Clam Mass 10/22/06 Supernova sun clam wrath Part 4

Weird ah Yankovich wrote:
Double-Anus wrote:
ah wrote:
mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote:
In article ,
ah wrote:

mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote:
In article ,
ah wrote:

mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote:
In article ,
ah wrote:

Phil Kyle wrote:
ah verbally sodomised in
:

Phil Kyle wrote:
ah verbally sodomised in
:

Phil Kyle wrote:
ah verbally sodomised in
:

Phil Kyle wrote:
The Very Tim verbally sodomised in
:

wrote:
Okay timt your on today hope you come though don't mess up.

here we go


......mindless snippage of important set-up material.....

This is the third reading from the book of Timt of Clay
(Timt this is yours)

Ahem ahem. Well, I'll give it a shot, even if it's only to
provide
Little Kill Phyle Clam with something to babble about, (now
that
he has been converted to a full-fledged and totally devoted
a.b.c.
Lurker `(

(I know you're devoted little buddy, because I'm not
cross-posting
this stuff, so you have! to come into the Bay to read it. Come
on
now, admit it. You like! it here. And we like you! to like it
here. But I digress.)

Little Kill Phyle Clam looked about to see if any of the
regular
bad.clams had noticed him yet. (They hadn't, of course)

He had tried using bad words and evil aspersions to earn the
respect
of the denizens of Beautiful Mollusc Bay, but alas, he was
being
ignored far and wide and hither and yonder and everywhere else
he
stuck his little siphon in, with his pitiable pleas for
attention.

"Will they never take pity on me?" thought Little Kill Phyle
Clam,
"Can't they see that I, too, am remarkably clever and astoot?
(even if my speling does stink a bit) How can I earn their
attention and high regard, I wonder?" But the clams noticed
him
not a whit.


Far greater concerns concerned the clams of the noble and
revered
Mollusc Bay. They had a SuperNova Sun Clam Wrath(tm) with
which to
contend. The clams were watching the skies in hopes of an
impending victory over whatever was out there.

They already had! cleverness and beauty galore, and wisdom and
wit
to spare. But they lacked a gooey, muddy material with which
to
build wonderful things and arty facts. Whatever could they do?

A dark calm came over the bay, and the clouds parted for a
nonce
or two..

"Let there be CLAY!" roared the golden voice of the
silver-tongued
ClamLord.

And suddenly, there was clay; not merely a lump of clay,
but a
giant
lump of clay with a large cave inside. A cave of clay, as they
say.

"Hmmm." thought Timt, (out loud) "what a swell place to sit
and
mediate for a while. It has relatively waterproof walls, and
while
not exactly fireproof, these walls can! convert themselves to
the
finest stoneware ramparts and crenellations and suchwhats.
Perhaps
I shall make my muddy headquarters here."

And that is precisely what he did. He sat in the middle of a
puddle of
mud and clay and began to create. Oh what a mess that clam
made!

First, he annoyed the hangers-on by welcoming them to the
Bay.
(Truth
be told, there was only 1 new hanger-on, but the prevailing
exchange rate did take into account multiple personalities, so
that one counts as many for the purposes of this telling.)
Then,
he tweaked their pointy little nose by not! reading any of
their
posts or follow-ups.

And frankly, (no relation) all they did post were
follow-ups,
usually
with dirty words included since those who have no proper ideas
and
words of interest to post are frequently confined to defining
themselfs by using only dirty words and intended-to-be hurtful
phrases because that is all their mommy ever gave them with
which
to work. And so they did.

They typed furiously into the night, trying with great
desperation
to get some attention from the lordly and quiet-as-ever clams
of
Beautiful Mollusc Bay.

Yet still, it did not work for them. Only the Mighty ClamLord
could impress the geoducks and pseudopods of the bay. Only he
had
the magic ingredient required to attract the attention of the
clams. Only the ClamLord had imagination enough to spare and
daring enough to share. And only ClamLord gave a care for the
regularity of clam posts. (heavy sigh)

He posted like a covered wagon on fire rolling across the
prairie
at the height of drought season. And his words did spread.
They
did spread mightily and far-ly too. (not Farley Mowatt, just
far-ly too.)

And Timt looked out upon the confusion which he had created,
and
said, "I sure hope this pleases the ClamLord, (and annoys his
serf-clam bad.clam wannabees.) For lo!, it pleaseth me!" And
he
winkethed. `(

And with that, the Mighty Timt closed his eyes and ruminated
in
his
rapidly feebling mind, on the awe and question marks that
would
shortly show themselves in the eyes of the Bay's newest
hanger-on.

Welcome a broad, little Kill Phyle. Now that you are here,
let's
see
how long it takes you to settle in and become a true bad.clam.


And with that, the clam Mass ended as abruptly (and
peacefully)
as it
had begun. And again the voice of the golden-voiced one rang
out
over the Bay. It said, this mass has ended go in peace and
be
clammy

todays gift: free clay from the cave


TimT (as in, "There you go clams. don't track it into the
cave,
okay?" `(


Yup.


Yup.

Yup.


Yup.


Yup.


Yup.

Yup.

Yup.

ay-yup

You from Maine?

ay-nope

VT?

*looks at globe*

I've always wanted to do a real-time comparison of the clock/counter-clock
vortex phenomenon . . . maybe if I petitioned CSIRO and MIT?
--
ah


Sounds like there might be a grant in that for you.

So when are you going to tire of these cascade games and lay your
theory of everything on us?

I have issues being labeled "weird".

Why is that, ah thole?

Michael Baldwin, Bruce wrote:
Weird ah Yankovich wrote:
Double-Anus wrote:
ah wrote:
mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote:
In article ,
ah wrote:

mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote:
In article ,
ah wrote:

mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote:
In article ,
ah wrote:

Phil Kyle wrote:
ah verbally sodomised in
:

Phil Kyle wrote:
ah verbally sodomised in
:

Phil Kyle wrote:
ah verbally sodomised in
:

Phil Kyle wrote:
The Very Tim verbally sodomised in
:

wrote:
Okay timt your on today hope you come though don't mess up.

here we go


......mindless snippage of important set-up material.....

This is the third reading from the book of Timt of Clay
(Timt this is yours)

Ahem ahem. Well, I'll give it a shot, even if it's only to
provide
Little Kill Phyle Clam with something to babble about, (now
that
he has been converted to a full-fledged and totally devoted
a.b.c.
Lurker `(

(I know you're devoted little buddy, because I'm not
cross-posting
this stuff, so you have! to come into the Bay to read it. Come
on
now, admit it. You like! it here. And we like you! to like it
here. But I digress.)

Little Kill Phyle Clam looked about to see if any of the
regular
bad.clams had noticed him yet. (They hadn't, of course)

He had tried using bad words and evil aspersions to earn the
respect
of the denizens of Beautiful Mollusc Bay, but alas, he was
being
ignored far and wide and hither and yonder and everywhere else
he
stuck his little siphon in, with his pitiable pleas for
attention.

"Will they never take pity on me?" thought Little Kill Phyle
Clam,
"Can't they see that I, too, am remarkably clever and astoot?
(even if my speling does stink a bit) How can I earn their
attention and high regard, I wonder?" But the clams noticed
him
not a whit.


Far greater concerns concerned the clams of the noble and
revered
Mollusc Bay. They had a SuperNova Sun Clam Wrath(tm) with
which to
contend. The clams were watching the skies in hopes of an
impending victory over whatever was out there.

They already had! cleverness and beauty galore, and wisdom and
wit
to spare. But they lacked a gooey, muddy material with which
to
build wonderful things and arty facts. Whatever could they do?

A dark calm came over the bay, and the clouds parted for a
nonce
or two..

"Let there be CLAY!" roared the golden voice of the
silver-tongued
ClamLord.

And suddenly, there was clay; not merely a lump of clay,
but a
giant
lump of clay with a large cave inside. A cave of clay, as they
say.

"Hmmm." thought Timt, (out loud) "what a swell place to sit
and
mediate for a while. It has relatively waterproof walls, and
while
not exactly fireproof, these walls can! convert themselves to
the
finest stoneware ramparts and crenellations and suchwhats.
Perhaps
I shall make my muddy headquarters here."

And that is precisely what he did. He sat in the middle of a
puddle of
mud and clay and began to create. Oh what a mess that clam
made!

First, he annoyed the hangers-on by welcoming them to the
Bay.
(Truth
be told, there was only 1 new hanger-on, but the prevailing
exchange rate did take into account multiple personalities, so
that one counts as many for the purposes of this telling.)
Then,
he tweaked their pointy little nose by not! reading any of
their
posts or follow-ups.

And frankly, (no relation) all they did post were
follow-ups,
usually
with dirty words included since those who have no proper ideas
and
words of interest to post are frequently confined to defining
themselfs by using only dirty words and intended-to-be hurtful
phrases because that is all their mommy ever gave them with
which
to work. And so they did.

They typed furiously into the night, trying with great
desperation
to get some attention from the lordly and quiet-as-ever clams
of
Beautiful Mollusc Bay.

Yet still, it did not work for them. Only the Mighty ClamLord
could impress the geoducks and pseudopods of the bay. Only he
had
the magic ingredient required to attract the attention of the
clams. Only the ClamLord had imagination enough to spare and
daring enough to share. And only ClamLord gave a care for the
regularity of clam posts. (heavy sigh)

He posted like a covered wagon on fire rolling across the
prairie
at the height of drought season. And his words did spread.
They
did spread mightily and far-ly too. (not Farley Mowatt, just
far-ly too.)

And Timt looked out upon the confusion which he had created,
and
said, "I sure hope this pleases the ClamLord, (and annoys his
serf-clam bad.clam wannabees.) For lo!, it pleaseth me!" And
he
winkethed. `(

And with that, the Mighty Timt closed his eyes and ruminated
in
his
rapidly feebling mind, on the awe and question marks that
would
shortly show themselves in the eyes of the Bay's newest
hanger-on.

Welcome a broad, little Kill Phyle. Now that you are here,
let's
see
how long it takes you to settle in and become a true bad.clam.


And with that, the clam Mass ended as abruptly (and
peacefully)
as it
had begun. And again the voice of the golden-voiced one rang
out
over the Bay. It said, this mass has ended go in peace and
be
clammy

todays gift: free clay from the cave


TimT (as in, "There you go clams. don't track it into the
cave,
okay?" `(


Yup.


Yup.

Yup.


Yup.


Yup.


Yup.

Yup.

Yup.

ay-yup

You from Maine?

ay-nope

VT?

*looks at globe*

I've always wanted to do a real-time comparison of the clock/counter-clock
vortex phenomenon . . . maybe if I petitioned CSIRO and MIT?
--
ah


Sounds like there might be a grant in that for you.

So when are you going to tire of these cascade games and lay your
theory of everything on us?

I have issues being labeled "weird".

Why is that, ah thole?


*ribbet*
--
ah

ah lexa wrote:
Michael Baldwin, Bruce wrote:
Weird ah Yankovich wrote:
Double-Anus wrote:
ah wrote:
mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote:
In article ,
ah wrote:

mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote:
In article ,
ah wrote:

mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote:
In article ,
ah wrote:

Phil Kyle wrote:
ah verbally sodomised in
:

Phil Kyle wrote:
ah verbally sodomised in
:

Phil Kyle wrote:
ah verbally sodomised in
:

Phil Kyle wrote:
The Very Tim verbally sodomised in
:

wrote:
Okay timt your on today hope you come though don't mess up.

here we go


......mindless snippage of important set-up material.....

This is the third reading from the book of Timt of Clay
(Timt this is yours)

Ahem ahem. Well, I'll give it a shot, even if it's only to
provide
Little Kill Phyle Clam with something to babble about, (now
that
he has been converted to a full-fledged and totally devoted
a.b.c.
Lurker `(

(I know you're devoted little buddy, because I'm not
cross-posting
this stuff, so you have! to come into the Bay to read it. Come
on
now, admit it. You like! it here. And we like you! to like it
here. But I digress.)

Little Kill Phyle Clam looked about to see if any of the
regular
bad.clams had noticed him yet. (They hadn't, of course)

He had tried using bad words and evil aspersions to earn the
respect
of the denizens of Beautiful Mollusc Bay, but alas, he was
being
ignored far and wide and hither and yonder and everywhere else
he
stuck his little siphon in, with his pitiable pleas for
attention.

"Will they never take pity on me?" thought Little Kill Phyle
Clam,
"Can't they see that I, too, am remarkably clever and astoot?
(even if my speling does stink a bit) How can I earn their
attention and high regard, I wonder?" But the clams noticed
him
not a whit.


Far greater concerns concerned the clams of the noble and
revered
Mollusc Bay. They had a SuperNova Sun Clam Wrath(tm) with
which to
contend. The clams were watching the skies in hopes of an
impending victory over whatever was out there.

They already had! cleverness and beauty galore, and wisdom and
wit
to spare. But they lacked a gooey, muddy material with which
to
build wonderful things and arty facts. Whatever could they do?

A dark calm came over the bay, and the clouds parted for a
nonce
or two..

"Let there be CLAY!" roared the golden voice of the
silver-tongued
ClamLord.

And suddenly, there was clay; not merely a lump of clay,
but a
giant
lump of clay with a large cave inside. A cave of clay, as they
say.

"Hmmm." thought Timt, (out loud) "what a swell place to sit
and
mediate for a while. It has relatively waterproof walls, and
while
not exactly fireproof, these walls can! convert themselves to
the
finest stoneware ramparts and crenellations and suchwhats.
Perhaps
I shall make my muddy headquarters here."

And that is precisely what he did. He sat in the middle of a
puddle of
mud and clay and began to create. Oh what a mess that clam
made!

First, he annoyed the hangers-on by welcoming them to the
Bay.
(Truth
be told, there was only 1 new hanger-on, but the prevailing
exchange rate did take into account multiple personalities, so
that one counts as many for the purposes of this telling.)
Then,
he tweaked their pointy little nose by not! reading any of
their
posts or follow-ups.

And frankly, (no relation) all they did post were
follow-ups,
usually
with dirty words included since those who have no proper ideas
and
words of interest to post are frequently confined to defining
themselfs by using only dirty words and intended-to-be hurtful
phrases because that is all their mommy ever gave them with
which
to work. And so they did.

They typed furiously into the night, trying with great
desperation
to get some attention from the lordly and quiet-as-ever clams
of
Beautiful Mollusc Bay.

Yet still, it did not work for them. Only the Mighty ClamLord
could impress the geoducks and pseudopods of the bay. Only he
had
the magic ingredient required to attract the attention of the
clams. Only the ClamLord had imagination enough to spare and
daring enough to share. And only ClamLord gave a care for the
regularity of clam posts. (heavy sigh)

He posted like a covered wagon on fire rolling across the
prairie
at the height of drought season. And his words did spread.
They
did spread mightily and far-ly too. (not Farley Mowatt, just
far-ly too.)

And Timt looked out upon the confusion which he had created,
and
said, "I sure hope this pleases the ClamLord, (and annoys his
serf-clam bad.clam wannabees.) For lo!, it pleaseth me!" And
he
winkethed. `(

And with that, the Mighty Timt closed his eyes and ruminated
in
his
rapidly feebling mind, on the awe and question marks that
would
shortly show themselves in the eyes of the Bay's newest
hanger-on.

Welcome a broad, little Kill Phyle. Now that you are here,
let's
see
how long it takes you to settle in and become a true bad.clam.


And with that, the clam Mass ended as abruptly (and
peacefully)
as it
had begun. And again the voice of the golden-voiced one rang
out
over the Bay. It said, this mass has ended go in peace and
be
clammy

todays gift: free clay from the cave


TimT (as in, "There you go clams. don't track it into the
cave,
okay?" `(


Yup.


Yup.

Yup.


Yup.


Yup.


Yup.

Yup.

Yup.

ay-yup

You from Maine?

ay-nope

VT?

*looks at globe*

I've always wanted to do a real-time comparison of the clock/counter-clock
vortex phenomenon . . . maybe if I petitioned CSIRO and MIT?
--
ah


Sounds like there might be a grant in that for you.

So when are you going to tire of these cascade games and lay your
theory of everything on us?

I have issues being labeled "weird".

Why is that, ah thole?

*ribbet*

Did you croak?

dishonestjohn wrote:
"Michael Baldwin, Bruce" wrote in message
oups.com...
ah lexa wrote:
Michael Baldwin, Bruce wrote:
Weird ah Yankovich wrote:
Double-Anus wrote:
ah wrote:
mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote:
In article ,
ah wrote:

mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote:
In article
,
ah wrote:

mariposas rand mair fheal greykitten tomys des anges wrote:
In article
,
ah wrote:

Phil Kyle wrote:
ah verbally sodomised in
:

Phil Kyle wrote:
ah verbally sodomised in

:

Phil Kyle wrote:
ah verbally sodomised in

:

Phil Kyle wrote:
The Very Tim verbally sodomised
in
:

wrote:
Okay timt your on today hope you come though
don't mess up.

here we go


......mindless snippage of important set-up
material.....

This is the third reading from the book of Timt
of Clay
(Timt this is yours)

Ahem ahem. Well, I'll give it a shot, even if
it's only to
provide
Little Kill Phyle Clam with something to babble
about, (now
that
he has been converted to a full-fledged and
totally devoted
a.b.c.
Lurker `(

(I know you're devoted little buddy, because I'm
not
cross-posting
this stuff, so you have! to come into the Bay to
read it. Come
on
now, admit it. You like! it here. And we like
you! to like it
here. But I digress.)

Little Kill Phyle Clam looked about to see if
any of the
regular
bad.clams had noticed him yet. (They hadn't, of
course)

He had tried using bad words and evil
aspersions to earn the
respect
of the denizens of Beautiful Mollusc Bay, but
alas, he was
being
ignored far and wide and hither and yonder and
everywhere else
he
stuck his little siphon in, with his pitiable
pleas for
attention.

"Will they never take pity on me?" thought
Little Kill Phyle
Clam,
"Can't they see that I, too, am remarkably
clever and astoot?
(even if my speling does stink a bit) How can I
earn their
attention and high regard, I wonder?" But the
clams noticed
him
not a whit.


Far greater concerns concerned the clams of the
noble and
revered
Mollusc Bay. They had a SuperNova Sun Clam
Wrath(tm) with
which to
contend. The clams were watching the skies in
hopes of an
impending victory over whatever was out there.

They already had! cleverness and beauty galore,
and wisdom and
wit
to spare. But they lacked a gooey, muddy
material with which
to
build wonderful things and arty facts. Whatever
could they do?

A dark calm came over the bay, and the clouds
parted for a
nonce
or two..

"Let there be CLAY!" roared the golden voice
of the
silver-tongued
ClamLord.

And suddenly, there was clay; not merely a
lump of clay,
but a
giant
lump of clay with a large cave inside. A cave of
clay, as they
say.

"Hmmm." thought Timt, (out loud) "what a
swell place to sit
and
mediate for a while. It has relatively
waterproof walls, and
while
not exactly fireproof, these walls can! convert
themselves to
the
finest stoneware ramparts and crenellations and
suchwhats.
Perhaps
I shall make my muddy headquarters here."

And that is precisely what he did. He sat in
the middle of a
puddle of
mud and clay and began to create. Oh what a mess
that clam
made!

First, he annoyed the hangers-on by welcoming
them to the
Bay.
(Truth
be told, there was only 1 new hanger-on, but the
prevailing
exchange rate did take into account multiple
personalities, so
that one counts as many for the purposes of this
telling.)
Then,
he tweaked their pointy little nose by not!
reading any of
their
posts or follow-ups.

And frankly, (no relation) all they did post
were
follow-ups,
usually
with dirty words included since those who have
no proper ideas
and
words of interest to post are frequently
confined to defining
themselfs by using only dirty words and
intended-to-be hurtful
phrases because that is all their mommy ever
gave them with
which
to work. And so they did.

They typed furiously into the night, trying with
great
desperation
to get some attention from the lordly and
quiet-as-ever clams
of
Beautiful Mollusc Bay.

Yet still, it did not work for them. Only the
Mighty ClamLord
could impress the geoducks and pseudopods of the
bay. Only he
had
the magic ingredient required to attract the
attention of the
clams. Only the ClamLord had imagination enough
to spare and
daring enough to share. And only ClamLord gave a
care for the
regularity of clam posts. (heavy sigh)

He posted like a covered wagon on fire rolling
across the
prairie
at the height of drought season. And his words
did spread.
They
did spread mightily and far-ly too. (not Farley
Mowatt, just
far-ly too.)

And Timt looked out upon the confusion which he
had created,
and
said, "I sure hope this pleases the ClamLord,
(and annoys his
serf-clam bad.clam wannabees.) For lo!, it
pleaseth me!" And
he
winkethed. `(

And with that, the Mighty Timt closed his eyes
and ruminated
in
his
rapidly feebling mind, on the awe and question
marks that
would
shortly show themselves in the eyes of the Bay's
newest
hanger-on.

Welcome a broad, little Kill Phyle. Now that
you are here,
let's
see
how long it takes you to settle in and become a
true bad.clam.


And with that, the clam Mass ended as abruptly
(and
peacefully)
as it
had begun. And again the voice of the
golden-voiced one rang
out
over the Bay. It said, this mass has ended go
in peace and
be
clammy

todays gift: free clay from the cave


TimT (as in, "There you go clams. don't track it
into the
cave,
okay?" `(


Yup.


Yup.

Yup.


Yup.


Yup.


Yup.

Yup.

Yup.

ay-yup

You from Maine?

ay-nope

VT?

*looks at globe*

I've always wanted to do a real-time comparison of the
clock/counter-clock
vortex phenomenon . . . maybe if I petitioned CSIRO and MIT?
--
ah


Sounds like there might be a grant in that for you.

So when are you going to tire of these cascade games and lay your
theory of everything on us?

I have issues being labeled "weird".

Why is that, ah thole?

*ribbet*

Did you croak?

It won't be long!

So youz k'lame!