The Social Issues Tattler
Saturday, November 05, 2005
Farewell, fair cruelty.
After tormenting the Americans, chastising the Canadians, and causing Native Americans to once again circle the wagons in war paint, the beloved manic mosquito in everyone's pants, has gone all British. When Mothers Brule's love affair with Boazlyin Land ended, she packed up her tepee, stuffed feathers in her bonnet, and headed east to VooVille, but alas, the affair was short. Mothers roamed the rooms of Social Issues looking for a place to park her nuggets of nonsense, when suddenly she smelled malt vinegar, salt, and the purity of the potato, in the distance; the food of her people. Mothers hiked high her buckskin brain, slung a bedraggled buffalo over her shoulder, and ran for the bearers of the red, white and blue (the original one), the Union Jack. Mothers is now more British than Sir Winston Churchill himself. She embraces the Brit's in the various rooms they run, and they are loving her right back. Americans stand on the shores with saddened hearts, and tearful eyes waving -----they bid Mothers adieu in song.
Mrs Robs-your-son (driving down a coast hi-way in a convertible MGB )
And here's to you, Mothers Brule,
The Brit's love you more than you can know.
God bless you, please Mothers Brule.
Heaven holds a place for those who pray you go away,
Hey Hey Hey
They'd like to know a ton about your lies
They'd like to help you learn to help yourself.
Look around you all you see are sympathetic eyes,
Stroll around England's grounds until you feel at home.
And here's to you, Mothers Brule,
The Brit's loves you more than you will know.
God bless you, please, Mothers Brule.
Heaven holds a place for those who pray you go away.
Hey Hey Hey
Hiding lies in a hiding place the American's will never know.
Put them in your panties with your cupcakes.
It's no secret everyone knows about your affair.
Most of all you've got to hide it from the Brit's.
Sitting at the computer on a Sunday afternoon.
Going to Alaska for a date.
Laugh about it, shout about it
One day you'll have to choose
Every way you look at this you lose.
Where have you gone, Dan the cat killer,
Our nation turns it's lonely eyes to you.
What's that you say, Mothers Brule.
Cat killing Dan has left and gone away,
Hey Hey Hey.
Charles of New York ran his " Unfair and Unbalanced" room last evening with the skill of a Ginsu waving Japanese chef. Buck, (our new best buddy) tried to pick a fight with anyone who would have him, the trouble was, no one would have him. Not one person took his wiggly worm bait, so he retired to the corner to lick his wounds (We hope it was his wounds, Please, let it be his wounds). Jannhere questioned Swan Songstress on the art of condom application, without the use of hands. We were quite interested in this topic, since as you know, we are without opposable thumbs. Swan will be giving a lecture next week on the subject of condoms and tongues, so be sure to drop by "Condoms can be condiments too", it should be a protected, but sticky lecture. Lord Merciful Voo, left VooVille, for a visit to the land of cheerful chatters. He cackled, as he perched himself center stage, to insult many, and defend the abuse in his room. He then parked his name at the bottom of the list, and waddled back home. It would be easier and a damn less painful, if he had just tucked flyers into everyone hands inviting them to his room. I guess Cindy Lou (Karl d-Az) had his panties in a wad, and needed his brain back. Mainstream room has been dropping in numbers, or Voo wouldn't have stuck his nose out of his cage to campaign for more pigeons.
Some (Luminol) have written regarding the lack of Voo sightings by The Tattler. The answer is simple. The Dali Lama himself couldn't tolerate that room for more than ten minutes. Their needle is stuck, and listening to their endless prattle about the poor (get off your ass and help them) the hungry (sell your computer and feed them) the unemployed (well, you can't give up for others, what you don't have yourself, so at least you can empathize on this one), the rich (you'd be rich too, if you did an honest day's work), the democrats (someone had to vote for Kerry), the Republicans (see "the rich"), could drive a whore to decency.
The Happy Hour was not so happy when Mothers Brule showed up to charge Andrea 2-U with threatening her. The alleged threat was Andrea offering to put a hat on and bounce Mothers for her insanity. Mothers, a head's up for you. When Andrea really does threaten you, you'll shit yourself like a goose gobbling laxative lover". Osinia, direct from Ireland and a pub, dropped by to say ---I've somethin' to tell ye. I'm ere to be tellin' ye. For the love o' Jaysus, this has to be the worst room I've been vistin'. What do ye be meanin'. Is that so? I can be takin' a round outta ya, don't be startin a fight with me, ya know. She was booted for making the room participants smash shamrocks into leprechauns wee faces.
Goast ran an exciting room today. Much of the time was spent discussing Mr. Enigma, and the Enigmaites. Jungle Bungle hates the man, Stefhaj respects him, Diogenic called him a wind bag (bringggg bringggggg Kettle, you're black), but the final consensus was most enjoyed him, and viewed him as a wealth of knowledge. The topic turned to riots and racism, thanks to KevinBritish. He took a well deserved tongue lashing from Jacqui_2, but sadly she was followed by metamagnet, who had a need to give a Miss American world peace speech. It was about as exciting as counting turds in the Ganges. To break the monotony prefixed said, " I watched the game today, but quite frankly, they are too fat, and quite frankly it was not a good game, quite frankly, I went shopping, but quite frankly it's not good to be honest but quite frankly I didn't do much." (see Ganges for boring).
Rob517: PLEASE CAN WE HAVE AN ADULT GROWN UP CONVERSATION (that whole pot kettle thing, again )
Social Issues Ten Commandments
1) There, their and they're really are three different words. Same applies for: two , to , too---your, you're. Look them up and use them correctly.
2) Leave old arguments at the door. No one wants to listen to your personal, petty, peeves.
3) If you take the mic, have a point. Blathering is not a sport.
4) Three hours on mic, really is too long. After three minutes you have lost your audience, if you ever had them.
5) Screaming does not make your opinion fact, and fact is not anecdotal evidence. No one cares what your Aunt Fanny was told by Tibetan monks in Moscow.
6) Laughing at your own joke, is comparable to chewing off your own nuts.
7) Some people are not funny. If no one laughs, you are one of them. Examples Alfie (not funny) Iliad (hysterical )
8) If you shoot somebody, don't whine when you're picking buckshot out of your ass.
9) People who frequent your rooms are not slaves. Give them a mule and ten acres and let them go free.
10) Admins are not babysitters. If you can't control yourself, piss off.
Idiot of the day --- The Brit's (be careful what you ask for )
Admin of the day --- Goast
Nice person of the day --- The Brit's (all is forgiven for that taxation without representation thing)
Quote of the day ----TornsCatWasDelicious: My favorite enigma quote ............."It's like listening to a voice coming from a corpse that's been rotting in a grave for decades"
2nd Quote of the day --- Menopausal and Armed: phyliss, how be you kiss my ass, how would that be ?
Mailbag:
Dear Dummy:
For months, in your pathetic and verbose monologues, you have consistently exposed that horrid shut-in of a succubus known as Starliar. But here's where you lose Lumi. You, at the same time, have heaped praises upon people such as crapfisherman. Do you not realize, Madame, that this little suck-up and others of his ilk -- by regular attendance in the bitch's cesspool of a room -- support and thus enable the aforementioned wretch? And speaking of supporting this shut-in, not only do you seem to live in her room yourself, you constantly inflate her ego by giving her the attention she feeds off, like a leech on a hemophiliac. If she weren't semi-literate, I would think the Tattler to be Starliar.
-- LUMINOL
The Tattler: You can think ?
Saturday, November 05, 2005
Farewell, fair cruelty.
After tormenting the Americans, chastising the Canadians, and causing Native Americans to once again circle the wagons in war paint, the beloved manic mosquito in everyone's pants, has gone all British. When Mothers Brule's love affair with Boazlyin Land ended, she packed up her tepee, stuffed feathers in her bonnet, and headed east to VooVille, but alas, the affair was short. Mothers roamed the rooms of Social Issues looking for a place to park her nuggets of nonsense, when suddenly she smelled malt vinegar, salt, and the purity of the potato, in the distance; the food of her people. Mothers hiked high her buckskin brain, slung a bedraggled buffalo over her shoulder, and ran for the bearers of the red, white and blue (the original one), the Union Jack. Mothers is now more British than Sir Winston Churchill himself. She embraces the Brit's in the various rooms they run, and they are loving her right back. Americans stand on the shores with saddened hearts, and tearful eyes waving -----they bid Mothers adieu in song.
Mrs Robs-your-son (driving down a coast hi-way in a convertible MGB )
And here's to you, Mothers Brule,
The Brit's love you more than you can know.
God bless you, please Mothers Brule.
Heaven holds a place for those who pray you go away,
Hey Hey Hey
They'd like to know a ton about your lies
They'd like to help you learn to help yourself.
Look around you all you see are sympathetic eyes,
Stroll around England's grounds until you feel at home.
And here's to you, Mothers Brule,
The Brit's loves you more than you will know.
God bless you, please, Mothers Brule.
Heaven holds a place for those who pray you go away.
Hey Hey Hey
Hiding lies in a hiding place the American's will never know.
Put them in your panties with your cupcakes.
It's no secret everyone knows about your affair.
Most of all you've got to hide it from the Brit's.
Sitting at the computer on a Sunday afternoon.
Going to Alaska for a date.
Laugh about it, shout about it
One day you'll have to choose
Every way you look at this you lose.
Where have you gone, Dan the cat killer,
Our nation turns it's lonely eyes to you.
What's that you say, Mothers Brule.
Cat killing Dan has left and gone away,
Hey Hey Hey.
Charles of New York ran his " Unfair and Unbalanced" room last evening with the skill of a Ginsu waving Japanese chef. Buck, (our new best buddy) tried to pick a fight with anyone who would have him, the trouble was, no one would have him. Not one person took his wiggly worm bait, so he retired to the corner to lick his wounds (We hope it was his wounds, Please, let it be his wounds). Jannhere questioned Swan Songstress on the art of condom application, without the use of hands. We were quite interested in this topic, since as you know, we are without opposable thumbs. Swan will be giving a lecture next week on the subject of condoms and tongues, so be sure to drop by "Condoms can be condiments too", it should be a protected, but sticky lecture. Lord Merciful Voo, left VooVille, for a visit to the land of cheerful chatters. He cackled, as he perched himself center stage, to insult many, and defend the abuse in his room. He then parked his name at the bottom of the list, and waddled back home. It would be easier and a damn less painful, if he had just tucked flyers into everyone hands inviting them to his room. I guess Cindy Lou (Karl d-Az) had his panties in a wad, and needed his brain back. Mainstream room has been dropping in numbers, or Voo wouldn't have stuck his nose out of his cage to campaign for more pigeons.
Some (Luminol) have written regarding the lack of Voo sightings by The Tattler. The answer is simple. The Dali Lama himself couldn't tolerate that room for more than ten minutes. Their needle is stuck, and listening to their endless prattle about the poor (get off your ass and help them) the hungry (sell your computer and feed them) the unemployed (well, you can't give up for others, what you don't have yourself, so at least you can empathize on this one), the rich (you'd be rich too, if you did an honest day's work), the democrats (someone had to vote for Kerry), the Republicans (see "the rich"), could drive a whore to decency.
The Happy Hour was not so happy when Mothers Brule showed up to charge Andrea 2-U with threatening her. The alleged threat was Andrea offering to put a hat on and bounce Mothers for her insanity. Mothers, a head's up for you. When Andrea really does threaten you, you'll shit yourself like a goose gobbling laxative lover". Osinia, direct from Ireland and a pub, dropped by to say ---I've somethin' to tell ye. I'm ere to be tellin' ye. For the love o' Jaysus, this has to be the worst room I've been vistin'. What do ye be meanin'. Is that so? I can be takin' a round outta ya, don't be startin a fight with me, ya know. She was booted for making the room participants smash shamrocks into leprechauns wee faces.
Goast ran an exciting room today. Much of the time was spent discussing Mr. Enigma, and the Enigmaites. Jungle Bungle hates the man, Stefhaj respects him, Diogenic called him a wind bag (bringggg bringggggg Kettle, you're black), but the final consensus was most enjoyed him, and viewed him as a wealth of knowledge. The topic turned to riots and racism, thanks to KevinBritish. He took a well deserved tongue lashing from Jacqui_2, but sadly she was followed by metamagnet, who had a need to give a Miss American world peace speech. It was about as exciting as counting turds in the Ganges. To break the monotony prefixed said, " I watched the game today, but quite frankly, they are too fat, and quite frankly it was not a good game, quite frankly, I went shopping, but quite frankly it's not good to be honest but quite frankly I didn't do much." (see Ganges for boring).
Rob517: PLEASE CAN WE HAVE AN ADULT GROWN UP CONVERSATION (that whole pot kettle thing, again )
Social Issues Ten Commandments
1) There, their and they're really are three different words. Same applies for: two , to , too---your, you're. Look them up and use them correctly.
2) Leave old arguments at the door. No one wants to listen to your personal, petty, peeves.
3) If you take the mic, have a point. Blathering is not a sport.
4) Three hours on mic, really is too long. After three minutes you have lost your audience, if you ever had them.
5) Screaming does not make your opinion fact, and fact is not anecdotal evidence. No one cares what your Aunt Fanny was told by Tibetan monks in Moscow.
6) Laughing at your own joke, is comparable to chewing off your own nuts.
7) Some people are not funny. If no one laughs, you are one of them. Examples Alfie (not funny) Iliad (hysterical )
8) If you shoot somebody, don't whine when you're picking buckshot out of your ass.
9) People who frequent your rooms are not slaves. Give them a mule and ten acres and let them go free.
10) Admins are not babysitters. If you can't control yourself, piss off.
Idiot of the day --- The Brit's (be careful what you ask for )
Admin of the day --- Goast
Nice person of the day --- The Brit's (all is forgiven for that taxation without representation thing)
Quote of the day ----TornsCatWasDelicious: My favorite enigma quote ............."It's like listening to a voice coming from a corpse that's been rotting in a grave for decades"
2nd Quote of the day --- Menopausal and Armed: phyliss, how be you kiss my ass, how would that be ?
Mailbag:
Dear Dummy:
For months, in your pathetic and verbose monologues, you have consistently exposed that horrid shut-in of a succubus known as Starliar. But here's where you lose Lumi. You, at the same time, have heaped praises upon people such as crapfisherman. Do you not realize, Madame, that this little suck-up and others of his ilk -- by regular attendance in the bitch's cesspool of a room -- support and thus enable the aforementioned wretch? And speaking of supporting this shut-in, not only do you seem to live in her room yourself, you constantly inflate her ego by giving her the attention she feeds off, like a leech on a hemophiliac. If she weren't semi-literate, I would think the Tattler to be Starliar.
-- LUMINOL
The Tattler: You can think ?
posted by Eye Witness at 3:10 AM
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