal lobe.

Crazy Cajun was sitting under Clippers tree today cutting out paper dolls and singing " On da good shwip wollywop is a , a , dweep, no sleep, no peep, no. Does anyone have a quart of cold medicine? A tip Crazy, Jesus is coming, look busy.

Idiot of the day --- Isabellah

Admin of the day --- Rotten Ronnie

Nice Person of the day --- GoddessofSomethings (took more hits than Babe Ruth's bat)

Quote of the day ---- mechanic101: Most people have an opinion...some people want to keep others from giving theirs...some people attempt to control what others think...freedom of speech would allow all opinions to be voiced

Mailbag:

Sent :
Monday, October 24, 2005 4:27 PM
----- Original Message-----
From: (name omited)
To: socialissuestattler@hotmail.com Sent: Sunday, October 23, 2005 12:15 PM
Subject: Ancient Man
Dear Twatler it is a well known fact that Ancient Man was far smarter than today's, that in Cave's used by Cave Men after the flood Noah Flood that is, they found painting and tools equal to today's , so if you really know any thing about Neanderthal then you would have found an other way to get back at my stupid remark as you so put it .
They have also found musical instruments in this same era. So please go research Ancient Man . your sincerely Wee Alice

The Tattler: You sent the same message again?

Stone-age woman
Carries club to beat
Stone-age woman
Got prehistoric feet
Stone-age woman
A home-maker too
With just one tooth
You got a man to breed with you?
Scary!Stone-age woman
Would Darwin agree?
Stone-age woman
Can you say 'Ugh' clearly?
Stone-age woman
Not much removed from a monkey
Didn't fall far from the treeOuch!
Stone-age woman
Kill reptileStone-age woman
Bone hairstyleStone-age woman
You're reviling me
Stone-age woman
Ugh, ugh, ugh
Stone-age woman
Stay away
Stone-age woman
Do not stray towards me'
Cause I fear you
And you may bite
If you come near me
I'll die of fright
Stone-age woman
Please walk on by
Stone-age woman
Would you comply?
Stone-age woman
Put rock away, way away
And now she's walking past me, hurray
I'll count my lucky stars, today
Run back to my campsite, but wait
I cannot flee
Cause I'm feeling quite groggy
And she's dragged me by my feet
No, no, stone-age woman

The Social Issues Tattler

Sunday, October 23, 2005
Let us be thankful for the fools. But for them the rest of us could not succeed.

Tonight's Tattler is for our selected audience who hate The Tattler with a passion so pungent that a skunk would run in the opposite direction from you. People, there is a simple solution to your problem with The Tattler; do not read it. Rather than choose the intelligent approach such as avoidance of that which annoys you, you have chosen to read, ridicule, misquote and malign something you neither understand, nor can appreciate. By doing this, your mission is to control the words and thoughts of others, while having them believe your painfully pathetic pandering to lies and half-truths, as you suck sympathy from the saps you sucker in with your endless stories of victimization. You are as bitter as a cold wind on naked cheeks in Alaska. Your names could be listed here, but you know who you are. You are the most two-faced disingenuous, whining, cunning, deceitful, dishonest, duplicitous, insidious, left-handed, oblique, underhanded, bunch of back stabbing bombastic bastards ever to see their reflection in a mirror without a crucifix and a scream.

If you need more evidence of this, drop by "Half Past The Monkeys Ass" to watch these sanctimonious, holier-than-thou, people who have the audacity to castigate The Tattler for words they say.

To hell names won't be mentioned.

Starlyin, you whine about your name in the Tattler, while at the same time you say the ugliest things about anyone who does not tap dance to your twisted terms of endearment. If hell had an ice cube for every time you mentioned "Greeneyes" it would be an iceberg. If you don't like things said about you, why don't you start the ball rolling by claming up about others. How's that for a new and improved Starlyin.

Greeneyes, you are no better than the shit on a baboon's ass. You stir the pot constantly because, for you, negative attention is better than no attention at all, and if you weren't such a humungus bitch, you'd be milk toast. Leave Starlyin alone, move on, get over it, and grow up. You are disgusting, and your vocabulary, although limited is certainly vulgar.

Goddess, you have more venom than a rattle snake, and when your tail isn't shaking out warning of an impeding strike, it's wiggling at every man with a breath in his body. You cause trouble, and it's sad, because away from the booze and false bravado you are an intelligent woman with more to offer than you're bringing to the table.

Boaz, you are just a disgusting excuse for anything close to human. The word nigger slides off your lips with a comfort that is chilling to the listener. You belittle and abuse women, while asking intrusive and embarrassing questions that would make Howard Stern blush. How anyone can tolerate you for more than a millisecond, must only be attributed to the amount of thorazine they are on.

Isabellah, you created your own problems by playing all sides against the middle. You are reaping the rewards of your work. If you ever get the pole out of your ass from fence sitting, you might grow a spine and be your own woman. Rick is not an adjective, stop using it as one.

Lord Voo, another one who's brain is being used for everything but decent conversation. This man flew into social issues with a train wreck on his mind, he's never veered from that goal. He changed the face of the rooms from something nearly tolerable, to rooms filled with vile, appalling, loathsome, miserable, nasty, nauseating, nefarious, perverted, repugnant, ugly, worthless, words, and the people who thrive off watching the fox be ripped to shreds at the end of the hunt.

Sensibly Forward, the most dishonest, bitchy, controlling, pompous, puke ever to spit out consecutive lies in the halls of Social Issues. This woman actually had the temerity to lecture scarlet begonias on motherhood, while she herself has her ass glued to a computer chair 23 hours a day.

Karl, although you couldn't lead a pissing contest in a brewery, you deserve mention for being so boringly bombastic that the dead weep at the sound of your voice. You are the most complete coward ever to wear the famous "hat" of Social Issues. Come out from the safety of your rat hole, and take the thrashing you so richly deserve. Baring that, shut up and give the world a break from your constant and annoying drivel.

Conservative Atheist, when you aren't giving out carts and happy face stickers at Wal Mart, why don't you read a book about sons, mothers, and oedipus. You're a vile little man, who takes expresses your anger about physical short comings and dating your left hand. You're on a runaway train to no where.

There are second bananas to the leaders of the shit parade, but they are without the qualities to reek havoc upon so many, with so little, for so long, as the mentioned masters of discontentment. Conservative Atheist, Buck, Jim (whatever your number is), Wee Alice, SpudSpud, Karen Dances, Polecat, Imilac, Noooogie, USMC_48, MeMother, High Falutin, Alfie, MothersBrule and Dan, all Ed McMahons.

The rumor mongers who talk about "courage" and " truth" and "lies", decry the people who enjoy a laugh in the daily battle called life. The bunch of you wouldn't know humor if it crawled up and bit you squarely on the ass. So keep trying to have The Tattler shut down, because as we all know, the words on this page are much worse than the disgusting pictures, and words on other pages. You are all so dumb, you are attacking the hen, while the foxes are stealing the hen house. Daily you ramble on about suffering from rare and deadly diseases, poor scores on final exams, extreme virginity, fear of being kidnapped and executed by anal electrocution, and guilt for being born with a breast on your forehead while working in a travelling freak show for pennies. How stupid are you? Sure you will get laid by every Playboy model. What a bunch of bullshit. So this message is a big BITE US to all the people out there who have nothing better to do than to send stupid emails. Maybe you evil letter leprechauns will come into my house and sodomize me in my sleep for not responding to you.

There are some decent, good and entertaining people in Social Issues, and for the readers of this "rag" , as it's become to be known, you know who most of them are. The short list is: Crabfisherman, (intelligent, witty, and can laugh at himself). E Pluribus,( a true gentleman). PossilFossil, (ditto). Suzanne, (a sweet as butterflies on a babies nose). Chat Attack (brilliant wit), Andrea (look up nice, you'll see her picture), sincere, Iliad (funnier than is legal), Kaboom, (kind and good) Luan, (ditto), Molly, (a true friend), and others, Frisson, Swan, Godot, Grunto, Halie, GoodHeartedWoman, Wendy, Ravenn, KL, Zippergate, Tornado, Snow Ogre, Immotalkeane, Goast, AnthonyK, CyndyUK, Stefhaj, and Wayne, (good, kind and what all friends should be). Addydawn, (intelligent, and can take anything, anyone tosses at her) God (only one God in Social Issues, and this one is top drawer, as funny as they come), Athena (tough, intelligent, and gutsy). Kevin British, Drewfoo, Rykielle (lovely woman), Kim Deer, Native Daughter (speak to her on native issues, good woman, kind heart), Hobsnob, Rotten Ronnie, Tanasul, Bob Arnold, Sally OMally, CharlesNewYork, and others.

And now for the identity of the Tattler, something you have been holding the front of your pants in anticipation of (ended that one with a preposition, for you Diana and Swanny). You've spent endless hours and played countless games attempting to be victorious in sniffing out the writer, so the game is finally over. It's time to reveal who the Tattler really is.

The Tattler was started by Jesus in 5 A.D. and was brought to Social Issues by midget pilgrims on the Mayflower. It is typed out by three shagless monks in Tibet, then given to a leper in Botswana with no teeth who's been tied to a dead elephant for 27 years for good luck. He is being paid five cents to run barefooted across the Atlantic to deliver the writing to three excommunicated nuns from Latvia licking stamps for food on the streets of New York. The nuns hand it to the crippled pigeon, who flops his way to our shithouse office in the bowels of the city. From there it is sent to you with love.

Idiot of the day --- You know who you are

Admin of the day --- Anyone not listed above

Nice person of the day ---- Suzanne

Quote of the day ---- Hey Richie: well for two days in a row i have had swordfish... i don't think any other meat is better (fish is not meat you knucklehead )

Mailbag:

Dear Twatler it is a well known fact that Ancient Man was far smarter than today's, that in Cave's used by Cave Men after the flood Noah Flood that is, they found painting and tools equal to today's , so if you really know any thing about Neanderthal then you would have found an other way to get back at my stupid remark as you so put it .
They have also found musical instruments in this same era. So please go research Ancient Man .

your sincerely Wee Alice

The Tattler: Alice , Alice, you wee poor thing. A flute playing, knuckle dragging, mouth breather, painting dinosaur pictures on Noah's Ark, is not proof you aren't dumber than dog turds on the tundra, but this email sure is. Our midgets are slamming their little heads against the wall trying to understand what you wrote.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Social Issues Tattler

Saturday, October 22, 2005
Be not astonished at new ideas; for it is well known to you that a thing does not therefore cease to be true because it is not accepted by many.

Truth and lies, the most overused and abused words in Social Issues. For those of you unable to differentiate between the two, may we suggest a Dick and Jane book or you might want to carry on coloring outside of the lines.

Starlyin and MothersBrule attempted to settle their differences last evening in Starlyin's room, as Tornado and the Lippy Lakota had tried the night before, but Mothers said she had no sound, and no mic, which can only be interpreted as " no brains, no excuse" to the knowledgeable. Mothers popped in and out of Starlyin's room like a rat in a cheese factory, but this encounter will be much like two elephants screwing; a lot of grunting and groaning, but no visible results for two years. The entire exercise could only be called "Dances with the Truth" , with Mothers playing the role of "Kick My Ass" and Starlyin as, "Dances with Wackos", Dan is "Stands with Dead Cat in Fist", and Boaz as "Wind up his Ass"


Dances with Wackos: With Kick My Ass , it was always more than a while on the mic. There was purpose in everything she did, and I knew she wanted me to be her friend. But I was sure of myself. I would be an excuse, and that's all that Social Issues would need to find this place. I pushed her as far as I could to move along. But in the end, she only smiled and talked of simple pleasures. She reminded me that at her age, a good shagging by Dan was better than anything. Kick My Ass was an extraordinary dumb woman.

Kick My Ass: The white men who made Pal Talk came around the time of my grandfather's grandfather. Eventually we drove them out. Then the Mexicans came. But they do not come here any more. In my own time, the Texans. They have been like all the others. They take without asking. But I think you are right. I think they will keep coming. When I think of that, I look at this keyboard. I don't know if we Lakota are ready for these people. This chat program is all that we have, and we will fight to keep it. Yes we will, keep it, yes, keep it we will keep it, yes, keep it , yes (Slap to head by Stands with Dead Cat in Fist) Thank you Stands, I needed that.

Wind up his Ass: I've just pissed in my pants... and nobody can do anything about it.

Stands with Dead Cat in Fist: (steps away from Wind ) Wind is thanking Dances with Wackos for the feathers in his hat.

Kick my Ass: Only a white man would make that mess for everyone to see. We Lakota make porn movies for our daughters to star in. Stupid wasichu. May a tatonka spit in your eye. Spit in your eye, spit in your, spit of eye, so eyes can spit.

Stands With Dead Cat in Fist: Dances with Wackos, you must listen to the wise words of Kick my Ass, she has many lies to tell, and the ones she doesn't tell I will make up.

Wind up his Ass: I've just pissed in my pants... and nobody can do anything about it.

Dances with Wackos: The strangeness of this life cannot be measured: in you trying to produce my death, I was elevated to the status of a living hero by tossing your ass out of the room. Go, Kick My Ass, to the land of your forefathers, annoy them until they take an arrow in the eye to stop the pain of your tongue wagging, and leave the white people to suffer in the memory of money long not sent. Take Stands with Dead Cat also. Leave our land, and my people.

Wind up his Ass: I've just pissed in my pants... and nobody can do anything about it.

(music rises) Kick and Stand walk hand in hand into what they think is the sunset, but in reality, it is an on coming train. Toot toot, and then there was peanut butter.


Addydawn, we give you a shovel, and you just keep on digging in the shallow end of your gene pool. The Tattler did not berate you for your advanced and bountiful education, but rather for your constant need to jam every single solitary moment of it up everyone's ass until they puke multiple degrees of degrees. If you can't understand the subtle difference between those two statements, your next patient will suffer an esophageal sigmoidoscopy with a twist of lime at your bewildered bed side mannerisms.

The Old Buckeroo, is at it again. This mental midget told crabfisherman and E Pluribus today they were not being "nice" (oh that dreaded nice word), to people in a room he was taking up space in, and then went on to attempt to rip holes in their hides the size of buckets. Buck told the two men, what they should say, think and read, but all in a very "nice" way of course. Crabfisherman took the opportunity to display, yet again, his uncanny ability to hit every nail on the head when it is most needed, by pointing out what a true blue hypocrite Buck really is. There is hope that Buck will change his name to sycophant for the coming festive season.

Goddess you didn't get "stature" for being written about in The Tattler, you just got drunk and shot your mouth off. You make our work so damn easy every time you do that. Keep up the good work.

KL and Wee Alice were hysterical today. Village Idiot was posting a fake whisper in text ***** whisper , blah blah**** and since it was of the lascivious nature, KL assumed she was the only one seeing it. She admonished Village Idiot for his sexually transmitted diatribe without knowing all could see the Emperor had no clothes. Wee Alice split a gut laughing, trying to explain the entire cluster of comedy to KL. Truly a Social Issues moment for the year book.

Kevin 421 has just been notified by the Canadian government to stop talking about Canada. It seems tourism has fallen off by a whopping 98 %, and 31 of the 32 million Canadians no residing in the land of syrup and beavers have applied for visas to move as far away from Kevin as is humanly possible. The beavers have also made a pack to drown themselves in maple syrup should Kevin not conform to the requests of the government. Kevin, a message from Paul Martin himself, " Shut the fook up, yer killin us lad."

E Pluribus and Jim (something or other) did their best penis measuring pageantry today because Jim feels (love men with feelings), E Pluribus is talking down to him and his friends, and they don't need that uppity talk. "Why shucks darn (sniff, hick, fart) we's just a bunch of good ole gals and guys pickin and grinnin and 'joyin our damn selves. Thens in you walk Mr Booksmarty Pants with you big words like " veggitables, moreroast, and coralumdrum" and thinks we donts knows the meanings. Well E buddy, wes gots your number and and if in you wants to sits at our table you best brings your own velveeta" (smaking of lips is heard). E Pluribus sat silently, probably shaking his head in dismay, or this May, it was all so confusing at this point, much like a toad trying to converse with Einstein. Jim, psssssssssst, when you said Pluribus was too smart for your room, you insulted yourself you turnip. Wee Alice piped her two cents into the conversation (shocker), and said she used to be highbrow, but now she talks to everyone on their level. Was the high brow on a Neanderthal Wee Alice?

Shellycan said Pluribus and Jim were like the difference between a shotgun and a rifle. A shotgun splatters the shot with buckshot going all over the place, a rifle is a direct, clean, no nonsense shot. Perfect analogy Shelly, we wish we would have been able to take credit for that one.

Now, to tie up a few loose ends.

Ravenn, sorry, we can't run a room like you for two days straight, thanks for the offer though. Also, Ravenn goes to bed at 7pm, and can never be seen roaming the halls of Social Issues after that hour.

Rykielle, it was a joke dear. We have nothing against you.

Menopausal and Armed, you've been mentioned, please move along now, (we tried to be nice Iliad, really we did).

Diane46_2005: I demand that the tattler type - " Diane =not worth mentioning" or something---consider it done Diane.

For now, Isabellah is getting off the field in Social Issues. But when the din subsides, and the amateurs depart, look for her to ride back in, mallet cocked, ready to play again.

toodleloo: I am not on enough to be the tattler--- sure you are.

shellycan: no crab id never stoop low enough to pick on someone's physical problems that takes a coward and im sure not that--- Can you remind us again, what was it you said about Starlyin?

Chat Attack: i should have asked him if he was a dwarf--- He sure looked it to us, and that band was a bit too tight, as you said.

No Soup For You: some go to med school and say to themselves, "Self, I want to know all there is to know about ass."---Or you could just spend time in Social Issues.

***************************************************************************************

Idiot of the day ---- MothersBruleSioux (Oh, how quickly they fall)

Admin of the day --- Starlyin

Nice Person of the day --- Starlyin, (For allowing Mothers to clear her name, even though Mothers can't)

Quote of the day ----Addydawn99: cat follows me everywhere ( cats love tuna )

Mailbag:

Well of COURSE we like you, silly, as Wayne said in that blunt, child-like way of his. Such kudos from Waynee are the ultimate prize- he is the epitome of sincerity.

But there's more.

Somehow, Tattler, you have achieved -and apparently without trying- that social issues status that (quite dysfunctionally) is lauded, envied, and chased by many of my social issue paltalk brethren: being feared.

You see, there we were, happily indulging our internet road rage and fulfilling our virtual images of ourselves, tripping over our own tongues and each other as we spewed the repetitious dogma and bumper sticker philosophies that we thought made us sound so damn clever, when YOU came along.

Well, hell! We never imagined that anyone was watching! It's like having a cafeteria food fight free-for-all interrupted by the school principal. Or more aptly, it's like being told there's a hidden camera in every room... always watching, always listening.

Suddenly we realize how stupid we all look. Well, some of us do, anyway.

So... that camera. We resent it, we love it, we fear it, we ham it up for it, and we will not stop trying to figure out where it's plugged in!

~~~Swanny

The Tattler: And all this time we thought we were just splitting the atom, curing cancer, and removing anal warts from toads.

Motorists Who Refuse to Thumbprint Will Go to Jail
Motorists in Arizona will now be required to give thumbprints to deputies if they are stopped for a traffic violation. In a pilot program motorists pulled over in routine traffic stops were asked to voluntarily provide their thumbprint.
Around 67% of motorists stopped declined to give thumbprints but when the new policy comes in: "This will be mandatory. No exceptions," says Sheriff Arpaio of Maricopa. "If they don't want to give the print, they're going directly to jail. Period."
Traffic violations considered criminal include: reckless driving, failure to yield and unsafe lane changes amongst others. "Of course we can take prints," says Arpaio "We can arrest everybody if we want to." The prints are used to confirm identities.
source:http://www.azcentral.com

The Social Issues Tattler

Friday, October 21, 2005
If women are supposed to be less rational and more emotional at the beginning of our menstrual cycle when the female hormone is at its lowest level, then why isn't it logical to say that, in those few days, women behave the most like the way men behave all month long?

The estrogen was flying today like swallows to Cpistrano. It was a woman's war zone, and the gonad group sat silent, so afraid their boys would be hanging from yardarms if a tiny utterance fell from their lips. GoddessofSomething, and Isabellah, took more jabs at each other than were countable, and it ended with Goddess inviting Isabellah over for a wall papering party. Isabellah promised she would drop by and provide the needed case of gin to make it through the session. It seems Goddess is angry with Isabellah because of Isabellah's marriage. This coming from a woman who flies through men like laxatives through a Canada goose. What possible business could it be of Miss Goody Goddess if Isabellah's husband is Marquis de Sade himself? Interesting, that Goddess has such a vested interest in others marriages. Isabellah, on the other hand, tried to calm the waters, make a joke of the situation, even ignore the pathetic and rather sick comments from Goddess, ranging from " make me a sammich with your one arm", to singing

Lean on me, when you're not strong
And I'll be your friend
I'll help you carry on
For it won't be long'
Til I'm gonna need

This song was a reference to an arm disability Isabellah has. This coming from the Lady of Liver Damage. Goddess was so drunk on the mic, eventually her words slurred into one long continuum of nonsense. Goddess tried to correct Crabby on the pronunciation of the word " plethora" by saying it was " pleth aura". Crabfisherman then foolishly jumped into the middle of the fur fling, and immediately had his eyes scratched out by Isabellah. He was last seen applying antiseptic in the general area of his genital. Isabellah, soon angered , and sang a tune back to Goddess---

Could have been the whiskey, might have been the gin.
Could have been three or four six-packs,
I don't know, but look at the mess I'm in,
My head is like a football, I think I'm gonna die,
Tell me, me oh me oh my,Wasn't that a party?

Isabellah left the room in a cloud of anger, Goddess said "disingenuous" for the ten thousandth time, and the absolutely amazing thing about it all, was that the two biggest whiners of the " they are picking on me " crowd, were running the room, and did nothing.

Crazy Cajun and Sensibly Forward will surely cry " laundry, I was doing laundry", or in Crazy's case, " Brain surgery, I was doing brain surgery", but even a rock knew they were glued to their speakers, flying private messages back and forth to each other in sheer delight of the mess they were watching unfold. MelodyLane was scratching out Crazy's eyes over rumors Crazy had been spreading in rooms about Miss Lane. Seems Crazy has discovered yet another author of the Tattler, and this time it's MelodyLane. Crazy, you couldn't sniff out limburger cheese with a blood hound's snout. Your time would be better spent digging for truffles under trees. At least you'd have money in your pocket and not just mud on your face. Athena jumped into the battle, defending MelodyLane's accusations of Crazy. As always, Crazy went silent when caught with her tongue in a teapot's tempest. Sensibly the keeper of all that is truth, sat on her huge haunches as lies about ladies fell like colored leaves in November. Truth must only matter when it's convenient to her cause. Otherwise, truth takes a vacation in the Gondor room. Sensibly and Crazy, the new team of tormentors in Social Issues are the sort of people that would never give you a clean shot between the eyes, but rather they would prefer their victim flop and bleed a slow death for days.

Another delightful moment in this room, was when Larry_007, was on the mic discussing the merits of Billy Graham, while Scarlet Begonias was discussing oral sex in text. It just seems so wrong. "scarlet_begonias: i give really good head" This girl is a walking poster for a month long stay at the Miss Manners School of Etiquette.

MothersBruleSioux, opened her room last evening, with the intent of clearing up the " Money , Money, Who's got the Money" game rules. Tornado was invited, Starlyin too, (who declined), and as the throngs of curious filled the Coliseum seats, the lions gnawed at the doors to be freed and eat the gladiators. Andrea stood with raised white flag in her delicate hand, and as silence fell like a two year old's shitty diaper, she dropped the flag and the fray began. Mothers said she did send Tornado fifty Lakota dollars, and to the cheers of " prove it, show us the address", Mothers declined to break terms of service. Tornado then admitted he gave Mothers his address for just that purpose, because Mothers wanted to send money to help the man's friend out. Tornado never received the money, and Mothers sent it; there in lies the mystery. Does it really matter, when one person cared for a friend, and another tried to help. It seemed a win/win situation for both. Conservative Atheist donned a hat, so did Sally OMally, and the room became a nightmare of dotting, bouncing and child's play that is not worthy of further comment, but to say "Mothers, what the hell were you thinking when you gave the code out to everyone? "

Kaboom and Luan (room is in Luan's name) have a decent room, and they desperately try to keep it that way. If some fool tries to start a fight, carry a rumor, poke the pleasant, they are directed to the door. This room is filled with nice people, wanting a good time. Excellent job you two.

SpudSpud has his room open and working on building numbers up. He still uses the words "JesusLanders" in every sentence, followed by " I have no interest in Jesusland (his silly word for the USA)" , but he continues to keep the country of his discontentment a topic of conversation ad nauseam. Come on Spud, there has to be something worth talking about in all of Europe, even a good old haggis chatter would be better than your constant misstatements about the United States of America. You really are starting to sound like boy who was shunned by Miss Liberty herself.

Invitations are being sent out for the annual Halloween parties hosted by Starlyin in one corner , and Sensibly Forward in another (not in Gondor room, but her very own room). Starlyin is offering up fun and frivolity, with everyone changing names, followed by a thrilling round of " Guess the Idiot". Sensibly will be holding a " pumpkin carving contest" (don't ask us, we don't understand either), with games of " Bobbing for Boneheads, Pin the tail on Possil, Shoot the Messenger, Bone Picking and Mud Slinging. A great time should be had by all.

We have a few costume suggestions for the event filled October 31st night. No one will ever guess it's you.

Sensibly Forward --- The Tin Man (If she only had a heart )

Tornado ---- The cowardly lion

Crazy Cajun --- Stephen Hawking

EyeAm ---- Einstein

Andrea --- Glinda

Chat Attack --- An orator

Starlyin --- A victim

Greeneyes --- Hemingway

Shamrock ---- Rhodes Scholar

PossilFossil --- Hugh Hefner

E. Pluribus ---- Lady Justice

Kaboom ---- Fabio

Shellycan --- An American

Crabfisherman --- Mother Teresa

Boaz Frankel ---- Degenerate (no costume needed)

Rykielle ---- The woman in her picture

Isabellah --- A man

Ice Crusher --- A woman

Voo --- Grand Wizard

Swan Songstress --- A temper

SpudSpud ---- A french fly

Diana --- A library

AddyDawn --- Annie (the sun will come out tomorrow)

Iliad ---- Adonis

Spicy Cajun Pepper --- A pizza

Karen Dances ---- A republican

Karl Az --- God

God --- Gonads (and keep them after the party, they'll come in handy with Goddess)

Zulu --- An appearance

Strawberry Juice --- A sense of humor ( if you can find one )

CyndyUK --- Cheshire's Cat

Anthony K --- An open mind

Goast --- Ghost Writer

Tickles --- A writer

Scarlet Begonias --- Virgin Mary

Firewoman --- Eva Braun

jojo --- A spine

Charles of New York --- David Bowie

Sally OMally --- WitWit

Virginia 1776 --- A Brit

Slammer --- Nelson Mandela



Idiot of the day--- GoddessofSomething

Admin of the day --- Luan

Nice Person of the day --- MothersBruleSioux ( takes courage to answer the accuser)

Quote of the day ---- ezhaulmike_209: pont cunter pont ( And Shakespeare spins )

Mailbag:

Whoever you are....I love you!!

Wayne_9999

The Tattler: (hugging trophy you sent us) We haven't had an orthodox career, and We've wanted more than anything to have your respect. The first time we didn't feel it, but this time we feel it, and we can't deny the fact that you like us, right now, you like us! You do like us. You really do like us! (tears falling, is helped off stage)


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Social Issues Tattler

Thursday, October 20, 2005
The liar's punishment is not in the least that he is not believed, but that he cannot believe anyone else.

Sensibly Forward and Starlyin are invested members of the “they are liars, I've been wronged" club. Dues, to this most prestigious of sisterhood society is the ability to convince anyone that everyone is telling half truths but you. Lessons will be provided to those who dabble in truth as a mainstay. The Double S Liar's Club is based on a pack of lies, and half truths, draped in intimidation through friendship. Sensibly skewered Possil on a spit today, because in her words “if you believe them and not me, that says all I need to know about you." What a load of intimidating horse shit that is. Sensibly seems to think she holds the brain and thinking power of everyone she encounters, and this might be why she cowers in corners with the weak willed and limping loonies, because they refuse to, or can't point out the inconsistencies of her endless and complete distortion of truth. Starlyin is no better at trying to toss the limelight of lies onto another. This woman has roasted E Pluribus over an open pit of obfuscation about his authorship of The Tattler, but for some reason she can't understand why he is not to be believed, but she is? Can either of these women find the good common sense to see they do nothing but bully buddies into submission, and when that doesn't occur they toss their hair and stomp off in a shunning snit that would make an Amish community sit up and cheer the practice. E. Pluribus and PossilFossil have nothing to prove to either of you, and until you realize that both of your reputations precede your feeble attempts to declare yourselves the keeper of exactitude, neither of you are worthy of washing the skidders from their shorts.

Another complaint of Starlyin’s and let the Tattler make it very clear to her and anyone else that we do not print anything about children, or the children of people in Social Issues. A letter received was a letter printed at the bottom of yesterday's edition. We had no knowledge what Luminol was writing about, until you Starlyin announced it in an open room. If you want to wrap your hands around the neck of the culprit exposing your family’s life, reach up, and squeeze. Even a fish wouldn't be caught, if he kept his mouth shut.

Addydawn has gone from short pants to full dress uniform when it comes to maturity, humor at one's self, and the ability to understand what satire is. Today, Miss Dawn laughed with, and at herself, and it was a joyful moment indeed. If she would just stop saying "pee pee" for urinate, a complete and adult woman would replace the little freckled-faced girl with a Fisher Price doctor kit.

Walks the desert, and Brutelogic were tossing tomatoes at one another in Voo's Mainstream room today, while Voo was getting his annual fro frump by Isabellah. She really can toss a curl when she has a mind to. Walks, was heckling Brute because Brute believed Tom Delay would not be arrested in Texas. Walks was correct on this one, but isn't this the same man who is still wearing his “Kerry in 2004" boxer shorts? Brute and Walks are like two pit bulls on a short chain with on ham bone between them. While these two monologue mutts were tearing strips off of everything political Kate from Australia, and Morgaine were slapping each other with their purses in the aboriginal aisle. Kate has aboriginal blood in her veins, but Morgaine still found the need to regale the woman in every nuance ever uttered about this group of people since the dawn of time. While the banging at the belligerent brawlers table hit full swing, Voo stuck his head out from under the dryer, ordered himself a Dr. Pepper, and went back to reading " Briefs, More than Y fronts." by Clarence Darrow.

Betty said " Betty1861: cindy sheehan is a great lady BRUTE and she will be back BRUTE she went to rally the people in the uk and then she is back BRUTE LMAO". Come on Betty, think a little. Helen Keller, Eleanor Roosevelt, Marie Curie or Wilma Mankiller are great women.

Scarlet Begonias, listen to Crab.

On the subject of sea life, Crabfisherman has more guts than a Perdue processing plant. This guy is not only epigrammatic; he knows how to spell it. Crabby (as his friends call him) very seldom takes a side, but prefers to err on the side of common sense when dealing with a serious situation, but in a moment, he'll turn to his Bad Boy Peck routine and poke the pokeables in a room. Crab joins no clique, he circles no wagons, no joins no posse, but rather prefers to stand alone and be responsible for his words and actions, be they right or wrong. What is that old saying? The first sign of maturity, is accepting responsibility.

Grab your aluminum foil and join the tin hat troop in Bell/ Noory Coast to Coast room. Here you will discover the world is spinning on constant conspiracies, the moon processes cheese, and King Kong is having Godzilla's love child.

It's been rumored that Eleanor Rigby was doing the dildo dance on cam. Scarlet was teasing her about it today, and promised to “Make her more bowlegged than you ever will Tornado (that's 12 times Tornado) “when the King of Gondor announced Eleanor Rigby will soon be his Queen. Do Queens really hike their skirts for fun and frolic on the internet?

Diana defended her "Doggie Chat with Diana" conversations today by saying, “I don't know much about Politics and stuff." Diana, pick up a book, any book, but favorably the ones you don't color in or have dogs on the covers. Another anomalous idea for you, would be to sit silent and listen, you just might learn something to accompany your perfect spelling and genius mind.

A conversation between Possil and Crazy Cajun today

Possil: I liked the quotes about you CC, reminds me of the Little Red Book, by Mao Tse-tung.

Crazy Cajun: You read WHAT?

Possil: Mao Tse-tung, Little Red Book.

Crazy Cajun: Who's tongue?

Possil: Mao's Mao Tse-tung, of China. Chairman Mao

Crazy Cajun: Waaaa Waaaa Waaaaa, I got a shot today.

Papasmurf and FoxyIrish brought back the old “Irish vs English" or “Blarney vs. Bollocks". Papasmurf contends the IRA are terrorists, while FoxyIrish stands firm that they are the Bobby Sands Slim-fast sellers. Sally OMally and Crazy Cajun (who was threatening to hat up, if she ever remembered where she left the damn thing), jumped on the Smurf, and ripped off a few old scabs from days gone by. There seems no point to this exercise, because just about everyone has said some sad and sick things in the heat of debate (except Sensibly Forward and Starlyin), and to keep dragging them up months later, is pediatric. KevinBritish, jumped up and admonished Crazy for including his name in the insanity, and then immediately left for higher moral ground. If Tornado and Crab can kiss and make up, so can the rest of Social Issues. Pucker up folks; it's time for a round of Kumbaya.

Idiot of the day --- Sensibly Forward and Starlyin

Admin of the day --- Tornado

Nice Person of the day ---- KevinBritish

Quote of the day ---- Cheif-Rabbit: this f******* tattle thing is really getting sleazy now, everyone courting its good opinion, becoming self conscious and watching their behaviour, what for?? the approval of a bored erudite witty individuual who is equally sycophantic as those who court her favour

Mailbag:

dumb ass I DID NOT BANN cc i don:t own the room
Stephanie does now matter what
scar hag tells you
dumb f***

The Tattler: Well, Greeneyes, no one can say that Oxford education in creative writing didn't work for you. What a brilliant letter you idited. I hate to correct someone so educated in the skill of words as yourself, but The Tattler wrote: “Crazy has managed to have herself banned from the Social Injustice room, run by Greeneyes et” al.

Seems English is your second language Greeneyes, so let me try this.

No puede usted leyó
or
Non potete avete letto
or
δεν μπορείτε να διαβάσετε
or
Hey Greeneyes, We don noticed da letter fram ya and dat says dorty werds and ya don't half ta be dat nasty way by gawd. Dem dare is no ways to spak.

JOKE OF THE WEEK!!!!

Life After Beer

A man was walking down the street when he was accosted by a particularly dirty and shabby-looking homeless man who asked him for a couple of dollars for dinner.


The man took out his wallet, extracted ten dollars and asked, "If I give you this money, will you buy some beer with it instead of dinner?"


"No, I had to stop drinking years ago," the homeless man replied.


"Will you use it to gamble instead of buying food?" the man asked.


"No, I don't gamble," the homeless man said. "I need everything I can get just to stay alive."


"Will you spend this on greens fees at a golf course instead of food?" the man asked.


"Are you NUTS!" replied the homeless man. "I haven't played golf in 20 years!"


"Will you spend the money on a woman in the red light district instead of food?" the man asked.


"What disease would I get for ten lousy bucks?" exclaimed the homeless man.


"Well," said the man, "I'm not going to give you the money. Instead, I'm going to take you home for a terrific dinner cooked by my wife."


The homeless man was astounded. "Won't your wife be furious with you for doing that? I know I'm dirty, and I probably smell pretty disgusting."


The man replied, "That's okay. It's important for her to see what a man looks like after he has given up beer, gambling, golf, and sex."

The Social Issues Tattler

Wednesday, October 19, 2005
It's too bad that stupidity isn't painful

Someone left the door open to Crazy Cajun's cage, and she's roaming the halls of Social Issues again. Tetanus shots will be handed out in all rooms with an X'd CC over the door. Crazy has managed to have herself banned from the Social Injustice room, run by Greeneyes et al. Now admit it folks, it has to be the ultimate insult to be told by Greeneyes that you're not acceptable. That's like the turd telling the fart he stinks. After listening to Crazy for two minutes, Mother Teresa herself would have used her crucifix to beat Crazy until she stopped nattering incessantly, and the Dali Lama would have broken his silence to scream " Shut up woman, for all that is holy." Sadly, neither of these folks, living or dead, could stuff a sock in this woman's pie hole long enough for her to be silent. Crazy was seen standing in the doorway of the Gondor room, with a gun pointed at her head, and screaming " Don't move or the idiot gets it". Over the past few weeks, The Tattler has collected a few of the memorial moments from Crazy's life conversations, so buckle up, sit back, and welcome to our nightmare.

Crazy: He's probably just hibernating.

Hey, watch this!

I'll get a world record for this.

It's probably just a rash.

I wonder where the mother bear is.

These are the good kind of mushrooms.

This doesn't taste right.

This planet has an atmosphere just like on Earth.

What does this button do?

What time does your husband come home?

I'm going to go over and kiss that cute tiger

It's not loaded.

The water will break my fall.

I wont tell anyone.

I don't need a helmet.

Addydawn is back and making friends and influencing her enemies once again, namely Starlyin. Last evening there sat Addy, smooshing and playing nice in Starlyin's room, and tonight she's sitting in Social Injustice calling Starlyin and Crazy Cajun predators in Social Issues. Addy, the great white doctor, did another of her instant diagnosis, and proclaimed both of these women as losers, seeking funds from unsuspecting giving souls. Addy went on to say, she knows their type, and can pick them out in a crowd, and Starlyin definitely fits that bill. I can't imagine how Addy keeps all of her faces straight, as she waddles from room to room playing people as if they were the fools she contends them to be. Starlyin might be someone people choose to dislike, but by no means is the woman dishonorable. Shame on you Addy, for taking your dislike of someone to an all new low.

KL is attempting to admin a decent room, but sadly she hasn't the ovaries to stand up to Greeneyes. KL was telling soft_mousey tonight, that if Greeneyes shows up in the room, soft will be bounced. What soft has done to the Greeneyed monster from Mackerel Land must be heinous indeed, since mousey does nothing but speak of food. Maybe mousey suggested Greeneyes partake of a large dose of humble pie. Come on Greeneyes, what are you so pathetically afraid of, that you are bouncing people like bingo balls at a fish fry.

KL and Ravenn had their room open today, but unlike yesterday, it was so boring that everyone in the room fell fast asleep. Shamrock, Angell Heart, and Diana, were talking about their dogs, well not dogs really, they refer to their pets as their "children", their " babies", their (insert hurling sounds), "daughters". Can you imagine the expression of the doctor's face as Shamrock grunted and groaned her way to giving birth to a 2 pound Bichon Frise. Diana said " D_I_A_N_A: oh I was gonna say, have your doggy go for grooming at the same time you do" (yes, Diana, we concede, you are a spelling genius "gonna"). This is what every woman aspires too, sitting next to fido having a peticure (spelling intentional for you Diana you spell freak checker). Drop by tomorrow when these three inspiring brainiacs discuss "Furballs, a growing concern in the suburbs".

Iliad was room hoping today, and if you're too thick to catch his amazing sense of humor, your missing one of the truly great people of Social Issues. Not only is this man a comic legend amidst throngs of anal retentive's, he's also intelligent, and can discuss a variety of topics with any number of people. His cousin isn't half bad either.

SmartArse, we have testicles, and for $19.99 we'll send you a picture.

Just when you think testicles have been found, they slip away again and roll down the embankment of integrity. SpudSpud and his Europe, Land of the Free, room has fallen to another new low. Spud has banned Swan Songstress from his room, because he knows for a fact, that Swan is the writer, editor, and chief distributor of the The Tattler. Spud, like many people in Social Issues, who say they know who the writers/ writer of the Tattler is, you don't know shit from shineola. Swan defended your room in emails to the Tattler, and you are a fool for blaming her, or others, for the downfall of your self-centered, braggadocio, room steeped in your need to attract the attention of women who wouldn't give you a look in if you came dipped in gold and shooting dimes out your ass. Get over yourself Spud, stop blaming others for your failings.

Swan on the other hand, has taken the lemons tossed at her head by Spud and made a delicious drink. She's opened up a room titled "Europe and the World", which is everything Spud's room once was, tried to be yesterday, but failed today, and will never be again because he is too cowardly to let anyone in. Swan's is a good room, filled with people like Cyndy UK, Anthony_K, Stefhaj, gazunk, diogenic, Nandon, Goast, Wayne, and many other bright, intelligent, and kind folks.

Joan_30 and firewoman were discussing dildos last night, and if you live to be 1000, you'll never want to experience that again. There are certain things a woman shouldn't do after a certain age; wear a pink thong bikini, dance the macarena in a short skirt, play with Barbie dolls, call their dogs their daughters, show their breast for beads, and discuss dildos. We are not saying what Joan does in the privacy of her own home is not her business, but for all that is sacred, keep it private.

Rob517 is back, beware he might sing.

Slammer is being accused of writing the Tattler, and we must be honest and tell you the gig is up, Yes, folks, the secret is out, I Slammer is the writer of The Tattler. Between penguin plucking and making toast with toe jam, Slammer writes the Tattler. Spud, you know have your reason for the season of your discontentment. Let the games begin.

A great website has just opened up, and comes highly recommended by the Tattler. It is funny, has some great links, and you'll laugh for hours. If you are sensitive, do as we here at the Tattler suggest, don't read it. If you like a good laugh, please visit http://www.best-world-website.com/main.html

Congratulations to SpicyCajunPepper, she was the 10,000 visitor to The Tattler site. A pizza with the works is winging it's way to her, along with our never ending gratitude. Thank you Spicy, and yes, you and we are tighter than a frog's ass underwater.

Idiot of the day --- SpudSpud

Admin of the day ---Swan Songstress

Nice Person of the day ---- Nandon

Quote of the day ---- gazunk: I complained to Prime minister Martin that I have not been mentioned in the Tatler. He said it was because I did not vote for him.

Mailbag:

Dear Dummy:

You missed the second portion of my quote; it followed in another line of text:

"I've never heard CA say anything racist..."

"... compared to what I've said."

(Ask the fake black lawyer what I've said to him in his own room.)

And btw, what pissed off Starliar in Kaboom's room was the fact that I kept texting, like 5 times: "Here's a topic: teenage abortion." And, "How about this topic: My 13 year old is preggy; should I let her have it?"

If you're gonna do this rag, you need to pay attention.

Your vile subhuman,
Lumi

The Tattler: Well golly gee (hick) that clears it up.