GAME: Tom Swiftys
"BTW, has Kilgore Trout conceeded defeat ?" he asked, toe-ing the waters of the ol toe-man schtick.
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* Pronounced "conceited D{sized} feet"
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* Pronounced "conceited D{sized} feet"
“One would believe that Mr. Fish would have a myriad of Tom Swifts yet to post,â€
If ye love wealth better than liberty, the tranquility of servitude than the animating contest of freedom, go from us in peace. We ask not your counsels or arms. Crouch down and lick the hands which feed you. May your chains sit lightly upon you,
S Adams
S Adams
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Kilgore Trout
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- Location: Currently on holiday on Tralfamadore
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Kilgore Trout
- Scholar Adept
- Posts: 1288
- Joined: Thu Aug 07, 2003 10:12 pm
- Location: Currently on holiday on Tralfamadore
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Kilgore Trout
- Scholar Adept
- Posts: 1288
- Joined: Thu Aug 07, 2003 10:12 pm
- Location: Currently on holiday on Tralfamadore
"If that outfit was any tighter, you'd explode out of it, hon !" he fulminated* in agreement.
"Incidentally, they're called 'Rabbits' here in America, not 'Hassenfeffer'." he added, splitting linguistic hares.
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* That's a chemical joke on Mercuric Fulminate, a common (but obsolete) explosive.
"Incidentally, they're called 'Rabbits' here in America, not 'Hassenfeffer'." he added, splitting linguistic hares.
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* That's a chemical joke on Mercuric Fulminate, a common (but obsolete) explosive.
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Kilgore Trout
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- Joined: Thu Aug 07, 2003 10:12 pm
- Location: Currently on holiday on Tralfamadore
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Kilgore Trout
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- Joined: Thu Aug 07, 2003 10:12 pm
- Location: Currently on holiday on Tralfamadore
"You've forgotten I'm already pregnant," she brooded. Why he was concerned about her period, she could not conceive.
"Fantasy abandoned by reason produces impossible monsters; united with her, she is the mother of the arts and the origin of their marvels." -- Francisco Goya: Epigraph to Los Caprichos, 1970
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Kilgore Trout
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- Location: Currently on holiday on Tralfamadore
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Kilgore Trout
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"Tonite, my Dear, we shall dine on Die Fledermaus", he crooned in an operatic tone.
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Kilgore Trout
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{sings}
I'm in the mood for blood
Simply because it's near me
Funny, but when it's near me
(I'm in the mood for blood)
Feral red is in your eyes
Bright as the moon we're under
Oh, is it any wonder?
(I'm in the mood for Blood)
(Why stop to think of whether)
(This little dream might fade?)
(Let's put our hearts together)
Now we are one, I'm not afraid
If there's a bat above
If it should fall we'll eat it
But, for tonight, forget it
(I'm in the mood for blood)
(Why stop to think of whether)
(This little dream might fade?)
(Let's put our hearts together)
Now we are one, I'm not afraid
If there's a bat above
If it should fall we'll eat it
But, for tonight, forget it
I'm in the mood
Hope you're in the mood
For blood
... he sang, sanguinely, in a fugue of black {pud} humor.
I'm in the mood for blood
Simply because it's near me
Funny, but when it's near me
(I'm in the mood for blood)
Feral red is in your eyes
Bright as the moon we're under
Oh, is it any wonder?
(I'm in the mood for Blood)
(Why stop to think of whether)
(This little dream might fade?)
(Let's put our hearts together)
Now we are one, I'm not afraid
If there's a bat above
If it should fall we'll eat it
But, for tonight, forget it
(I'm in the mood for blood)
(Why stop to think of whether)
(This little dream might fade?)
(Let's put our hearts together)
Now we are one, I'm not afraid
If there's a bat above
If it should fall we'll eat it
But, for tonight, forget it
I'm in the mood
Hope you're in the mood
For blood
... he sang, sanguinely, in a fugue of black {pud} humor.
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Kilgore Trout
- Scholar Adept
- Posts: 1288
- Joined: Thu Aug 07, 2003 10:12 pm
- Location: Currently on holiday on Tralfamadore
"Why Mr. Naden, you are as romantic as the day we married," said Sara. "Would you sing me another song?"
But alas, he deferred, as he was late for work and had little time for Sara Naden.
But alas, he deferred, as he was late for work and had little time for Sara Naden.
"Fantasy abandoned by reason produces impossible monsters; united with her, she is the mother of the arts and the origin of their marvels." -- Francisco Goya: Epigraph to Los Caprichos, 1970
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Kilgore Trout
- Scholar Adept
- Posts: 1288
- Joined: Thu Aug 07, 2003 10:12 pm
- Location: Currently on holiday on Tralfamadore
"Very well, you can sing to me later. Off to work with you now, while I whip up a blood gravy for this bat," she said saucily.
"Fantasy abandoned by reason produces impossible monsters; united with her, she is the mother of the arts and the origin of their marvels." -- Francisco Goya: Epigraph to Los Caprichos, 1970