Re: When People Ask

Discussion in 'Computer Support' started by Aardvark, Sep 21, 2008.

  1. Aardvark

    Aardvark Guest

    On Sun, 21 Sep 2008 05:44:31 +0000, % wrote:

    > Troia wrote:
    >> Rebecca Jo wrote:
    >>> When people ask "how's it going?" I ALWAYS lie and say it's pretty
    >>> good. Even when it's family or friends. Because what am I going to
    >>> complain about? What do I have to complain about? I feel like crap.
    >>> Boohoo.

    >>
    >> I've been in a scrap with my daughter's BF because he asked, I said
    >> "Tired" (I was) and he comes from this background where he expects
    >> pleasantries, whereas I always answer honestly (but not in whining
    >> detail) so he apparently thought I was being "rude".
    >>
    >> Nonetheless, I intend to go on answering honestly (but not in whining
    >> detail when things are not "fine".)
    >>
    >> IMO it's not necessary to present it as a complaint, answering
    >> honestly.

    >
    >
    > all men are bad



    Except for the good ones, of course.


    --
    Liverpool. European City Of Culture 2008
    http://www.liverpool08.com
    Aardvark, Sep 21, 2008
    #1
    1. Advertising

  2. Aardvark <> wrote in
    news:7ctBk.75535$2:

    > On Sun, 21 Sep 2008 05:44:31 +0000, % wrote:
    >
    >> Troia wrote:
    >>> Rebecca Jo wrote:
    >>>
    >>>> When people ask "how's it going?" I ALWAYS lie and say it's pretty
    >>>> good. Even when it's family or friends. Because what am I going to
    >>>> complain about? What do I have to complain about? I feel like crap.
    >>>> Boohoo.
    >>>
    >>> I've been in a scrap with my daughter's BF because he asked, I said
    >>> "Tired" (I was) and he comes from this background where he expects
    >>> pleasantries, whereas I always answer honestly (but not in whining
    >>> detail) so he apparently thought I was being "rude".
    >>>
    >>> Nonetheless, I intend to go on answering honestly (but not in whining
    >>> detail when things are not "fine".)
    >>>
    >>> IMO it's not necessary to present it as a complaint, answering
    >>> honestly.

    >>
    >> all men are bad

    >
    > Except for the good ones, of course.



    But when we are bad, we are really *very* *good* at it!

    For instance, can someone actually dream about having a dream in which one is
    having yet another dream, and so on? I ponder this because this actually
    happened to me :

    So, here I am totally immersed in a huge, possibly Olympic sized, pool of
    titties. Every inch of my naked body has perky-nippled-titties pressed
    against it. One was even in my nostril. Only for a moment did I even think
    that it might be a booger, but did not pick it because instantly I realized
    "whoaaaaaahh, that's a titty perky nipple stuck in my nose" and I meandered
    back into my cushy-soft-and-warm cacoon of sweet titty flesh suspending me
    weightless like floating on a fluffy cloud in the sky - made entirely out of
    perky-nippled-titties.

    Suddenly, I hear in the faint distance an intermittent banging. At first,
    way distant... but seemingly growing louder, closer, and more urgent. I
    apparently awake, and backstroke, porpoise, and wriggle out of my embracing
    cacoon of titties, and wander through the mist into my living room and
    there's this little kid banging on the window with both hands now.

    I open the front door where I see the early AM newspaper on the doormat, pick
    it up, and throw it at the little kid, hitting him solidly on the side of the
    head, and I shout "How many times have I told you NOT to bang on my windows,
    you little bastard... The housekeeper gives me all kinds of shit about
    having to clean your greasy little paw-prints off the glass, and inexpensive
    Guatemalan help it getting very hard to come-by in this hostile political
    environment! (As it stands, I have to regularly threaten to call INS and
    have her ass deported to keep her coming to work... I'm such a sucker for her
    pleas, "Oh please, Masta Bucky, don't deport me or my babies will starve to
    death..." so I ignore her complaining as long as those windows get back to
    spotless.)

    The little boy is jumping up and down hysterically now, and screams, "You
    gotta come help us, Mister Bucky; my mommy is stuck in the hedges and can't
    get out... and the black bears are coming closer and closer down the hill;
    Please, oh please, come and save my mommy...!"

    Now, I'm nearly fully awake from my warm-firm-perky-nippled-titty-cacoon
    slumber, and I silently reflect "Oh, NOW I know who this is... His mom is
    that lady who is always out in the front yard with a garden hose watering her
    gardens wearing only a bikini no matter what time, day or night, winter or
    summer, rain or shine, when I come home, she's out there watering in a skimpy
    bikini. It's sort of strange, but she has really nice gardens...

    I say "Hang on just another minute kid, I'll throw on a robe and go check it
    out."

    As we arrive walking down the street, there she is, the kid's momma, standing
    there in the middle of a hedge with her trusty old garden hose running water
    all the while, and all that was visable was her from the waist up wearing
    only a skimpy bikini top with her firm, ample breasts bulging out all over.

    I exclaim "My God, woman... can't you teach your fucking kid not to be
    banging on my window? How many times have I told you? It is so simple, just
    show what a doorbell is, what is does, and how to use it! If Carmalitta
    quits over the greasy-kid stains on my windows I'm going to sue your ass into
    the poor house..." A dramatic pause occurs here. I continue "HMMM, or I
    could simply leave you here for the bears to eat, and then your little rug-
    rat can go to the orphanage and weave pot-holders for his keep! That'd shoot
    down all your dreams of Harvard and being a doctor's mother, now wouldn't
    it?"

    The kid and its mamma both are crying and screaming hysterically at this
    point, and there's a group of black bears, mamma bear, one two year old and
    a pair of yearling twins standing on their hindlegs and waving their cute
    little hand in the air making the bear growls and then advancing closer to
    the main house, and then repeating the same behavior... I'm guessing they
    sense a meal here, because who wouldn't want to eat the lady in a bikini with
    the running water hose, ehh?

    I say "OK! Let's see what we can do to get you out of there now, before the
    neighbors wake up to check on the commotion... Can you make that kid shut up
    before I have to knock it out for its own good?"

    The woman screams "Shut up, Mortimer! Please just shut up. It's going to be
    OK."

    I walk around to the inside of the hedgeline, and carefully reach in and
    separate the pointed holly hedge branches and say "OK, I think I've got cha
    all cleared up now... try to come on out."

    She steps backwards one step, and the first thing I notice as she's gingerly
    backing out for the second backwards step is that she's covered with very
    deep scratches. Then at the second step, I am alarmed to see that she is
    wearing NO bikini bottom! And her firm ample buttocks are covered with deep
    scratches as well as her thighs and her calves...

    She steps free of the bushes and abruptly turns around to face me when I am
    doubly alarmed to see that she has one of those Hitler-moustache pubic hair
    mounds adorning her happy place - and a vertical hyterectomy scar which runs
    from the top of her pubic hairline almost to her belly button's six-pack
    abdomen.

    Yewwchhhhh! Hysterectomy scar...

    She says "Oh thanks, Bucky! Would you like to come in for some coffee?"

    I respond "That's 'Mr. Breeder' to you, Neighbor-bitch, and if you don't stop
    that kid from banging on my window, there's going to be hell to pay, and
    you'll be working off the bounced check in the sugar-beet fields!"

    She laughs like she KNOWS her coochie is tighter than one of those Chinese
    finger-lock party-favor thangys...

    I say "Thanks for the offer of coffee, but I've some beauty sleep to catch up
    on... Hey, crank your stereo really loud to scare off those bears... They
    really hate ZZ Top!"

    She said "Good night, Bucky... whoops, I mean good morning don't I?"

    I said "Next time wear your pants or you'll catch cold."

    She said as she demurely raised her hand to cover her lower face, as if
    embarassed now, "Oh, those; they are stuck over in the bushes where they came
    off as I tried to free myself... I'll find them later."

    The she turned and waddled those tight-buttocks up the entry stairs...

    I shook my head, a la Lewis Black's routine, and headed back for my warm,
    cushy, snuggle-sleepy-dreamy-stasis, which I so hoped I could recover now.

    As I re-entered my home via the front door, I dropped my robe as I passed
    through the foyer and started to ascend the stairway to my bedroom suite...
    but I noticed what were apparently uniforms strewn everywhere... on the
    floor, on the guiderails, over the backs of furniture... and pearly white
    silky underwear... and bras...

    Being back to a half-asleep state, I knew the alarms had not been activated,
    so I figured that I would eventually figure out the inconsistencies when I
    awakened sometime on the morrow, and proceeded into my sleeping quarters,
    naked, tired, and ready to catch some rest.

    As I threw back the sheets, my bed was covered with four sprawling naked
    females... And then I remembered I had tarried at the airport lounge for
    some relaxation and conversation where I had met some stewardesses whose
    flight back to Seattle had been delayed until further notice...

    "You bitches scoot over and make some room for me and Mr. Happy" I said as I
    wriggled into a cleared spot amongst the four beauties... I only called them
    "bitches" because at this point I couldn't recall all of their names.

    My last conscious thought as I drifted off into a blissful slumber amonst all
    that sweet-smelling flesh pressed against me was "Oh God, I hope I don't
    snore, or if I do, I hope they don't hear me."


    The moral of the story?

    Well, stay in school; study hard; eat right; don't abuse alcohol or drugs; by
    all means DO NOT smoke cigarettes or use nicotine; go to church regularly;
    love God above all else; and then, well, it all pretty much boils down to
    genetics and the Grace of God, so just deal with it and quit whining when you
    start to think things are not going like you would have them go if you were
    in charge of the universe. The universe is unfolding as it should, and
    pretty basically it's all good, so try to sit back and enjoy it because THESE
    *ARE* the "good old days"!

    REPNET - TEH EDN IS NAER... TEH EDN!

    --

    I *am* Bucky Breeder, (*(^; , and *I* approved this message!

    http://a-little-pussy-makes-me-happy.notlong.com/
    Bucky Breeder, Sep 21, 2008
    #2
    1. Advertising

  3. Aardvark

    % Guest

    Bucky Breeder wrote:
    > Aardvark <> wrote in
    > news:7ctBk.75535$2:
    >
    >> On Sun, 21 Sep 2008 05:44:31 +0000, % wrote:
    >>
    >>> Troia wrote:
    >>>> Rebecca Jo wrote:
    >>>>
    >>>>> When people ask "how's it going?" I ALWAYS lie and say it's pretty
    >>>>> good. Even when it's family or friends. Because what am I going to
    >>>>> complain about? What do I have to complain about? I feel like
    >>>>> crap. Boohoo.
    >>>>
    >>>> I've been in a scrap with my daughter's BF because he asked, I said
    >>>> "Tired" (I was) and he comes from this background where he expects
    >>>> pleasantries, whereas I always answer honestly (but not in whining
    >>>> detail) so he apparently thought I was being "rude".
    >>>>
    >>>> Nonetheless, I intend to go on answering honestly (but not in
    >>>> whining detail when things are not "fine".)
    >>>>
    >>>> IMO it's not necessary to present it as a complaint, answering
    >>>> honestly.
    >>>
    >>> all men are bad

    >>
    >> Except for the good ones, of course.

    >
    >
    > But when we are bad, we are really *very* *good* at it!
    >
    > For instance, can someone actually dream about having a dream in
    > which one is having yet another dream, and so on? I ponder this
    > because this actually happened to me :
    >
    > So, here I am totally immersed in a huge, possibly Olympic sized,
    > pool of titties. Every inch of my naked body has
    > perky-nippled-titties pressed against it. One was even in my
    > nostril. Only for a moment did I even think that it might be a
    > booger, but did not pick it because instantly I realized
    > "whoaaaaaahh, that's a titty perky nipple stuck in my nose" and I
    > meandered back into my cushy-soft-and-warm cacoon of sweet titty
    > flesh suspending me weightless like floating on a fluffy cloud in the
    > sky - made entirely out of perky-nippled-titties.
    >
    > Suddenly, I hear in the faint distance an intermittent banging. At
    > first, way distant... but seemingly growing louder, closer, and more
    > urgent. I apparently awake, and backstroke, porpoise, and wriggle
    > out of my embracing cacoon of titties, and wander through the mist
    > into my living room and there's this little kid banging on the window
    > with both hands now.
    >
    > I open the front door where I see the early AM newspaper on the
    > doormat, pick it up, and throw it at the little kid, hitting him
    > solidly on the side of the head, and I shout "How many times have I
    > told you NOT to bang on my windows, you little bastard... The
    > housekeeper gives me all kinds of shit about having to clean your
    > greasy little paw-prints off the glass, and inexpensive Guatemalan
    > help it getting very hard to come-by in this hostile political
    > environment! (As it stands, I have to regularly threaten to call INS
    > and have her ass deported to keep her coming to work... I'm such a
    > sucker for her pleas, "Oh please, Masta Bucky, don't deport me or my
    > babies will starve to death..." so I ignore her complaining as long
    > as those windows get back to spotless.)
    >
    > The little boy is jumping up and down hysterically now, and screams,
    > "You gotta come help us, Mister Bucky; my mommy is stuck in the
    > hedges and can't get out... and the black bears are coming closer
    > and closer down the hill; Please, oh please, come and save my
    > mommy...!"
    >
    > Now, I'm nearly fully awake from my
    > warm-firm-perky-nippled-titty-cacoon slumber, and I silently reflect
    > "Oh, NOW I know who this is... His mom is that lady who is always
    > out in the front yard with a garden hose watering her gardens wearing
    > only a bikini no matter what time, day or night, winter or summer,
    > rain or shine, when I come home, she's out there watering in a skimpy
    > bikini. It's sort of strange, but she has really nice gardens...
    >
    > I say "Hang on just another minute kid, I'll throw on a robe and go
    > check it out."
    >
    > As we arrive walking down the street, there she is, the kid's momma,
    > standing there in the middle of a hedge with her trusty old garden
    > hose running water all the while, and all that was visable was her
    > from the waist up wearing only a skimpy bikini top with her firm,
    > ample breasts bulging out all over.
    >
    > I exclaim "My God, woman... can't you teach your fucking kid not to
    > be banging on my window? How many times have I told you? It is so
    > simple, just show what a doorbell is, what is does, and how to use
    > it! If Carmalitta quits over the greasy-kid stains on my windows I'm
    > going to sue your ass into the poor house..." A dramatic pause
    > occurs here. I continue "HMMM, or I could simply leave you here for
    > the bears to eat, and then your little rug- rat can go to the
    > orphanage and weave pot-holders for his keep! That'd shoot down all
    > your dreams of Harvard and being a doctor's mother, now wouldn't it?"
    >
    > The kid and its mamma both are crying and screaming hysterically at
    > this point, and there's a group of black bears, mamma bear, one two
    > year old and a pair of yearling twins standing on their hindlegs and
    > waving their cute little hand in the air making the bear growls and
    > then advancing closer to the main house, and then repeating the same
    > behavior... I'm guessing they sense a meal here, because who
    > wouldn't want to eat the lady in a bikini with the running water
    > hose, ehh?
    >
    > I say "OK! Let's see what we can do to get you out of there now,
    > before the neighbors wake up to check on the commotion... Can you
    > make that kid shut up before I have to knock it out for its own good?"
    >
    > The woman screams "Shut up, Mortimer! Please just shut up. It's
    > going to be OK."
    >
    > I walk around to the inside of the hedgeline, and carefully reach in
    > and separate the pointed holly hedge branches and say "OK, I think
    > I've got cha all cleared up now... try to come on out."
    >
    > She steps backwards one step, and the first thing I notice as she's
    > gingerly backing out for the second backwards step is that she's
    > covered with very deep scratches. Then at the second step, I am
    > alarmed to see that she is wearing NO bikini bottom! And her firm
    > ample buttocks are covered with deep scratches as well as her thighs
    > and her calves...
    >
    > She steps free of the bushes and abruptly turns around to face me
    > when I am doubly alarmed to see that she has one of those
    > Hitler-moustache pubic hair mounds adorning her happy place - and a
    > vertical hyterectomy scar which runs from the top of her pubic
    > hairline almost to her belly button's six-pack abdomen.
    >
    > Yewwchhhhh! Hysterectomy scar...
    >
    > She says "Oh thanks, Bucky! Would you like to come in for some
    > coffee?"
    >
    > I respond "That's 'Mr. Breeder' to you, Neighbor-bitch, and if you
    > don't stop that kid from banging on my window, there's going to be
    > hell to pay, and you'll be working off the bounced check in the
    > sugar-beet fields!"
    >
    > She laughs like she KNOWS her coochie is tighter than one of those
    > Chinese finger-lock party-favor thangys...
    >
    > I say "Thanks for the offer of coffee, but I've some beauty sleep to
    > catch up on... Hey, crank your stereo really loud to scare off those
    > bears... They really hate ZZ Top!"
    >
    > She said "Good night, Bucky... whoops, I mean good morning don't I?"
    >
    > I said "Next time wear your pants or you'll catch cold."
    >
    > She said as she demurely raised her hand to cover her lower face, as
    > if embarassed now, "Oh, those; they are stuck over in the bushes
    > where they came off as I tried to free myself... I'll find them
    > later."
    >
    > The she turned and waddled those tight-buttocks up the entry stairs...
    >
    > I shook my head, a la Lewis Black's routine, and headed back for my
    > warm, cushy, snuggle-sleepy-dreamy-stasis, which I so hoped I could
    > recover now.
    >
    > As I re-entered my home via the front door, I dropped my robe as I
    > passed through the foyer and started to ascend the stairway to my
    > bedroom suite... but I noticed what were apparently uniforms strewn
    > everywhere... on the floor, on the guiderails, over the backs of
    > furniture... and pearly white silky underwear... and bras...
    >
    > Being back to a half-asleep state, I knew the alarms had not been
    > activated, so I figured that I would eventually figure out the
    > inconsistencies when I awakened sometime on the morrow, and proceeded
    > into my sleeping quarters, naked, tired, and ready to catch some rest.
    >
    > As I threw back the sheets, my bed was covered with four sprawling
    > naked females... And then I remembered I had tarried at the airport
    > lounge for some relaxation and conversation where I had met some
    > stewardesses whose flight back to Seattle had been delayed until
    > further notice...
    >
    > "You bitches scoot over and make some room for me and Mr. Happy" I
    > said as I wriggled into a cleared spot amongst the four beauties...
    > I only called them "bitches" because at this point I couldn't recall
    > all of their names.
    >
    > My last conscious thought as I drifted off into a blissful slumber
    > amonst all that sweet-smelling flesh pressed against me was "Oh God,
    > I hope I don't snore, or if I do, I hope they don't hear me."
    >
    >
    > The moral of the story?
    >
    > Well, stay in school; study hard; eat right; don't abuse alcohol or
    > drugs; by all means DO NOT smoke cigarettes or use nicotine; go to
    > church regularly; love God above all else; and then, well, it all
    > pretty much boils down to genetics and the Grace of God, so just deal
    > with it and quit whining when you start to think things are not going
    > like you would have them go if you were in charge of the universe.
    > The universe is unfolding as it should, and pretty basically it's all
    > good, so try to sit back and enjoy it because THESE *ARE* the "good
    > old days"!
    >
    > REPNET - TEH EDN IS NAER... TEH EDN!



    can you spot the plagiarism in this reply
    %, Sep 21, 2008
    #3
  4. "%" <> wrote in news:YEuBk.998$T65.438@edtnps82:

    > Bucky Breeder wrote:
    >> Aardvark <> wrote in
    >> news:7ctBk.75535$2:
    >>
    >>> On Sun, 21 Sep 2008 05:44:31 +0000, % wrote:
    >>>
    >>>> Troia wrote:
    >>>>> Rebecca Jo wrote:
    >>>>>
    >>>>>> When people ask "how's it going?" I ALWAYS lie and say it's pretty
    >>>>>> good. Even when it's family or friends. Because what am I going to
    >>>>>> complain about? What do I have to complain about? I feel like
    >>>>>> crap. Boohoo.
    >>>>>
    >>>>> I've been in a scrap with my daughter's BF because he asked, I said
    >>>>> "Tired" (I was) and he comes from this background where he expects
    >>>>> pleasantries, whereas I always answer honestly (but not in whining
    >>>>> detail) so he apparently thought I was being "rude".
    >>>>>
    >>>>> Nonetheless, I intend to go on answering honestly (but not in
    >>>>> whining detail when things are not "fine".)
    >>>>>
    >>>>> IMO it's not necessary to present it as a complaint, answering
    >>>>> honestly.
    >>>>
    >>>> all men are bad
    >>>
    >>> Except for the good ones, of course.

    >>
    >>
    >> But when we are bad, we are really *very* *good* at it!
    >>
    >> For instance, can someone actually dream about having a dream in
    >> which one is having yet another dream, and so on? I ponder this
    >> because this actually happened to me :
    >>
    >> So, here I am totally immersed in a huge, possibly Olympic sized,
    >> pool of titties. Every inch of my naked body has
    >> perky-nippled-titties pressed against it. One was even in my
    >> nostril. Only for a moment did I even think that it might be a
    >> booger, but did not pick it because instantly I realized
    >> "whoaaaaaahh, that's a titty perky nipple stuck in my nose" and I
    >> meandered back into my cushy-soft-and-warm cacoon of sweet titty
    >> flesh suspending me weightless like floating on a fluffy cloud in the
    >> sky - made entirely out of perky-nippled-titties.
    >>
    >> Suddenly, I hear in the faint distance an intermittent banging. At
    >> first, way distant... but seemingly growing louder, closer, and more
    >> urgent. I apparently awake, and backstroke, porpoise, and wriggle
    >> out of my embracing cacoon of titties, and wander through the mist
    >> into my living room and there's this little kid banging on the window
    >> with both hands now.
    >>
    >> I open the front door where I see the early AM newspaper on the
    >> doormat, pick it up, and throw it at the little kid, hitting him
    >> solidly on the side of the head, and I shout "How many times have I
    >> told you NOT to bang on my windows, you little bastard... The
    >> housekeeper gives me all kinds of shit about having to clean your
    >> greasy little paw-prints off the glass, and inexpensive Guatemalan
    >> help it getting very hard to come-by in this hostile political
    >> environment! (As it stands, I have to regularly threaten to call INS
    >> and have her ass deported to keep her coming to work... I'm such a
    >> sucker for her pleas, "Oh please, Masta Bucky, don't deport me or my
    >> babies will starve to death..." so I ignore her complaining as long
    >> as those windows get back to spotless.)
    >>
    >> The little boy is jumping up and down hysterically now, and screams,
    >> "You gotta come help us, Mister Bucky; my mommy is stuck in the
    >> hedges and can't get out... and the black bears are coming closer
    >> and closer down the hill; Please, oh please, come and save my
    >> mommy...!"
    >>
    >> Now, I'm nearly fully awake from my
    >> warm-firm-perky-nippled-titty-cacoon slumber, and I silently reflect
    >> "Oh, NOW I know who this is... His mom is that lady who is always
    >> out in the front yard with a garden hose watering her gardens wearing
    >> only a bikini no matter what time, day or night, winter or summer,
    >> rain or shine, when I come home, she's out there watering in a skimpy
    >> bikini. It's sort of strange, but she has really nice gardens...
    >>
    >> I say "Hang on just another minute kid, I'll throw on a robe and go
    >> check it out."
    >>
    >> As we arrive walking down the street, there she is, the kid's momma,
    >> standing there in the middle of a hedge with her trusty old garden
    >> hose running water all the while, and all that was visable was her
    >> from the waist up wearing only a skimpy bikini top with her firm,
    >> ample breasts bulging out all over.
    >>
    >> I exclaim "My God, woman... can't you teach your fucking kid not to
    >> be banging on my window? How many times have I told you? It is so
    >> simple, just show what a doorbell is, what is does, and how to use
    >> it! If Carmalitta quits over the greasy-kid stains on my windows I'm
    >> going to sue your ass into the poor house..." A dramatic pause
    >> occurs here. I continue "HMMM, or I could simply leave you here for
    >> the bears to eat, and then your little rug- rat can go to the
    >> orphanage and weave pot-holders for his keep! That'd shoot down all
    >> your dreams of Harvard and being a doctor's mother, now wouldn't it?"
    >>
    >> The kid and its mamma both are crying and screaming hysterically at
    >> this point, and there's a group of black bears, mamma bear, one two
    >> year old and a pair of yearling twins standing on their hindlegs and
    >> waving their cute little hand in the air making the bear growls and
    >> then advancing closer to the main house, and then repeating the same
    >> behavior... I'm guessing they sense a meal here, because who
    >> wouldn't want to eat the lady in a bikini with the running water
    >> hose, ehh?
    >>
    >> I say "OK! Let's see what we can do to get you out of there now,
    >> before the neighbors wake up to check on the commotion... Can you
    >> make that kid shut up before I have to knock it out for its own good?"
    >>
    >> The woman screams "Shut up, Mortimer! Please just shut up. It's
    >> going to be OK."
    >>
    >> I walk around to the inside of the hedgeline, and carefully reach in
    >> and separate the pointed holly hedge branches and say "OK, I think
    >> I've got cha all cleared up now... try to come on out."
    >>
    >> She steps backwards one step, and the first thing I notice as she's
    >> gingerly backing out for the second backwards step is that she's
    >> covered with very deep scratches. Then at the second step, I am
    >> alarmed to see that she is wearing NO bikini bottom! And her firm
    >> ample buttocks are covered with deep scratches as well as her thighs
    >> and her calves...
    >>
    >> She steps free of the bushes and abruptly turns around to face me
    >> when I am doubly alarmed to see that she has one of those
    >> Hitler-moustache pubic hair mounds adorning her happy place - and a
    >> vertical hyterectomy scar which runs from the top of her pubic
    >> hairline almost to her belly button's six-pack abdomen.
    >>
    >> Yewwchhhhh! Hysterectomy scar...
    >>
    >> She says "Oh thanks, Bucky! Would you like to come in for some
    >> coffee?"
    >>
    >> I respond "That's 'Mr. Breeder' to you, Neighbor-bitch, and if you
    >> don't stop that kid from banging on my window, there's going to be
    >> hell to pay, and you'll be working off the bounced check in the
    >> sugar-beet fields!"
    >>
    >> She laughs like she KNOWS her coochie is tighter than one of those
    >> Chinese finger-lock party-favor thangys...
    >>
    >> I say "Thanks for the offer of coffee, but I've some beauty sleep to
    >> catch up on... Hey, crank your stereo really loud to scare off those
    >> bears... They really hate ZZ Top!"
    >>
    >> She said "Good night, Bucky... whoops, I mean good morning don't I?"
    >>
    >> I said "Next time wear your pants or you'll catch cold."
    >>
    >> She said as she demurely raised her hand to cover her lower face, as
    >> if embarassed now, "Oh, those; they are stuck over in the bushes
    >> where they came off as I tried to free myself... I'll find them
    >> later."
    >>
    >> The she turned and waddled those tight-buttocks up the entry stairs...
    >>
    >> I shook my head, a la Lewis Black's routine, and headed back for my
    >> warm, cushy, snuggle-sleepy-dreamy-stasis, which I so hoped I could
    >> recover now.
    >>
    >> As I re-entered my home via the front door, I dropped my robe as I
    >> passed through the foyer and started to ascend the stairway to my
    >> bedroom suite... but I noticed what were apparently uniforms strewn
    >> everywhere... on the floor, on the guiderails, over the backs of
    >> furniture... and pearly white silky underwear... and bras...
    >>
    >> Being back to a half-asleep state, I knew the alarms had not been
    >> activated, so I figured that I would eventually figure out the
    >> inconsistencies when I awakened sometime on the morrow, and proceeded
    >> into my sleeping quarters, naked, tired, and ready to catch some rest.
    >>
    >> As I threw back the sheets, my bed was covered with four sprawling
    >> naked females... And then I remembered I had tarried at the airport
    >> lounge for some relaxation and conversation where I had met some
    >> stewardesses whose flight back to Seattle had been delayed until
    >> further notice...
    >>
    >> "You bitches scoot over and make some room for me and Mr. Happy" I
    >> said as I wriggled into a cleared spot amongst the four beauties...
    >> I only called them "bitches" because at this point I couldn't recall
    >> all of their names.
    >>
    >> My last conscious thought as I drifted off into a blissful slumber
    >> amonst all that sweet-smelling flesh pressed against me was "Oh God,
    >> I hope I don't snore, or if I do, I hope they don't hear me."
    >>
    >>
    >> The moral of the story?
    >>
    >> Well, stay in school; study hard; eat right; don't abuse alcohol or
    >> drugs; by all means DO NOT smoke cigarettes or use nicotine; go to
    >> church regularly; love God above all else; and then, well, it all
    >> pretty much boils down to genetics and the Grace of God, so just deal
    >> with it and quit whining when you start to think things are not going
    >> like you would have them go if you were in charge of the universe.
    >> The universe is unfolding as it should, and pretty basically it's all
    >> good, so try to sit back and enjoy it because THESE *ARE* the "good
    >> old days"!
    >>
    >> REPNET - TEH EDN IS NAER... TEH EDN!

    >
    >
    > can you spot the plagiarism in this reply


    You've spelt it correctly in your reply...

    and I have a dated header-set in my post...

    So, I don't know what you are insinuating, but if you are being deliberatly
    bad, that can only bring its own rewards.

    HTH

    --

    I *am* Bucky Breeder, (*(^; , and *I* approved this message!

    http://a-little-pussy-makes-me-happy.notlong.com/
    Bucky Breeder, Sep 21, 2008
    #4
  5. Aardvark

    % Guest

    Bucky Breeder wrote:
    > "%" <> wrote in news:YEuBk.998$T65.438@edtnps82:
    >
    >> Bucky Breeder wrote:
    >>> Aardvark <> wrote in
    >>> news:7ctBk.75535$2:
    >>>
    >>>> On Sun, 21 Sep 2008 05:44:31 +0000, % wrote:
    >>>>
    >>>>> Troia wrote:
    >>>>>> Rebecca Jo wrote:
    >>>>>>
    >>>>>>> When people ask "how's it going?" I ALWAYS lie and say it's
    >>>>>>> pretty good. Even when it's family or friends. Because what am
    >>>>>>> I going to complain about? What do I have to complain about? I
    >>>>>>> feel like crap. Boohoo.
    >>>>>>
    >>>>>> I've been in a scrap with my daughter's BF because he asked, I
    >>>>>> said "Tired" (I was) and he comes from this background where he
    >>>>>> expects pleasantries, whereas I always answer honestly (but not
    >>>>>> in whining detail) so he apparently thought I was being "rude".
    >>>>>>
    >>>>>> Nonetheless, I intend to go on answering honestly (but not in
    >>>>>> whining detail when things are not "fine".)
    >>>>>>
    >>>>>> IMO it's not necessary to present it as a complaint, answering
    >>>>>> honestly.
    >>>>>
    >>>>> all men are bad
    >>>>
    >>>> Except for the good ones, of course.
    >>>
    >>>
    >>> But when we are bad, we are really *very* *good* at it!
    >>>
    >>> For instance, can someone actually dream about having a dream in
    >>> which one is having yet another dream, and so on? I ponder this
    >>> because this actually happened to me :
    >>>
    >>> So, here I am totally immersed in a huge, possibly Olympic sized,
    >>> pool of titties. Every inch of my naked body has
    >>> perky-nippled-titties pressed against it. One was even in my
    >>> nostril. Only for a moment did I even think that it might be a
    >>> booger, but did not pick it because instantly I realized
    >>> "whoaaaaaahh, that's a titty perky nipple stuck in my nose" and I
    >>> meandered back into my cushy-soft-and-warm cacoon of sweet titty
    >>> flesh suspending me weightless like floating on a fluffy cloud in
    >>> the sky - made entirely out of perky-nippled-titties.
    >>>
    >>> Suddenly, I hear in the faint distance an intermittent banging. At
    >>> first, way distant... but seemingly growing louder, closer, and more
    >>> urgent. I apparently awake, and backstroke, porpoise, and wriggle
    >>> out of my embracing cacoon of titties, and wander through the mist
    >>> into my living room and there's this little kid banging on the
    >>> window with both hands now.
    >>>
    >>> I open the front door where I see the early AM newspaper on the
    >>> doormat, pick it up, and throw it at the little kid, hitting him
    >>> solidly on the side of the head, and I shout "How many times have I
    >>> told you NOT to bang on my windows, you little bastard... The
    >>> housekeeper gives me all kinds of shit about having to clean your
    >>> greasy little paw-prints off the glass, and inexpensive Guatemalan
    >>> help it getting very hard to come-by in this hostile political
    >>> environment! (As it stands, I have to regularly threaten to call
    >>> INS and have her ass deported to keep her coming to work... I'm
    >>> such a sucker for her pleas, "Oh please, Masta Bucky, don't deport
    >>> me or my babies will starve to death..." so I ignore her
    >>> complaining as long as those windows get back to spotless.)
    >>>
    >>> The little boy is jumping up and down hysterically now, and screams,
    >>> "You gotta come help us, Mister Bucky; my mommy is stuck in the
    >>> hedges and can't get out... and the black bears are coming closer
    >>> and closer down the hill; Please, oh please, come and save my
    >>> mommy...!"
    >>>
    >>> Now, I'm nearly fully awake from my
    >>> warm-firm-perky-nippled-titty-cacoon slumber, and I silently reflect
    >>> "Oh, NOW I know who this is... His mom is that lady who is always
    >>> out in the front yard with a garden hose watering her gardens
    >>> wearing only a bikini no matter what time, day or night, winter or
    >>> summer, rain or shine, when I come home, she's out there watering
    >>> in a skimpy bikini. It's sort of strange, but she has really nice
    >>> gardens...
    >>>
    >>> I say "Hang on just another minute kid, I'll throw on a robe and go
    >>> check it out."
    >>>
    >>> As we arrive walking down the street, there she is, the kid's momma,
    >>> standing there in the middle of a hedge with her trusty old garden
    >>> hose running water all the while, and all that was visable was her
    >>> from the waist up wearing only a skimpy bikini top with her firm,
    >>> ample breasts bulging out all over.
    >>>
    >>> I exclaim "My God, woman... can't you teach your fucking kid not to
    >>> be banging on my window? How many times have I told you? It is so
    >>> simple, just show what a doorbell is, what is does, and how to use
    >>> it! If Carmalitta quits over the greasy-kid stains on my windows
    >>> I'm going to sue your ass into the poor house..." A dramatic pause
    >>> occurs here. I continue "HMMM, or I could simply leave you here for
    >>> the bears to eat, and then your little rug- rat can go to the
    >>> orphanage and weave pot-holders for his keep! That'd shoot down all
    >>> your dreams of Harvard and being a doctor's mother, now wouldn't
    >>> it?"
    >>>
    >>> The kid and its mamma both are crying and screaming hysterically at
    >>> this point, and there's a group of black bears, mamma bear, one two
    >>> year old and a pair of yearling twins standing on their hindlegs and
    >>> waving their cute little hand in the air making the bear growls and
    >>> then advancing closer to the main house, and then repeating the same
    >>> behavior... I'm guessing they sense a meal here, because who
    >>> wouldn't want to eat the lady in a bikini with the running water
    >>> hose, ehh?
    >>>
    >>> I say "OK! Let's see what we can do to get you out of there now,
    >>> before the neighbors wake up to check on the commotion... Can you
    >>> make that kid shut up before I have to knock it out for its own
    >>> good?"
    >>>
    >>> The woman screams "Shut up, Mortimer! Please just shut up. It's
    >>> going to be OK."
    >>>
    >>> I walk around to the inside of the hedgeline, and carefully reach in
    >>> and separate the pointed holly hedge branches and say "OK, I think
    >>> I've got cha all cleared up now... try to come on out."
    >>>
    >>> She steps backwards one step, and the first thing I notice as she's
    >>> gingerly backing out for the second backwards step is that she's
    >>> covered with very deep scratches. Then at the second step, I am
    >>> alarmed to see that she is wearing NO bikini bottom! And her firm
    >>> ample buttocks are covered with deep scratches as well as her thighs
    >>> and her calves...
    >>>
    >>> She steps free of the bushes and abruptly turns around to face me
    >>> when I am doubly alarmed to see that she has one of those
    >>> Hitler-moustache pubic hair mounds adorning her happy place - and a
    >>> vertical hyterectomy scar which runs from the top of her pubic
    >>> hairline almost to her belly button's six-pack abdomen.
    >>>
    >>> Yewwchhhhh! Hysterectomy scar...
    >>>
    >>> She says "Oh thanks, Bucky! Would you like to come in for some
    >>> coffee?"
    >>>
    >>> I respond "That's 'Mr. Breeder' to you, Neighbor-bitch, and if you
    >>> don't stop that kid from banging on my window, there's going to be
    >>> hell to pay, and you'll be working off the bounced check in the
    >>> sugar-beet fields!"
    >>>
    >>> She laughs like she KNOWS her coochie is tighter than one of those
    >>> Chinese finger-lock party-favor thangys...
    >>>
    >>> I say "Thanks for the offer of coffee, but I've some beauty sleep to
    >>> catch up on... Hey, crank your stereo really loud to scare off
    >>> those bears... They really hate ZZ Top!"
    >>>
    >>> She said "Good night, Bucky... whoops, I mean good morning don't I?"
    >>>
    >>> I said "Next time wear your pants or you'll catch cold."
    >>>
    >>> She said as she demurely raised her hand to cover her lower face, as
    >>> if embarassed now, "Oh, those; they are stuck over in the bushes
    >>> where they came off as I tried to free myself... I'll find them
    >>> later."
    >>>
    >>> The she turned and waddled those tight-buttocks up the entry
    >>> stairs...
    >>>
    >>> I shook my head, a la Lewis Black's routine, and headed back for my
    >>> warm, cushy, snuggle-sleepy-dreamy-stasis, which I so hoped I could
    >>> recover now.
    >>>
    >>> As I re-entered my home via the front door, I dropped my robe as I
    >>> passed through the foyer and started to ascend the stairway to my
    >>> bedroom suite... but I noticed what were apparently uniforms strewn
    >>> everywhere... on the floor, on the guiderails, over the backs of
    >>> furniture... and pearly white silky underwear... and bras...
    >>>
    >>> Being back to a half-asleep state, I knew the alarms had not been
    >>> activated, so I figured that I would eventually figure out the
    >>> inconsistencies when I awakened sometime on the morrow, and
    >>> proceeded into my sleeping quarters, naked, tired, and ready to
    >>> catch some rest.
    >>>
    >>> As I threw back the sheets, my bed was covered with four sprawling
    >>> naked females... And then I remembered I had tarried at the airport
    >>> lounge for some relaxation and conversation where I had met some
    >>> stewardesses whose flight back to Seattle had been delayed until
    >>> further notice...
    >>>
    >>> "You bitches scoot over and make some room for me and Mr. Happy" I
    >>> said as I wriggled into a cleared spot amongst the four beauties...
    >>> I only called them "bitches" because at this point I couldn't recall
    >>> all of their names.
    >>>
    >>> My last conscious thought as I drifted off into a blissful slumber
    >>> amonst all that sweet-smelling flesh pressed against me was "Oh God,
    >>> I hope I don't snore, or if I do, I hope they don't hear me."
    >>>
    >>>
    >>> The moral of the story?
    >>>
    >>> Well, stay in school; study hard; eat right; don't abuse alcohol or
    >>> drugs; by all means DO NOT smoke cigarettes or use nicotine; go to
    >>> church regularly; love God above all else; and then, well, it all
    >>> pretty much boils down to genetics and the Grace of God, so just
    >>> deal with it and quit whining when you start to think things are
    >>> not going like you would have them go if you were in charge of the
    >>> universe. The universe is unfolding as it should, and pretty
    >>> basically it's all good, so try to sit back and enjoy it because
    >>> THESE *ARE* the "good old days"!
    >>>
    >>> REPNET - TEH EDN IS NAER... TEH EDN!

    >>
    >>
    >> can you spot the plagiarism in this reply

    >
    > You've spelt it correctly in your reply...
    >
    > and I have a dated header-set in my post...
    >
    > So, I don't know what you are insinuating, but if you are being
    > deliberatly bad, that can only bring its own rewards.
    >
    > HTH




    the last line below is what i was referring to

    You are a child of the universe,
    no less than the trees & the stars;
    you have a right to be here.
    And whether or not it is clear to you,
    no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
    %, Sep 21, 2008
    #5
  6. "%" <> wrote in news:GQuBk.1003$T65.368@edtnps82:

    > Bucky Breeder wrote:
    >> "%" <> wrote in news:YEuBk.998$T65.438@edtnps82:
    >>
    >>> Bucky Breeder wrote:
    >>>> Aardvark <> wrote in
    >>>> news:7ctBk.75535$2:
    >>>>
    >>>>> On Sun, 21 Sep 2008 05:44:31 +0000, % wrote:
    >>>>>
    >>>>>> Troia wrote:
    >>>>>>> Rebecca Jo wrote:
    >>>>>>>
    >>>>>>>> When people ask "how's it going?" I ALWAYS lie and say it's
    >>>>>>>> pretty good. Even when it's family or friends. Because what am
    >>>>>>>> I going to complain about? What do I have to complain about? I
    >>>>>>>> feel like crap. Boohoo.
    >>>>>>>
    >>>>>>> I've been in a scrap with my daughter's BF because he asked, I
    >>>>>>> said "Tired" (I was) and he comes from this background where he
    >>>>>>> expects pleasantries, whereas I always answer honestly (but not
    >>>>>>> in whining detail) so he apparently thought I was being "rude".
    >>>>>>>
    >>>>>>> Nonetheless, I intend to go on answering honestly (but not in
    >>>>>>> whining detail when things are not "fine".)
    >>>>>>>
    >>>>>>> IMO it's not necessary to present it as a complaint, answering
    >>>>>>> honestly.
    >>>>>>
    >>>>>> all men are bad
    >>>>>
    >>>>> Except for the good ones, of course.
    >>>>
    >>>>
    >>>> But when we are bad, we are really *very* *good* at it!
    >>>>
    >>>> For instance, can someone actually dream about having a dream in
    >>>> which one is having yet another dream, and so on? I ponder this
    >>>> because this actually happened to me :
    >>>>
    >>>> So, here I am totally immersed in a huge, possibly Olympic sized,
    >>>> pool of titties. Every inch of my naked body has
    >>>> perky-nippled-titties pressed against it. One was even in my
    >>>> nostril. Only for a moment did I even think that it might be a
    >>>> booger, but did not pick it because instantly I realized
    >>>> "whoaaaaaahh, that's a titty perky nipple stuck in my nose" and I
    >>>> meandered back into my cushy-soft-and-warm cacoon of sweet titty
    >>>> flesh suspending me weightless like floating on a fluffy cloud in
    >>>> the sky - made entirely out of perky-nippled-titties.
    >>>>
    >>>> Suddenly, I hear in the faint distance an intermittent banging. At
    >>>> first, way distant... but seemingly growing louder, closer, and more
    >>>> urgent. I apparently awake, and backstroke, porpoise, and wriggle
    >>>> out of my embracing cacoon of titties, and wander through the mist
    >>>> into my living room and there's this little kid banging on the
    >>>> window with both hands now.
    >>>>
    >>>> I open the front door where I see the early AM newspaper on the
    >>>> doormat, pick it up, and throw it at the little kid, hitting him
    >>>> solidly on the side of the head, and I shout "How many times have I
    >>>> told you NOT to bang on my windows, you little bastard... The
    >>>> housekeeper gives me all kinds of shit about having to clean your
    >>>> greasy little paw-prints off the glass, and inexpensive Guatemalan
    >>>> help it getting very hard to come-by in this hostile political
    >>>> environment! (As it stands, I have to regularly threaten to call
    >>>> INS and have her ass deported to keep her coming to work... I'm
    >>>> such a sucker for her pleas, "Oh please, Masta Bucky, don't deport
    >>>> me or my babies will starve to death..." so I ignore her
    >>>> complaining as long as those windows get back to spotless.)
    >>>>
    >>>> The little boy is jumping up and down hysterically now, and screams,
    >>>> "You gotta come help us, Mister Bucky; my mommy is stuck in the
    >>>> hedges and can't get out... and the black bears are coming closer
    >>>> and closer down the hill; Please, oh please, come and save my
    >>>> mommy...!"
    >>>>
    >>>> Now, I'm nearly fully awake from my
    >>>> warm-firm-perky-nippled-titty-cacoon slumber, and I silently reflect
    >>>> "Oh, NOW I know who this is... His mom is that lady who is always
    >>>> out in the front yard with a garden hose watering her gardens
    >>>> wearing only a bikini no matter what time, day or night, winter or
    >>>> summer, rain or shine, when I come home, she's out there watering
    >>>> in a skimpy bikini. It's sort of strange, but she has really nice
    >>>> gardens...
    >>>>
    >>>> I say "Hang on just another minute kid, I'll throw on a robe and go
    >>>> check it out."
    >>>>
    >>>> As we arrive walking down the street, there she is, the kid's momma,
    >>>> standing there in the middle of a hedge with her trusty old garden
    >>>> hose running water all the while, and all that was visable was her
    >>>> from the waist up wearing only a skimpy bikini top with her firm,
    >>>> ample breasts bulging out all over.
    >>>>
    >>>> I exclaim "My God, woman... can't you teach your fucking kid not to
    >>>> be banging on my window? How many times have I told you? It is so
    >>>> simple, just show what a doorbell is, what is does, and how to use
    >>>> it! If Carmalitta quits over the greasy-kid stains on my windows
    >>>> I'm going to sue your ass into the poor house..." A dramatic pause
    >>>> occurs here. I continue "HMMM, or I could simply leave you here for
    >>>> the bears to eat, and then your little rug- rat can go to the
    >>>> orphanage and weave pot-holders for his keep! That'd shoot down all
    >>>> your dreams of Harvard and being a doctor's mother, now wouldn't
    >>>> it?"
    >>>>
    >>>> The kid and its mamma both are crying and screaming hysterically at
    >>>> this point, and there's a group of black bears, mamma bear, one two
    >>>> year old and a pair of yearling twins standing on their hindlegs and
    >>>> waving their cute little hand in the air making the bear growls and
    >>>> then advancing closer to the main house, and then repeating the same
    >>>> behavior... I'm guessing they sense a meal here, because who
    >>>> wouldn't want to eat the lady in a bikini with the running water
    >>>> hose, ehh?
    >>>>
    >>>> I say "OK! Let's see what we can do to get you out of there now,
    >>>> before the neighbors wake up to check on the commotion... Can you
    >>>> make that kid shut up before I have to knock it out for its own
    >>>> good?"
    >>>>
    >>>> The woman screams "Shut up, Mortimer! Please just shut up. It's
    >>>> going to be OK."
    >>>>
    >>>> I walk around to the inside of the hedgeline, and carefully reach in
    >>>> and separate the pointed holly hedge branches and say "OK, I think
    >>>> I've got cha all cleared up now... try to come on out."
    >>>>
    >>>> She steps backwards one step, and the first thing I notice as she's
    >>>> gingerly backing out for the second backwards step is that she's
    >>>> covered with very deep scratches. Then at the second step, I am
    >>>> alarmed to see that she is wearing NO bikini bottom! And her firm
    >>>> ample buttocks are covered with deep scratches as well as her thighs
    >>>> and her calves...
    >>>>
    >>>> She steps free of the bushes and abruptly turns around to face me
    >>>> when I am doubly alarmed to see that she has one of those
    >>>> Hitler-moustache pubic hair mounds adorning her happy place - and a
    >>>> vertical hyterectomy scar which runs from the top of her pubic
    >>>> hairline almost to her belly button's six-pack abdomen.
    >>>>
    >>>> Yewwchhhhh! Hysterectomy scar...
    >>>>
    >>>> She says "Oh thanks, Bucky! Would you like to come in for some
    >>>> coffee?"
    >>>>
    >>>> I respond "That's 'Mr. Breeder' to you, Neighbor-bitch, and if you
    >>>> don't stop that kid from banging on my window, there's going to be
    >>>> hell to pay, and you'll be working off the bounced check in the
    >>>> sugar-beet fields!"
    >>>>
    >>>> She laughs like she KNOWS her coochie is tighter than one of those
    >>>> Chinese finger-lock party-favor thangys...
    >>>>
    >>>> I say "Thanks for the offer of coffee, but I've some beauty sleep to
    >>>> catch up on... Hey, crank your stereo really loud to scare off
    >>>> those bears... They really hate ZZ Top!"
    >>>>
    >>>> She said "Good night, Bucky... whoops, I mean good morning don't I?"
    >>>>
    >>>> I said "Next time wear your pants or you'll catch cold."
    >>>>
    >>>> She said as she demurely raised her hand to cover her lower face, as
    >>>> if embarassed now, "Oh, those; they are stuck over in the bushes
    >>>> where they came off as I tried to free myself... I'll find them
    >>>> later."
    >>>>
    >>>> The she turned and waddled those tight-buttocks up the entry
    >>>> stairs...
    >>>>
    >>>> I shook my head, a la Lewis Black's routine, and headed back for my
    >>>> warm, cushy, snuggle-sleepy-dreamy-stasis, which I so hoped I could
    >>>> recover now.
    >>>>
    >>>> As I re-entered my home via the front door, I dropped my robe as I
    >>>> passed through the foyer and started to ascend the stairway to my
    >>>> bedroom suite... but I noticed what were apparently uniforms strewn
    >>>> everywhere... on the floor, on the guiderails, over the backs of
    >>>> furniture... and pearly white silky underwear... and bras...
    >>>>
    >>>> Being back to a half-asleep state, I knew the alarms had not been
    >>>> activated, so I figured that I would eventually figure out the
    >>>> inconsistencies when I awakened sometime on the morrow, and
    >>>> proceeded into my sleeping quarters, naked, tired, and ready to
    >>>> catch some rest.
    >>>>
    >>>> As I threw back the sheets, my bed was covered with four sprawling
    >>>> naked females... And then I remembered I had tarried at the airport
    >>>> lounge for some relaxation and conversation where I had met some
    >>>> stewardesses whose flight back to Seattle had been delayed until
    >>>> further notice...
    >>>>
    >>>> "You bitches scoot over and make some room for me and Mr. Happy" I
    >>>> said as I wriggled into a cleared spot amongst the four beauties...
    >>>> I only called them "bitches" because at this point I couldn't recall
    >>>> all of their names.
    >>>>
    >>>> My last conscious thought as I drifted off into a blissful slumber
    >>>> amonst all that sweet-smelling flesh pressed against me was "Oh God,
    >>>> I hope I don't snore, or if I do, I hope they don't hear me."
    >>>>
    >>>>
    >>>> The moral of the story?
    >>>>
    >>>> Well, stay in school; study hard; eat right; don't abuse alcohol or
    >>>> drugs; by all means DO NOT smoke cigarettes or use nicotine; go to
    >>>> church regularly; love God above all else; and then, well, it all
    >>>> pretty much boils down to genetics and the Grace of God, so just
    >>>> deal with it and quit whining when you start to think things are
    >>>> not going like you would have them go if you were in charge of the
    >>>> universe. The universe is unfolding as it should, and pretty
    >>>> basically it's all good, so try to sit back and enjoy it because
    >>>> THESE *ARE* the "good old days"!
    >>>>
    >>>> REPNET - TEH EDN IS NAER... TEH EDN!
    >>>
    >>>
    >>> can you spot the plagiarism in this reply

    >>
    >> You've spelt it correctly in your reply...
    >>
    >> and I have a dated header-set in my post...
    >>
    >> So, I don't know what you are insinuating, but if you are being
    >> deliberatly bad, that can only bring its own rewards.
    >>
    >> HTH

    >
    > the last line below is what i was referring to
    >
    > You are a child of the universe,
    > no less than the trees & the stars;
    > you have a right to be here.
    > And whether or not it is clear to you,
    > no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.


    Ahhh... Oh yes, Max Ehrmann's "Desiderata"...

    I think you'll find that the expression "the universe is unfolding as it
    should" is akin to "God's will be done" and is more of an adage than a
    copyrighted phrase, as it were. It can be found in some form or another in
    many writings including some translations of Kahlil Gibran... You got yer
    "Let go and let God"; "God to me is the universe unfolding"; "Listen to the
    universe as it unfolds"; etc. It's a concept worthy of awareness, as well
    as passing on so others might benefit.

    Max Ehrmann's widow did renew his 1927 copyright of "Desiderata" in 1954,
    but that copyright entails the entire poem - not a phrase from within it...

    Hardly is the recognition of a broad and oft-quoted concept in literature
    worthy of an insinuation of plagiarism?

    Have a nice day.

    (And please don't turn me in to Bon Jovi for stealing his material)

    --

    I *am* Bucky Breeder, (*(^; , and *I* approved this message!

    http://a-little-pussy-makes-me-happy.notlong.com/
    Bucky Breeder, Sep 21, 2008
    #6
  7. Aardvark

    % Guest

    Bucky Breeder wrote:
    > "%" <> wrote in news:GQuBk.1003$T65.368@edtnps82:
    >
    >> Bucky Breeder wrote:
    >>> "%" <> wrote in news:YEuBk.998$T65.438@edtnps82:
    >>>
    >>>> Bucky Breeder wrote:
    >>>>> Aardvark <> wrote in
    >>>>> news:7ctBk.75535$2:
    >>>>>
    >>>>>> On Sun, 21 Sep 2008 05:44:31 +0000, % wrote:
    >>>>>>
    >>>>>>> Troia wrote:
    >>>>>>>> Rebecca Jo wrote:
    >>>>>>>>
    >>>>>>>>> When people ask "how's it going?" I ALWAYS lie and say it's
    >>>>>>>>> pretty good. Even when it's family or friends. Because what am
    >>>>>>>>> I going to complain about? What do I have to complain about? I
    >>>>>>>>> feel like crap. Boohoo.
    >>>>>>>>
    >>>>>>>> I've been in a scrap with my daughter's BF because he asked, I
    >>>>>>>> said "Tired" (I was) and he comes from this background where he
    >>>>>>>> expects pleasantries, whereas I always answer honestly (but not
    >>>>>>>> in whining detail) so he apparently thought I was being "rude".
    >>>>>>>>
    >>>>>>>> Nonetheless, I intend to go on answering honestly (but not in
    >>>>>>>> whining detail when things are not "fine".)
    >>>>>>>>
    >>>>>>>> IMO it's not necessary to present it as a complaint, answering
    >>>>>>>> honestly.
    >>>>>>>
    >>>>>>> all men are bad
    >>>>>>
    >>>>>> Except for the good ones, of course.
    >>>>>
    >>>>>
    >>>>> But when we are bad, we are really *very* *good* at it!
    >>>>>
    >>>>> For instance, can someone actually dream about having a dream in
    >>>>> which one is having yet another dream, and so on? I ponder this
    >>>>> because this actually happened to me :
    >>>>>
    >>>>> So, here I am totally immersed in a huge, possibly Olympic sized,
    >>>>> pool of titties. Every inch of my naked body has
    >>>>> perky-nippled-titties pressed against it. One was even in my
    >>>>> nostril. Only for a moment did I even think that it might be a
    >>>>> booger, but did not pick it because instantly I realized
    >>>>> "whoaaaaaahh, that's a titty perky nipple stuck in my nose" and I
    >>>>> meandered back into my cushy-soft-and-warm cacoon of sweet titty
    >>>>> flesh suspending me weightless like floating on a fluffy cloud in
    >>>>> the sky - made entirely out of perky-nippled-titties.
    >>>>>
    >>>>> Suddenly, I hear in the faint distance an intermittent banging.
    >>>>> At first, way distant... but seemingly growing louder, closer,
    >>>>> and more urgent. I apparently awake, and backstroke, porpoise,
    >>>>> and wriggle out of my embracing cacoon of titties, and wander
    >>>>> through the mist into my living room and there's this little kid
    >>>>> banging on the window with both hands now.
    >>>>>
    >>>>> I open the front door where I see the early AM newspaper on the
    >>>>> doormat, pick it up, and throw it at the little kid, hitting him
    >>>>> solidly on the side of the head, and I shout "How many times have
    >>>>> I told you NOT to bang on my windows, you little bastard... The
    >>>>> housekeeper gives me all kinds of shit about having to clean your
    >>>>> greasy little paw-prints off the glass, and inexpensive Guatemalan
    >>>>> help it getting very hard to come-by in this hostile political
    >>>>> environment! (As it stands, I have to regularly threaten to call
    >>>>> INS and have her ass deported to keep her coming to work... I'm
    >>>>> such a sucker for her pleas, "Oh please, Masta Bucky, don't deport
    >>>>> me or my babies will starve to death..." so I ignore her
    >>>>> complaining as long as those windows get back to spotless.)
    >>>>>
    >>>>> The little boy is jumping up and down hysterically now, and
    >>>>> screams, "You gotta come help us, Mister Bucky; my mommy is stuck
    >>>>> in the hedges and can't get out... and the black bears are
    >>>>> coming closer and closer down the hill; Please, oh please, come
    >>>>> and save my mommy...!"
    >>>>>
    >>>>> Now, I'm nearly fully awake from my
    >>>>> warm-firm-perky-nippled-titty-cacoon slumber, and I silently
    >>>>> reflect "Oh, NOW I know who this is... His mom is that lady who
    >>>>> is always out in the front yard with a garden hose watering her
    >>>>> gardens wearing only a bikini no matter what time, day or night,
    >>>>> winter or summer, rain or shine, when I come home, she's out
    >>>>> there watering in a skimpy bikini. It's sort of strange, but she
    >>>>> has really nice gardens...
    >>>>>
    >>>>> I say "Hang on just another minute kid, I'll throw on a robe and
    >>>>> go check it out."
    >>>>>
    >>>>> As we arrive walking down the street, there she is, the kid's
    >>>>> momma, standing there in the middle of a hedge with her trusty
    >>>>> old garden hose running water all the while, and all that was
    >>>>> visable was her from the waist up wearing only a skimpy bikini
    >>>>> top with her firm, ample breasts bulging out all over.
    >>>>>
    >>>>> I exclaim "My God, woman... can't you teach your fucking kid not
    >>>>> to be banging on my window? How many times have I told you? It
    >>>>> is so simple, just show what a doorbell is, what is does, and how
    >>>>> to use it! If Carmalitta quits over the greasy-kid stains on my
    >>>>> windows I'm going to sue your ass into the poor house..." A
    >>>>> dramatic pause occurs here. I continue "HMMM, or I could simply
    >>>>> leave you here for the bears to eat, and then your little rug-
    >>>>> rat can go to the orphanage and weave pot-holders for his keep!
    >>>>> That'd shoot down all your dreams of Harvard and being a doctor's
    >>>>> mother, now wouldn't it?"
    >>>>>
    >>>>> The kid and its mamma both are crying and screaming hysterically
    >>>>> at this point, and there's a group of black bears, mamma bear,
    >>>>> one two year old and a pair of yearling twins standing on their
    >>>>> hindlegs and waving their cute little hand in the air making the
    >>>>> bear growls and then advancing closer to the main house, and then
    >>>>> repeating the same behavior... I'm guessing they sense a meal
    >>>>> here, because who wouldn't want to eat the lady in a bikini with
    >>>>> the running water hose, ehh?
    >>>>>
    >>>>> I say "OK! Let's see what we can do to get you out of there now,
    >>>>> before the neighbors wake up to check on the commotion... Can you
    >>>>> make that kid shut up before I have to knock it out for its own
    >>>>> good?"
    >>>>>
    >>>>> The woman screams "Shut up, Mortimer! Please just shut up. It's
    >>>>> going to be OK."
    >>>>>
    >>>>> I walk around to the inside of the hedgeline, and carefully reach
    >>>>> in and separate the pointed holly hedge branches and say "OK, I
    >>>>> think I've got cha all cleared up now... try to come on out."
    >>>>>
    >>>>> She steps backwards one step, and the first thing I notice as
    >>>>> she's gingerly backing out for the second backwards step is that
    >>>>> she's covered with very deep scratches. Then at the second step,
    >>>>> I am alarmed to see that she is wearing NO bikini bottom! And
    >>>>> her firm ample buttocks are covered with deep scratches as well
    >>>>> as her thighs and her calves...
    >>>>>
    >>>>> She steps free of the bushes and abruptly turns around to face me
    >>>>> when I am doubly alarmed to see that she has one of those
    >>>>> Hitler-moustache pubic hair mounds adorning her happy place - and
    >>>>> a vertical hyterectomy scar which runs from the top of her pubic
    >>>>> hairline almost to her belly button's six-pack abdomen.
    >>>>>
    >>>>> Yewwchhhhh! Hysterectomy scar...
    >>>>>
    >>>>> She says "Oh thanks, Bucky! Would you like to come in for some
    >>>>> coffee?"
    >>>>>
    >>>>> I respond "That's 'Mr. Breeder' to you, Neighbor-bitch, and if you
    >>>>> don't stop that kid from banging on my window, there's going to be
    >>>>> hell to pay, and you'll be working off the bounced check in the
    >>>>> sugar-beet fields!"
    >>>>>
    >>>>> She laughs like she KNOWS her coochie is tighter than one of those
    >>>>> Chinese finger-lock party-favor thangys...
    >>>>>
    >>>>> I say "Thanks for the offer of coffee, but I've some beauty sleep
    >>>>> to catch up on... Hey, crank your stereo really loud to scare off
    >>>>> those bears... They really hate ZZ Top!"
    >>>>>
    >>>>> She said "Good night, Bucky... whoops, I mean good morning don't
    >>>>> I?"
    >>>>>
    >>>>> I said "Next time wear your pants or you'll catch cold."
    >>>>>
    >>>>> She said as she demurely raised her hand to cover her lower face,
    >>>>> as if embarassed now, "Oh, those; they are stuck over in the
    >>>>> bushes where they came off as I tried to free myself... I'll
    >>>>> find them later."
    >>>>>
    >>>>> The she turned and waddled those tight-buttocks up the entry
    >>>>> stairs...
    >>>>>
    >>>>> I shook my head, a la Lewis Black's routine, and headed back for
    >>>>> my warm, cushy, snuggle-sleepy-dreamy-stasis, which I so hoped I
    >>>>> could recover now.
    >>>>>
    >>>>> As I re-entered my home via the front door, I dropped my robe as I
    >>>>> passed through the foyer and started to ascend the stairway to my
    >>>>> bedroom suite... but I noticed what were apparently uniforms
    >>>>> strewn everywhere... on the floor, on the guiderails, over the
    >>>>> backs of furniture... and pearly white silky underwear... and
    >>>>> bras...
    >>>>>
    >>>>> Being back to a half-asleep state, I knew the alarms had not been
    >>>>> activated, so I figured that I would eventually figure out the
    >>>>> inconsistencies when I awakened sometime on the morrow, and
    >>>>> proceeded into my sleeping quarters, naked, tired, and ready to
    >>>>> catch some rest.
    >>>>>
    >>>>> As I threw back the sheets, my bed was covered with four sprawling
    >>>>> naked females... And then I remembered I had tarried at the
    >>>>> airport lounge for some relaxation and conversation where I had
    >>>>> met some stewardesses whose flight back to Seattle had been
    >>>>> delayed until further notice...
    >>>>>
    >>>>> "You bitches scoot over and make some room for me and Mr. Happy" I
    >>>>> said as I wriggled into a cleared spot amongst the four
    >>>>> beauties... I only called them "bitches" because at this point I
    >>>>> couldn't recall all of their names.
    >>>>>
    >>>>> My last conscious thought as I drifted off into a blissful slumber
    >>>>> amonst all that sweet-smelling flesh pressed against me was "Oh
    >>>>> God, I hope I don't snore, or if I do, I hope they don't hear me."
    >>>>>
    >>>>>
    >>>>> The moral of the story?
    >>>>>
    >>>>> Well, stay in school; study hard; eat right; don't abuse alcohol
    >>>>> or drugs; by all means DO NOT smoke cigarettes or use nicotine;
    >>>>> go to church regularly; love God above all else; and then, well,
    >>>>> it all pretty much boils down to genetics and the Grace of God,
    >>>>> so just deal with it and quit whining when you start to think
    >>>>> things are not going like you would have them go if you were in
    >>>>> charge of the universe. The universe is unfolding as it should,
    >>>>> and pretty basically it's all good, so try to sit back and enjoy
    >>>>> it because THESE *ARE* the "good old days"!
    >>>>>
    >>>>> REPNET - TEH EDN IS NAER... TEH EDN!
    >>>>
    >>>>
    >>>> can you spot the plagiarism in this reply
    >>>
    >>> You've spelt it correctly in your reply...
    >>>
    >>> and I have a dated header-set in my post...
    >>>
    >>> So, I don't know what you are insinuating, but if you are being
    >>> deliberatly bad, that can only bring its own rewards.
    >>>
    >>> HTH

    >>
    >> the last line below is what i was referring to
    >>
    >> You are a child of the universe,
    >> no less than the trees & the stars;
    >> you have a right to be here.
    >> And whether or not it is clear to you,
    >> no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

    >
    > Ahhh... Oh yes, Max Ehrmann's "Desiderata"...
    >
    > I think you'll find that the expression "the universe is unfolding as
    > it should" is akin to "God's will be done" and is more of an adage
    > than a copyrighted phrase, as it were. It can be found in some form
    > or another in many writings including some translations of Kahlil
    > Gibran... You got yer "Let go and let God"; "God to me is the
    > universe unfolding"; "Listen to the universe as it unfolds"; etc.
    > It's a concept worthy of awareness, as well as passing on so others
    > might benefit.
    >
    > Max Ehrmann's widow did renew his 1927 copyright of "Desiderata" in
    > 1954, but that copyright entails the entire poem - not a phrase from
    > within it...
    >
    > Hardly is the recognition of a broad and oft-quoted concept in
    > literature worthy of an insinuation of plagiarism?
    >
    > Have a nice day.
    >
    > (And please don't turn me in to Bon Jovi for stealing his material)



    don't be so offended you'll refold your universe
    %, Sep 21, 2008
    #7
    1. Advertising

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