The Mega-Post is Dead


You should be able to view it again, but Masako had to shut off the comments at…


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.

8,099 thoughts on “The Mega-Post is Dead”

  1. Regarding my health, I believe I will be my old self within a few months. The wound care nurse who comes to the house to bandage my feet expects all my toes to survive. I should be able to wear my normal shoes within a month or so, enabling me to mow the lawn again. And after my final surgery planned for the end of June, I should be able return to my place of employment so that I can bring home the bacon and not feel so much older than my actual age of 66 years.

    1. I apologize for neglecting to write something funny there, but that is part of what afflicts me.

      On another subject: when I was younger, I thought it would be instructive for me to travel abroad and visit “third-world countries.” I never did. As it turns out, I needed only to wait a while for the USA to become a third-world country – no travel agent necessary!

      1. I tolerate people or animals regardless of whether they lack toes or other appendages.

        However, I have a low tolerance of those who hurt people or animals. I may eat bacon on occasion, but if I ever find the fellow who murdered the pig, there will be stern words spoken.

  2. It’s good to hear your lawn mowing dream is alive again, Ace: without that I would have feared for your sanity. Or the shreds that remain, certainly. Also, I initially misread the ‘wound’ nurse as a homographic that led to visions of Nurse Ratchet (I know it’s really ‘Ratched’ . . . but it’s pronounced more appropriately). Good to hear you’re on the mend anyway. Keep us in the (hopefully not infinite) loop.

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  4. I’ve been monetising this site for years, Ace. In the manner of a racketeer, threatening re-directs to here unless bigger, better . . . more normal . . . sites cough up some dough.

    I literally mean dough, by the way. Then I bake cookies and sell them for the dough.

    In which latter context I literally don’t mean literally dough.

  5. I have yet to think of a way to make CARS pay so that I have something to take to the bank. Yet I keep returning because I believe in the power of CARS to elevate the human condition. Oops, just kidding!

  6. Hang on . . . who’s working on the assumption we’re all human? I mean apart from me, obviously. Because why wouldn’t I?

    Speaking of which, where *is* Nxxx. This is starting to look a tad ominous, I fear.

  7. My Turing test results are in – I’m going to have to take it again. Next time I’ll buy the Cliff’s Notes.

  8. I hate to broach the subject, but do any of you have a non-CARS way to contact Nxxx? A Web site? A covert messaging system involving plinths?

  9. I have no hotline to Nxxx. This is all that I almost know of him, rightly or wrongly:
    – name probably not Nxxx
    – claims to be a native of Wales
    – likely a Morris dancer at some point, and/or on a rowing team
    – possibly a public figure in Croydon
    – never seen at the same time and place as Colonel Disgusted Retired
    – incarcerated at Dartmoor prison before escaping via helium balloons and rounding the sun, finally crash landing back on his home planet

  10. Ace, on seeing one of those shirts, I realize that it’s been so long that I’d forgotten that the sexbots were lesbians. And ninjas. If they’ve figured out how to send pudding over IP then we’re in real trouble.

  11. I found the lesbian ninja sexbots to be fairly memorable., though I can’t remember their names.

    Mr. Moltz was clever to provide a running shirt with the Marathon logo so that a runner running a marathon in it could be sporting a double entendre. I imagine another runner asking the wearer “Did you use to play Marathon?”
    “Cool, what’s your name?”
    “Exploding Bob.”

  12. Is that actually a real thing? That we can use? To order things? It doesn’t seem like it should be. Unless John ordered waaaaay too many t-shirts and is now stuck with flogging them as some kind of Sisyphean toil to the presumably non-extant CARS diaspora.

    Surely we’re the only suckers left who know about CARS? So if we don’t buy them . . . do they just stay there? In storeroom Limbo. For. Ever?

    Where’s Nxxx when you need him for some bleak insight, eh?

  13. I notice that Caius only joined us long enough to snag the 7777. Perhaps he’s just a fair-weather friend after all.

    Now, Nxxx has been a stalwart, and if he is ill, I wish him a full recovery. If he is beyond ill, I wish him a full resurrection or reincarnation.

    The anonymity that tends to come with this place has made it unlikely for us to know the fates of those who once were our genial acquaintances here. Such is the ephemeral nature of the virtual world.

  14. I’m trying hard to de-ephemeralise myself by eating pies at a rate similar to the production of Marvel franchise movies. By the time you read this I should be denser than a pulsar. But somewhat less radiant.

    I do hope Nxxx is all right. Or at least that the people who may have annoyed him had a nice funeral.

      1. I like a chicken pot pie or a bridie, if we’re talking “savory.” On the sweet side, I favor blackberry pie or pumpkin pie. If we’re referring to a yellow circle with a wedge cut from it, that would be Pac-Man.

  15. I sometimes wonder if these conversations are me and some random chatbot or I’m slowly losing the remnants of my sanity. At this point, either option seems equally plausible.

    Still… here’s hoping Nxxx just has some Internet connectivity issues. Like maybe the pudding clogged his IP. (Make of that what you will.)

  16. I’m a chavbot, unfortunately, and hence almost entirely random. It’s a geography thing. On the plus side, I have a very limited vocabulary and so need little verbal maintenance. And I don’t do upgrades.

  17. It’s good to know that others who only randomly drop in here (possibly druggies) think that this is “excellent quality.” I wonder what they would think if they weren’t druggies.

  18. Hmmm. I got anonymised a few posts back. Should I worry that we’re sliding into obscurity? And by ‘sliding’ I clearly mean ‘hurtling’.

  19. I don’t recall ever being anonymized without my consent, and don’t believe that I’ve been in Cognito, either.

  20. I’ve been in Cognito before. That’s where I met Joe Schmo, John Q. Public, Plain Jane, and Ned Brown. The town even has a nonymous in the zoo.

  21. Sorry to be tardy to this (yet “I don’t *feel* tardy . . .”), but I was on a break in Nominate. Lovely place. Bugger to get to, though. And don’t bother asking for directions.

  22. I don’t know the answer to that.

    However, when I was young, back in the 60s, the tourism department for my home state of Oregon was using the rather confusing slogan “Relax in a State of Excitement…”

    Some people opted for “Pass out after twitching spasmodically.”

  23. But not ‘Relax’ . . . er . . . like Frankie suggested?

    Also, ‘Frankie Goes to Oregon’ doesn’t quite have the same ring anyway.

  24. Oops. I had to look up your reference, since I was not paying much attention to popular music in the 80s. Instead, I was listening to jazz, Brazilian, and African forms, mostly. The advent of YouTube some years back allowed me to discover some of what was happening in the 80s and 90s, but meanwhile I’ve continued to ignore the current offerings for the most part.

  25. Ignorance truly is bliss, Ace. I foolishly bought one of those ‘Hits of the 80s!’ compilations the other day (mainly just to get ‘Big Area’ by Then Jericho . . . I’m not proud).

    Alas, my youth has not aged well.

  26. Gah. Sorry to have missed this. Belated felicitations.

    We too are hoping for rain. We’re in a heatwave currently. It’s most . . . disconcerting. Like being in the World Cup semis.

    The universe is all askew.

  27. I had always thought that “British summer” was an oxymoron. Can you even get suntan lotion?

    And I hope the football fest will finish without any undue unruliness.

  28. En-ger-land, En-ger-land, En-ger-land.

    Oh, sorry. I came over all . . . zealous.

    I’m sure it will have passed by this evening.

    And I mean *sure*.

    Where’s Steve, I wonder? Hope all’s well with him. Just let us know you’re okay, old chap?

  29. I was pining for the fjords!

    Technical difficulties have prevented me from posting. Someday, this might actually work (le sigh).

  30. Aha! The site actually does not want me to post as Steve. I’m sure that’s a sign of something. Though what, I’ll leave that open to debate.

    There were some witty comments that I had, but since the timeliness has long since passed, they’d be rather stale.

  31. Hurrah!

    Who needs witty comments when you have pudding of IP.

    Now if you’ll excuse me I’m off for a day of national footie mourning.

  32. I have a number of possibly witty anachronistic comments stored in a nearby tunnel. They are more than stale, judging by the greenish-grey fungus attaching thereto.

    Has the World Cup run its course? And did the best side win?

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