LONG LIVE THE MEGA-POST!
You should be able to view it again, but Masako had to shut off the comments at…
3821.
She had to delete one spam comment to get it viewable again (link).
Please, let’s hear a big round of applause for all of you who posted in the Mega-Post and kept it alive for a year and four months. Please use this comment thread to post your fondest memories of the post with the most…
the Mega-Post.
Good lord! Did they ask him about burning cars and Lynx anti-perspirant? That should have been in his comfort zone. Or confused whales in the Thames: we’ve been doing a nice line in those of late.
Scotland and Croydon are doing their best with confused whales and the recent smear that Croydon Tourist Office has a Closed sign, something like the Bush dynasty.
And how is Wales doing with confused whales? Perhaps the signage at the mouths of the rivers ought to be multilingual?
But what about Wails? Plenty of them in Wales. And whales.
Why does the site never remember my name these days?
Absent-minded WordPress site…it must be preoccupied with something very important.
The imminent sexbot apocalypse, perhaps?
WordPress is clearly trying to get on Santa’s ‘Nice’ list. I’ve been trying extra hard this year. Been humming a lot to drown out the voices. And I’ve hidden all the bolt-cutters and gaffa tape, just to be sure.
I haven’t got a chimney.
I’m hoping that’s not a euphemism.
There is a chimney at my house, and I will rue the day when I invited Father Christmas, Santa Claus, The Christmas Goat, and the Hogfather over for cookies and milk, trying to bring about a cease-fire in their turf war.
What about Saint Nick?
He’s no saint, believe me.
Filthy manners. And curses like a trooper.
I forgot to invite Saint Nick, and so am probably on his naughty list, if he has one.
He’d probably make one just for you, Ace.
That’s how naughty you are.
Have you ever tried to control flying reindeer?
No wonder he swears like a trooper.
Yeah. And don’t forget about that reindeer feces falling at hypersonic speeds on people’s houses.
Happy wotsits everyone.
Wish you all that you wish yourselves.
Happy Festivus . . . almost. I may not be around tomorrow, so I’m getting it in early. We’ve made it though another year – more impressively by some than others. But I’m glad we all did and here’s to another one.
Yes, here’s to the best friends that one could hope to have on a mostly defunct satire site. Thanks for all the laughs and fish, and thanks to Moltz for keeping the lights on.
And for getting Nxxx back in the loop: well done, Mr Moltz. I’d buy you a drink but I’m in Blighty. And tight. And not in that way.
Nxxx must feel a bit like Michael Corleone….”Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in!”
Which one of us is Fredo?
(knowing that, by asking the question, I’m probably Fredo)
For 81 years I’ve been a good boy, no crimes, paid taxes, supported charities and been a good citizen, no wonder it’s been boredom end to end. I sent Santa a request for a blonde sexbot. Nowt! Intend to spend the little remaining time doing a Moriarty.
I really hope that’s not an auto-erotic position, Nxxx.
And hope even more fervently never to see the selfies if it is.
Happy and prosperous New Year but following the Santa scam, no New Year resolutions.
Cousins, since you begin to experience 2019 before those of us on the left coast of the US, could you please let us know if it’s worth the upgrade?
Thanks!
Yes, you in the misty isles can surely recommend a beverage that will pair well with 2019 while washing away the scummy residue of 2018. Am I right?
Meanwhile, I do have a few resolutions this time around (when I normally don’t). In 2019 I resolve to: deacidify the oceans, rebuild the glaciers, bring the trees back to Amazonia and Borneo, replace all coal-burning power plants with solar, wind, tidal, and nuclear fusion sources, introduce a new iPhone model that is the same size as my SE, replace all assault weapons and handguns with chocolate or licorice facsimiles, send Donald Trump on a mission to Mars, and have my rusty sexbot cleaned and lubed. I think that’s enough for one year. If I don’t succeed in completing these tasks, I will make excuses worthy of a Pulitzer Prize.
And what about Pudding over IP? Have we given up all hope?
‘Tis true we seem somewhat stymied. So how about we start with IP over Pudding and then reverse engineer?
I believe there has been some success streaming mildew and slime mold over the internet, but only via Alexa or Amazon Echo. Once hackers crack the security on Apple hardware options, everyone will get a chance to try it.
Sorry if my mention of mildew put anyone off his appetite. It’s not my favorite either.
As honey is bees spit, what’s wrong with mildew?
No I don’t want it over ip.
What about over Lip? Like the bees?
BroMu,
Don’t know if you noticed but a witness stated that someone had “A Croydon accent”
Fame or what?
But isn’t everyone in Croydon from somewhere else?
You should fear the Croydon accent, Ace. It’s not on the positive, like that song.
I hope the arctic air isn’t adversely affecting our cousins. Though if it were, I imagine it would be easier to handle than Brexit.
BTW, things are “normal” here in NorCal.
Not on fire in the dead of winter? Yep, that’s normal.
I can’t remember…are you no longer in Silicon Valley?
As long as you can break the icicle off, what’s the problem?
I sincerely hope *that* isn’t a euphemism, Nxxx.
It was a bit chilly chez Gravesend over the weekend – snow! – but the thermal vents from burning mattresses trapped by swirling mists of Lynx aftershave soon melted all that ridiculousness. We’re back to gum-pocked pavements and grey again now. Phew . . .
Ace,
I had to move out of SV. Couldn’t afford to buy anything, and the house we were renting was drive-us-crazy small. So I now work remotely a few days a week, and commute to SV via train and possibly the longest commute in the US. If I didn’t take the train, I would be homicidal. Which, if it happened, I suppose you would finally see my picture on the telly.
Nxxx: Murder by icicle presents problems when dusting for fingerprints.
BroMu: Snow here too. Enough to impede an ant.
Steve G.: If you do snap, how will we know it’s you? Perhaps a red carnation in your lapel?
Steve, I head the expression ‘Go Postal’ a few years ago. Presumably this means you could actually *post* yourself to your destination, instead of commuting? So why don’t you ‘Go Postal’, then we’d avoid all that Falling Down carnage and your identity would remain shrouded in the usual levels of CARS mystery?
Placing my person into the post would be more cost effective. And there is a large Amazon distribution facility nearby; I suppose I could place myself into the Amazon flow, provided that I don’t experience an accident like that fellow on the South Park episode.
We can expect that once “Pudding over IP” is perfected, “Steve G. over IP” will soon follow.
As long as Mrs. Steve G. cannot figure it out. Otherwise, I’m certain to be sent to some random far-off location.
Does that make Steve ‘IP Man’? If so, Mrs Steve G should surely watch out. And those naughty Japanese.