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.
My children are much more tidy as adults than they were as little people. Although I haven’t looked in their closets…
Nxxx,
We just don’t have guests in those parts of the house. And if we really want to keep people away, we let the dogs scare the stuffing (or other suitable filling) out of them.
I don’t get out much, but apparently Apple sold an iPhone.
Amazing how many mugs there are in the World.
A what, Ace? I can’t hear you over these pounding Beats headphones . . .
Are they Bob-quality headphones?
(Trying to tie this into the most recent Moltz-authored post…)
Don’t you mean Bobby’s girl or should that be boy?
I don’t know Bobby’s girl. I know of Jessie’s girl. But don’t tell my Darling Wife.
A notch above Bob-quality headphones (where one is compelled to bob one’s head to the music)is Head-banger-quality headphones, where there is “shredding,” I believe. And maybe thrashing, in addition to the head-banging.
Is the head banging generated by one’s own locomotion, or is it imparted by the force of another? If the latter, those would be some high-quality headphones if they stayed on.
For shredding, as long as there is some warmth provided, they should be good.
And for us on this side of the pond, good luck on the very slim chance you might be holding a winning lottery ticket. I think I’ll get Pudding over IP before a winning ticket.
When it comes to the lotteries, I’ve come to the conclusion that my chances aren’t increased much by the purchase of a ticket, so now I hope simply to be handed the money without any fuss. It’s my little Paperwork Reduction Act.
I won our Lotto the other day. They sent me a letter with ‘You’ve landed The Big One!’ on it, complete with a picture of a man holding up what I took to be a ginormous turbot.
Heart racing, I booted my wife out of the door, speed-dialled the Fembot Factory, and ripped the envelope open.
Inside, a small piece of paper informing me that ‘£38.50 would be credited to my account’.
I’m not sure they aren’t pissing me around for the hell of it, to be honest.
When does your Fembot arrive?
BroMU,
If you’ve won a giant turbot, put it on the car and train the wife in accepting speeding points.
Are the fembots mentioned the weaponized Austin Powers model?
If so, you should know there has been a recall due to sporadic jamming.
Sporadic jamming?
Great for the W.I.
Is ‘sporadic jamming’ a euphemism.
I can never be sure around here.
Which is why I keep returning.
For those whose minds are twisted enough, anything can become a euphemism.
You’re correct, Ace.
What is “euphemism” a euphemism for?
I’d rather not say, for fear of offending the delicate sensibilities of our readers. I don’t like to offend. Which is why, when I want to eat an innocent dead baby cow, I ask for veal.
I adopt a similar approach, asking nebulously for the ‘something from the Peckinpah trolley’ when what I really want is the Head of Alfredo Garcia.
BroMu,
That requires that your server have some knowledge of what you’re asking for. You could wind up with a Cross of Iron (thanks to IMDB).
BroMu already has the Iron Cross for Valour.
Velour? He got rewarded for his track suit? Is he one of those Russian spammers?
Thought of trying for a Purple Heart but was too yellow at the sight of red.
It’s nice that John subsidizes a private chat channel for you guys.
Not when you consider what we chat about. It’s more therapy, really. Soon to form the basis of the hit reality show ‘When Waffle Goes Bad’.
If Mr. Moltz is the mad scientist that I think he is, the Giga-Post may simply be a Petrie dish that he checks from time to time to see if any culture develops. He is probably disappointed in how the experiment has gone thus far.
I don’t know, Ace. When I can follow what your talking about, you all can be pretty entertaining.
How dare you utter such twaddle, Sue?
Now we’ll have to keep posting for ever.
Guys,
We should not have agreed to Del’s experiment.
I never did, Nxxx. But her critters can be very persuasive.
I just wondered into one of these tunnels years ago (I don’t remember how long it’s been) and seem to have gotten trapped. Every once in a while, I come up for air (= posting).
Ugh. And fat-finger syndrome. I meant “wandered.” Though “wondered” also works. See how strange things are around here?
It is indeed a place of wander, Steve.
And pudding.
As I wander, I wonder. Have I come hither or gone thither? And where is “yon?”
And what is beyond yon? Have you been there?
“Yon”?
Merely “You” with the “u” upside down.
Yan? Isn’t he some Austrian guy? Or is that Jan? I’m phonetically confused.
Surely Yon must be somewhere in the vicinity of our Ken?
My maps app tells me that yon is “over yonder,” so beyond yon must be even farther beyond yonder, which takes me back to what I was originally wondering about, which is: are we there yet?
Yet? Is this a typo for Yeti? If so, the answer is yes, unless Del’s been at it again.
This conversation is beginning to get beyond my ken.
Or perhaps it’s farther beyonder yonder.
The further it goes, the happier I get.
Why soon I’ll be as happy as Larry.
Who always seems to be optimally cheery. The smug git.
Which Larry is that? I want to make sure I’m making an accurate comparison.
You know Larry. Every other bugger does. The one with the big grin on his face. All. The. Livelong. Time.
Larry is in a better place now, and always has been.
Have you spoken to your shrink regarding your late and obviously failed relationship with Larry?
Larry *was* my shrink.
Since Spring has sprung in the northern hemisphere, permit me to say “sproing!”
“Sproing!”
Ace,
It was also the Equinox, who ever that is but we had a Solar Eclipse as well.
It is all too much to add “Sproing!”