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Location: Great Boreal Deciduous Hardwood Forest, New England, United States

old dude, all hair, swell new teeth

31 May 2005

Bear-baiting, FISH-SHOOTING, cockfighting too!

It's Sports Time on Vleeptron!
All the Sports from Vleeptron!
We've got the latest Qx'ii scores!
All the games from the Dwingeloo League!
Bear-baiting, fish-shooting, cockfighting too!
Bare-knuckle boxing from 1902!
A fifth of our Sports all take place in the Zoo!
Get your Sports on Vleeptron!
Get your Sports on Vleeptron!

From: MSN NicknamePoliSci_101 (Original Message)
Sent: 5/13/2005 5:10 PM

dumb fucking rednecks

Stow the rods, break out the rifles

Spring fish shooting cherished tradition in rural Vermont

Pam Belluck, New York Times

Tuesday, May 11, 2005

St. Albans Bay, Vt. -- The hunter's prey darted into the shadows, just out of reach of Henry Demar's gun.

"Come on, stand up and be counted," Demar muttered. "There was a ripple that came out of the weeds. There's something out there."

Dressed in camouflage, gripping his .357 Magnum, Demar was primed to shoot. But this time, no such luck. With a flick of its tail, his quarry -- a slick, silvery fish -- was gone.

Fish shooting is a sport in Vermont, and every spring, hunters break out their artillery -- high-caliber pistols, shotguns, even AK-47s -- and head to the marshes to exercise their right to bear arms against fish.

It is a controversial pastime, and Vermont's fish and wildlife regulators have repeatedly tried to ban it. They call it unsportsmanlike and dangerous, warning that a bullet striking water can ricochet across the water like a skipping stone.

But fish shooting has survived, a cherished tradition for some Vermont families and a novelty to some young people. Every spring, fixated fish hunters climb into trees overhanging the water or perch on the banks of marshes that lace Lake Champlain, on Vermont's northwest border.

"They call us crazy, I guess, to go sit in a tree and wait for fish to come out," said retired locomotive engineer Dean Paquette, 66, as he struggled to describe the fish-shooting rush. "It's something that once you've done it . . ."

There is art, or at least science, to shooting fish, aficionados say. Most fish hunters do not want to shoot the actual fish, because then "you can't really eat them," Paquette said. "They just kind of shatter."

Instead, said Demar, "you try to shoot just in front of the fish's nose or head." The bullet torpedoes to the marsh bottom and creates "enough concussion that it breaks the fish's air bladder, and it floats to the surface. "

Permitted from March 25 to May 25, and only on Lake Champlain, fish shooting has probably existed for a century.

Virginia used to have several fish-shooting areas, said Alan Weaver, a fish biologist with Virginia Department of Game and Inland Fisheries. Today, Weaver said, the only place is the Clinch River in remote Scott County, where, six weeks a year, people can shoot bottom-feeders like "quill-back suckers and red-horse suckers." Virginia is the only other state where fish shooting is still legal, Vermont officials said.

In 1969, fish and wildlife officials in New York and Vermont banned fish shooting. But Vermonters were loath to sever the primal link between fish and firearms, so in 1970, the Legislature not only reinstated the sport, it also added fish like carp and shad to the target list, bringing the number to 10.

Since then, there have been several efforts to stop fish shooting, also called fish hunting (since it requires a hunting license) or pickerel shooting (although the main target is northern pike, a pickerel cousin). But they have been stopped by noisy objections from a small but dedicated bunch.

Hunters like Demar, 45, joined recently by his half brother, Calvin Rushford, 56, and Calvin's 9-year-old grandson, Cody, say they make sure that their bullets hit the water no more than 10 feet from where they stand. That way, said Rushford, who like Demaris is a disabled former construction worker, "you'll have no problem because the bullet won't ricochet."

Indeed, state officials say they know of no gunshot injuries from the sport.

State officials also say that fish shooting disturbs nesting birds and that killing spawning females could endanger the northern pike population (although so far there is no evidence it has).

Worst of all, state officials say, many shooters do not retrieve all the fish they kill. They leave behind fish they cannot find or do not want to wade after and fish that exceed the state's five-pike-a-day limit or fall under the 20-inch minimum length for northern pike.

First Previous 2-15 of 15 Next Last
Recommend Message 2 of 15 in Discussion
From: MSN NicknameSteppenw00lfeSent: 5/13/2005 5:13 PM
What's that brown spot in your piko undies!

Recommend Message 3 of 15 in Discussion
From: MSN NicknamePoliSci_101Sent: 5/13/2005 5:13 PM
Huh? What's that vacant shit coming from your brain?

Recommend Message 4 of 15 in Discussion
From: MSN NicknameSteppenw00lfeSent: 5/13/2005 5:18 PM
I nominate Poli as our new Spam Queen! Can we have a man second the motion?

Recommend Message 5 of 15 in Discussion
From: MSN NicknameConservative_TorontoSent: 5/13/2005 5:25 PM
What's this topic got to do with Canadian Politics and Issues?
What's this topic got to do with...anything?

Recommend Message 6 of 15 in Discussion
From: MSN NicknamePoliSci_101Sent: 5/13/2005 6:10 PM
Oh, and no one has ever posted anything unrelated to politics?

Recommend Message 7 of 15 in Discussion
From: MSN NicknameAnji Sent: 5/13/2005 6:16 PM

Indeed they have... often. I actually like this post. I've never heard of fish shooting... this entertains me


The number of members that recommended this message. 0 recommendations Message 8 of 15 in Discussion
Sent: 5/13/2005 6:50 PM

This message has been deleted by the author.


Recommend Message 9 of 15 in Discussion
From: MSN NicknameSteppenw00lfe Sent: 5/13/2005 6:52 PM

Poli is the weirdo who doesn't like guns or democracy?


Recommend Message 10 of 15 in Discussion
From: MSN NicknameFlat_Paul Sent: 5/13/2005 7:57 PM

What is your point PoliRat?
Are you afraid of people owning guns?
If so why?


Recommend Message 11 of 15 in Discussion
From: MSN NicknameLargs® Sent: 5/13/2005 8:14 PM

I think I might be afraid of someone who goes fishing with a .357 magnum.


Recommend Message 12 of 15 in Discussion
From: MSN NicknameNorthernprospector1 Sent: 5/13/2005 8:25 PM

When I want to stock the larder my favourite way to fish is a stick of powder (dynamite) with a short fuse. Sumpin like shooting fish in a barrel.


Recommend Message 13 of 15 in Discussion
From: Sitsonsix Sent: 5/13/2005 8:39 PM
"dumb fucking rednecks"

No kidding. It's difficult to find a state that votes more solidly for the Democrats.


Recommend Message 14 of 15 in Discussion
From: MSN NicknameRedneck_Dave Sent: 5/13/2005 8:52 PM

Who is slandering rednecks?



Recommend Message 15 of 15 in Discussion
From: MSN NicknameFlat_Paul Sent: 5/14/2005 12:09 PM

Don't forget the nets Prospector, otherwise they could swim away on ya!

First Previous 2-15 of 15 Next Last

last gunfight on Vleeptron

One day we were out hunting, and came upon a dreadful sight: the corpses of two young men hanging from a tree. I asked my host why they had been hanged. He explained that these young men had taken a voyage to a far-away land, and had then returned to their homeland, and had told many lies, false stories, and exaggerations about what they had seen and done on their voyage. This discovered by the authorities, they were immediately condemned to death. Sad though the hanged men were to see, I fully agreed with this wise and just action. There is no worse crime than to lie about the people and the goings-on in foreign lands, and about one's own activities while on one's foreign travels.

-- Baron von Munchausen
first and only European to travel to the Moon (1745)

Okay, that's all I have to say about the despicable sin and crime of making up whoppers about your travels overseas and overtrees and to other Planets, because I have just returned from a brief fishing trip in Quebec, and now must barbecue the sturgeon I caught in Reserve La Vérendrye,
as soon as the helicopter lowers it into my backyard. I love to fish, and SWMBO loves to clean every fish I bring home. She's going to love cleaning this sturgeon! 9.2 meters! 340.19 kilograms! And I absolutely LOVE sturgeon! There is no more delicious fish in the world! It tastes a little bit like whooping crane or American Heritage Girl.

And a mature, 130-year-old sturgeon isn't easy to catch! They're ferocious! Twice the fish pulled ME out of the canoe, dragged me to the bottom of Lac Savary, and tried to marinate me with soy sauce and Worcestershire! Fortunately my many years of fish-shooting in Vermont -- sorry, season just ended -- had taught me always to carry a Glock in my creel, and I emptied a full clip into the sturgeon's brain, barely saving my life. It could have gone the other way, and the sturgeon could now be blogging about the 65.77-kilogram Yankee asshat he caught the other day!

Did you read the transcript of my IRC relapse yesterday? If you are not IRCish, you may have had several questions about it.

1. Why is everybody on the chatroom called #london speaking Turkish?

2. Why do the @Ops on #london let people natter on endlessly in Turkish, but kicer touts les Youths et jeunes filles qui parlent en francaise?

I don't know. And I don't care. I just wanted to know what the telephone Country Code of the USA is, and a very nice Turkish gentleman was happy to tell me (001).

When The Brother of the President of the United States, Neil Bush, travels to Asia as a representative of the semiconductor industry, why do beautiful young Asian women knock on his hotel room door late at night and demand to play Hide the Salami with him for hours, and all for free? In sworn legal documents associated with The Mother of All Nasty Divorces, the brother of one President and the son of another President testified that he also didn't know why this frequently happened to him in five-star Asian hotels, and he probably didn't care, either.

There are just some mysteries you can never solve. Suck it up.

When I first entered chatroom #london, I introduced myself this way:

[Droog4] Greeting English people in London! It is I, a Wild Colonial Boy! And I have a Question!

People from Foreign Lands who only know America by its fine exported television programmes know much about day-to-day Life in These United States, and, on Internet Relay Chat, frequently ask me what kind of machine-gun and automatic pistol I prefer (Uzi, Glock), and how many grizzly bears (Ursus horribilis) I have wrestled (four). And this brings me to another matter which arose during my IRC relapse:

[dowset] if fight agains a bear one time
[dowset] it was freak

* morocco26msn has quit IRC (Quit)
[dowset] i caught up my arm with is claw

3. Do you believe this Quebecer Punque Youth really rassled a bar? Or

4. Should Crown Prosecutors in Ottawa promptly make the Quebecer Youth into le Pendu, to discourage other Canadiennes from telling total bullshit whoppers about their manly adventures in the wilderness of Northern Quebec to ignorant Yankee asshats on IRC?

Please leave the Comment, Share Your Feelings with Vleeptron on this important question. (He also said he only does it doggy-style with young Anglophone girls, probably your younger sister.) Nonetheless, I know for a fact that he was being perfectly honest about the Free Marihuana available throughout the wonderful Province du Quebec, for I have visited this land many times (J'habite 6 heurs sud du Montreal!). This agribusiness resource (Cannabis sativa, Cannabis indica, Cannabis bcbud) is grown and harvested by Quebecer Biquers (les Cousins Distants du Satan) who stand along the highways and distribute it to passing American tourists. When I try to pay them, they say: "Votre U$ Dollar, c'est pas desiree ici, mon ami! Bon voyage!"

Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah. It is I, your Wild Colonial Boy.

For at least 300 years, Americans travelling to Europe have gotten laid and Free Room & Board (music and washing extra) by putting on a Wild Colonial Boy freak show, and pretending to be the Living Breathing 3D Embodiment of every Fantastical Outlandish Thing TV-watching and Cineastique Europeanaisies expect an American to be.

During our War of Independence from Britain, Benjamin Franklin was the Rebels' first diplomatic emissary to France. This was an important diplomatic mission. The Rebels desperately needed help from abroad. George Washington was the commander of a few thousand peasant farmers whose educational backgrounds were so Lite that they didn't know their Left Foot from their Right Foot, so their first professional military drillmaster, Baron von Steuben, tied hay to their left feet and straw to their right feet, and drilled them this way:

(repeat 3291 times, then collapse)

because every one of his Continental Army soldiers knew perfectly well the difference between hay and straw. (I don't. If you do, please Leave a Comment. Also I could use a little help with The Offsides Rule, and my crappy free Hello image blog software which only lets me post images of raw sausages.)

Franklin was afflicted with a common medical disorder: the heartbreak of satyriasis. This tragic genetic ailment, located exclusively on the Y Chromosome, compelled this happily married man, with a wife back home in Philadelphia, with the kids, against his will (women may Leave a Comment) to fuck every attractive young woman in Paris, Lyons, Calais, Montpelier, Limoges, and he would have travelled to Cannes for a little of the old in-out at le Fête, but motion pictures and Brigitte Bardot had not yet been invented. If only he had lived long enough to take a spin through Time on the Heathkit Vacuum-Tube Ungrounded Plug TM-212 Time Machine, he could have banged Ursula Andress while she was filming "She" (Who Must Be Obeyed), if he was wearing the coonskin cap. (See next paragraph. Women may also Leave a Comment to explain this coonskin cap Hot Thing to Bob, he Just Doesn't Get It. If this silly headgear makes you so excited, maybe a few of you could wear them, then maybe I could grok this thing better.)

Often 50-year-old fat bald male diplomats on a government expense account have difficulty Becoming Their Dreams, and have to resort to tricks and deceit. Franklin used the old Wild Colonial Boy dodge. He actually wore a raccoon-skin cap (long before Davy Crockett and slightly before Daniel Boone) as he went on his diplomatic rounds in Paris and Versailles, and all the women of Paris just plotzed. The rest of his get-up was equally outlandish a la The Last of the Mohicans and total bullshit. The guy ran a printing shop in Philadelphia (he invented the Franklin Press) and spent most of his time sitting at his desk writing -- an ur-Computer Nerd -- which is how he got corpulent as middle age set in.

But in Paris, in the raccoon cap, with the small discreet tomahawk tucked in his beaded Native-American wampum belt (from Sid's Mountain Man Outfitters, 71 Olde Schuykill Street, Philadelphia), Franklin had to beat les jeunes filles off with the tomahawk, they were ripping at his deerskin trousers as if he were Daniel Day Lewis or Tom Cruise.

You wouldn't think this Fête du Troilisme Parisienne was likely to assist in the success of his desperate diplomatic mission, but actually America owes its Freedom to Franklin's incurable satyriasis. His many Satisfied Customeusses (and Viagra would not be invented for another two centuries) whispered Tee-Hee and What A Guy and God Bless l'Amerique into the annoyed ears of their husbands, brothers, Grandes Ducs, Princes, and eventually le Roi himself, until the King of France (Louis the Decapitated) reluctantly and grudgingly granted Wild Colonial Franklin an audience. (This took a couple of years. But Franklin had kielbasa stuph to do across town to keep l'ennui at bay.)

Free At Last, several famous 19th-Century American men pulled the same scam in London, getting fancy free dinners at castles and mansions every night merely by promising to appear dressed up in the outlandish regalia of Wild Bill Hickock, Buffalo Bill Cody, Wyatt Earp, and Dead-Eye Leon Saperstein (yes, there WERE!!!! real authentic Jewish Cowboys in the Wild West).

And I confess, a few times on my extended Wanderlust adventures through Europe, when I have been running low on cash and the ATMs have stopped talking to me, I, too, have strapped on my Colt .45 pearl-handled engraved six-shooters, donned my Ten-Gallon Hat, my chaps, and my Gram Parsons Acid Country cowboy boots, to give a Wild Colonial Boy Thrill to rich, dumb Londoners. The squab and l'homarde were exquisite, the champagne -- wow! -- and (I was an Unsupervised Bachelor at the time) I got my ashes hauled after dinner.

Okay, I have to take the trash to the Solid Waste Landfill now, enough of this bullshit. Here's the song, the terrible, violent last gunfight on Vleeptron. It dates from 19th Century Australia, but I'm pretty sure there was also an earlier American Colonial Version. This is still a beloved authentic traditional Irish folk song, from the days when all the young folks had to leave Ireland and go off to The New World because every Irish person was starving to death during the Potato Famine. (And the population went UP! Nothing to eat, and the population went UP!!! Malthus was RIGHT!!!!)

Okay, so the guy wasn't a cowboy. Big fucking deal, sue me. Or better yet, bite me, asshat. Go rassle a grizzly bar.

{ [ ( o ) ] }

The Wild Colonial Boy
traditional Irish
(don't look for a crappy MIDI, Irish folksongs MUST ONLY BE PLAYED BY Seán Keane | Dave Fallon | Michael Tubridy | Peadar Mercier | Kevin Conneff! I'm sure they cover this sucker, this is a famous, famous Irish standard played at every Baptism, Wake, Rebellion and Bar Mitzvah in Eire. They played it at Billy Annyas' Bar Mitzvah, they played it at Otto Yaffe's. They were the hired band at Bobby Briscoe's Bar Mitzvah, and then again at little Ben Briscoe's Bar Mitzvah, and at Gerry Goldberg's, too!)

There was a Wild Colonial Boy,
Jack Doolan was his name,
Of poor but honest parents
He was born in Castlemaine.
He was his father's only hope,
His mother's pride and joy
And dearly did his parents love
The Wild Colonial Boy.

So come away me hearties
We'll roam the mountains high,
Together we will plunder
And together we will die.
We'll scour along the valleys
And we'll gallop o'er the plains,
And scorn to live in slavery,
Bound down by iron chains.

At the age of sixteen years
He started out to roam,
Stowed away and reached Australia
Which he chose to make his home.
They put him in an iron gang
In the government employ,
But never an iron on earth could hold
The Wild Colonial Boy.


Forsaking means of honest toil
To earn his daily bread
There on Australia's sunny shores,
A bushranger life he led.
To help the poor, he robbed the rich,
A pistol was his toy,
With which he slew a man or two,
The Wild Colonial Boy.


In 'Sixty-One this daring youth
Commenced his wild career,
With a heart that knew no danger
And no foeman did he fear.
He stuck up the Beechworth mail coach
And robbed Judge MacEvoy
Who, trembling cold, gave up his gold
To the Wild Colonial Boy.


He bade the judge good morning
And he told him to beware,
That he'd never rob a needy man
Or one who acted square,
But a judge who'd rob a mother
Of her one and only joy
Sure, he must be a worse outlaw than
The Wild Colonial Boy.


One day as Jack was riding
The mountain side along,
A-listening to the little birds,
Their happy laughing song.
Three mounted troopers came along,
Kelly, Davis and Fitzroy
With a warrant for the capture of
The Wild Colonial Boy.


"Surrender now! Jack Doolan,
For you see it's three to one;
Surrender in the Queen's own name,
For the plund'ring deeds you've done!"
Jack drew a pistol from his side
And waved it like toy,
"I'll fight, but not surrender, cried
The Wild Colonial Boy.


He quickly turned to Davis,
And shot him through the thigh,
Then he took aim for Kelly's brain,
But missed the lucky guy.
The shot returned by Davis did
Not bring Jack any joy.
All shattered through the jaw he lay
The Wild Colonial Boy.


He fired at trooper Kelly
And brought him to the ground,
And in return from Davis
Received a mortal wound,
His proud young heart was torn apart
Still firing at Fitzroy.
And that's the way they captured him,
The Wild Colonial Boy.

30 May 2005

IRC relapse

This is long, but most of it is in Turkish, so unless you speak Turkish, you can skip over most of this.

If you weary of it and wish to leave, before leaving, please scroll down to the bottom and read the brief Private Chat between [Droog4] and [dowset]. Vleeptron thanks you for your cooperation, and sincerely believes you will be rewarded for Obeying Bob.

Happy Memorial Day. We celebrate and express our gratitude to our military Veterans on two national holidays. This is the one for the Veterans who are still alive. The other one is for The Dead Guys and Gals. This is My Holiday. I would have marched in the Florence, Massachusetts Memorial Day Parade, but my fucking little nephews found my uniform in the closet at my Mom's apartment, and she gave it to them to use as a Halloween Costume, and from there it vanished, perhaps a free clothing donation for the totally naked. (I still have my dogtags, no fucking little Trick-or-Treater is getting his grubby little hands on them.)

{ [ ( o ) ] }

* Now talking in #london
* Topic is 'support visit us @'
* Set by X on Mon May 30 12:23:28
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[Droog4] Greeting English people in London! It is I, a Wild Colonial Boy! And I have a Question!
* S-Edb3rg sets mode: -b *!*Bored@213.186.181.*
* Droog4 wiggles the tail on his raccoon skin cap
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* Droog4 for everyone's amusement in the Mother Country
[Droog4] Who will help a Wild Colonial Boy with his Question?
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[Luckyman_UK] depend on what the question is
[Droog4] It is in no way a Nasty Question, please help me either in Open or Pvt at your convenience and preference
[Droog4] hiya Luckyman!
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[Droog4] If you wish to telephone the United States of America (waves little flag) from UK, what is the Country Code you must use?
[Luckyman_UK] i think its 001
[Droog4] close enough for rock n roll, thanx
* Droog4 rassles with a grizzly bar
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* X sets mode: +l 115
[Droog4] also how's Marks & Spencer doing? (sighs with nostalgic longing)
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* Droog4 fondles his wonderful Marks & Spencer shirt, weeps
[TuRk^M^] hi all
* Luckyman_UK has quit IRC (Quit)
[TuRk^M^] hello room
[Droog4] yo Turk
[TuRk^M^] how are people ¿
[RainnMan] Keslan
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[RainnMan] Sanane türk mürk
[TuRk^M^] ¿
[RainnMan] mýnýza koyar
[TuRk^M^] okkkadar
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[ses-uk] hi all
* pahomi has joined #london
[RainnMan] ne diyo la bunlar
[RainnMan] :)
[RainnMan] öyle daha
[RainnMan] þimdi
[RainnMan] sussunlar
[TuRk^M^] hi [[ ses
[Droog4] hey Turk your ? is upside-down, can i help you fix it? also selam
[RainnMan] izlesinler
[RainnMan] nasýl muhabbet edilir
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[TuRk^M^] wealeykumselam
[TuRk^M^] 10x
[RainnMan] a.s
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[TuRk^M^] ok
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[RainnMan] Abi nerden
[TuRk^M^] 25 [ m ist TU®KEY
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[Droog4] wealeykumselam «-- what Turk said
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[TuRk^M^] 10x « Droog4
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[RainnMan] 16 m Samsun Tür©eY
[TuRk^M^] isim ¿
[Droog4] Turk how did Turkiye do in Eurovision Song Contest?
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* X sets mode: +l 116
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[RainnMan] kAdir
[RainnMan] habuna
[RainnMan] Ba
* S-Edb3rg sets mode: -bb *!*@ *!*@195.229.*
[RainnMan] Eurovision
[RainnMan] Diyo
[RainnMan] i am Sertab Erener
[Droog4] Diyo =? "it makes me vomit" ?
[RainnMan] Ne oldula sustun kaldýn
[RainnMan] i am AtheNa
[ses-uk] wher are u from Droog4?
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[RainnMan] uheuhe
* S-Edb3rg sets mode: +b *fuck*!*@*
* Fucking was kicked by S-Edb3rg (Banned: Nasty nick try changing)
[RainnMan] Gidersem bugün bu evden bu can bu hayat düþer gözümden
* Droog4 waves very large Red White & Blue Stars & Stripes Flag
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[Droog4] hi ses-uk
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[RainnMan] Ben sana Deli divane aþýðým
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[RainnMan] oðlum
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[RainnMan] sözlük yok
[RainnMan] MTu
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* heyz^_--away is now known as heyz^_-
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[Droog4] Hooray Hellas/Greece for winning Eurovision Song Contest in Kiev!!!
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[RainnMan] yesss
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VLEEPTRON FOOTNOTE: Please observe the Greek Guy and the Turkish Guy just chatting along in agreement, respect and peace. This is the Way of IRC. This is the Way of Vleeptron.

[TuRk^M^] yes win greece

[Aguilera] hi!
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[TuRk^M^] nice song
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[Droog4] So Contest will be in Athenai next year, 2006?
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[RainnMan] Yes
[TuRk^M^] yes
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[RainnMan] iyi söylediler ama hee
* Droog4 clicks on for early tickets USA - Athenai
[Aguilera] hi
[MrHyde] heya Aguilera.
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[Droog4] hi Aguilera!
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[Aguilera] What'zzz up??
[Lori`] hello
* Droog4 is being Silly, apologizes
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[MrHyde] heya Lori`.
[MrHyde] :)
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[dowset] You think I give a shit If you're a socialist If you're a capitalist We've all got to exist On this planet with nowhere to run The millions of brainwashed must open their eyes We are one
[MrHyde] hmm... what's up with X?
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[Lori`] szia MrHyde
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[Droog4] dowset -- whose Eurovision song was that?????
[MrHyde] uh, what?
[dowset] Eurovision?
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[Lori`] hungary pls...
[dowset] lol
* azz was kicked by X ((jkel) ass)
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[MrHyde] ok, there we go..
[Droog4] hahahaha
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* X sets mode: +o MrHyde
[dowset] :P
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[Droog4] that was not Eurovision song ... that was Youth Punk Rap!!!
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[dowset] youth punk rap
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[dowset] lol
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[dowset] make me laugh
[dowset] its nofx
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[Droog4] i hope milk comes through your nose when you laugh
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[dowset] you sure have hope for nothing usefull
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* Droog4 sings his favorite Eurovision 2005 Song thru your computer speakers: You're so pretty! I love you! I love you! I am happy! The sky is Sunny! Happy happy! Nice pretty people everywhere! (Portugal)
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[dowset] what is Eurovision ? a pop band from europe ?
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[dowset] are you listening at them ?
[Droog4] dowset, do you live on Pluto or Jupiter?
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[dowset] lol
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[dowset] maybe
[Droog4] well, IRC welcomes everyone
[dowset] is it good or it's suck ?
[dowset] eurovision
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[Droog4] Eurovision is a television network for about 50 countries, and once each year it has a Big Pop Song Contest
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[Droog4] it's suck
[Droog4] good question
[dowset] lol
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[Droog4] but it Sucks more than Anything Sucks in the Whole Wide World!
[dowset] and im supose to know about that
[dowset] hahaha
[Droog4] this is World-Class Sucks!
[dowset] lol
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[Droog4] you have never sucked anything that sucks like this
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[dowset] mmmmh exepte lollipop i dont suck many things
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[Droog4] okay dowset now you gotta tell us which Planet you live on that you never heard of Eurovision
[dowset] quebec
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[dowset] rimouski
[dowset] lol
[Droog4] salut mon ami! J'habite 6 heurs sud du Montreal!
[dowset] tu parle francais
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[dowset] mais jpense pas kici lmonde aime kon parle francais

(But I thought they kick everybody off this channel for speaking French)

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[attractiveey] hello
[Droog4] merci pour a creer k je parle francais, most francophones do not share your opinion
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[dowset] your staying in u-s ?
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[Droog4] i am not Just Staying, Monseiur! I am a Citoyen du les Etates-Unies!!!
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[ses-uk] :))
* Droog4 waves small American flag
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[Droog4] btw, patriotic holiday today in USA
[dowset] lol
[Droog4] banks closed
[dowset] wich cities
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[Droog4] ATM open then
[dowset] lol
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[dowset] i hope so
[Droog4] the Fete? EVERYWHERE!
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[Droog4] this is big-ass whomp ass patriotic holiday!
[dowset] have you listen the match against oceanic yesterday ?
[dowset] london/oceanic
[Droog4] ut-oh
[dowset] disapointing :|
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[Droog4] i lied, i am from Pluto. Quest-k-c'est Oceanique?
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[Droog4] football/soccer?
[dowset] a hockey team from rimouski quebec
[Droog4] HOCKEY!
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* Droog4 French-kisses Tim Horton
[dowset] they were playing against london for the memorial trophy
[dowset] they have lost 4-0
[dowset] lol
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[Droog4] Why do Canadians / Canadiennes do it doggy-style?
[dowset] juste with english girl
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[dowset] cuz they never do anything
[Droog4] So they can both watch the hockey game.
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[dowset] lol
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[elwan21] hey hý
* fallen`star bye
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[UmerShah] Backing from away! Away for: 48mins 17secs
[dowset] if fight agains a bear one time
[dowset] it was freak

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[dowset] i caught up my arm with is claw
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[Bogdyxx] hy all
* X sets mode: +l 113
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[TuRk^M^26TDI] hi all
[MicaSirena] 02) · +BadBoy20 · mersi
[MicaSirena] (20:02) · +BadBoy20 · :))
[MicaSirena] (20:02) · +dark-m · Fr3cky salve
[MicaSirena] (20:02) · +AngelForever · BadBoy20
[MicaSirena] (20:02) · +AngelForever · MicaSirena
[MicaSirena] (20:02) · +AngelForever · terminati
[MicaSirena] (20:02) · +AngelForever · amindoi
[MicaSirena] (20:02) · +BadBoy20 · :D
[MicaSirena] (20:03) · +BadBoy20 · i'm done
[MicaSirena] (20:03) · +dark-m · ia la dans
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[TuRk^M^26TDI] hello room
[@BB3k3r] hey u
[TuRk^M^26TDI] how are people ¿
[@BB3k3r] flooders
[@BB3k3r] shits.. damn it
[@BB3k3r] hi TuRk^M^26TDI
[@BB3k3r] silent
[@BB3k3r] :::::D
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[Bogdyxx] ce facetzi???
[@BB3k3r] Bogdyxx try english u muppet
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[Bogdyxx] i asked woh are you doing
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[Bogdyxx] how
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[@BB3k3r] aham
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[@BB3k3r] so so
[@BB3k3r] is damn quiet here u?
[Bogdyxx] so what?
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[Bogdyxx] where are you from?
[BraD_PiTT] i from istanbul
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[Bogdyxx] not you
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[@BB3k3r] hehehe
[Bogdyxx] you
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[TuRk^M^26TDI] [[[ 26 m Istanbul // TU®KEY
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[@BB3k3r] from raining europe
[BraD_PiTT] :)))
[Bogdyxx] me too
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[Bogdyxx] exactly
[BraD_PiTT] i am from istanbul
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[BraD_PiTT] bayrampaþa
[BraD_PiTT] me too
[@BB3k3r] england?
[TuRk^M^26TDI] slm BraD
[BraD_PiTT] selam naber
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[TuRk^M^26TDI] i
[TuRk^M^26TDI] senden ¿
[BraD_PiTT] bu ibneler benimle dalga geciyor..
[TuRk^M^26TDI] ewt
[BraD_PiTT] türkçe konuþyom diye..
[@BB3k3r] BraD_PiTT TuRk^M^26TDI please use english in main channel
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[TuRk^M^26TDI] ole yapar amýna koduklarm
[TuRk^M^26TDI] ok
[Bogdyxx] are you from england?
[BraD_PiTT] Amina Kodumu oðullari artislik yapiyorlar...
[@BB3k3r] TuRk^M^26TDI ru stupid or a blind muppet?
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~ a Private Chat ~

[Droog4] hey hey read my blog there is Stuph about Quebec in it somewhere if you can find it
[dowset] good
[Droog4] look for post: "touts les mots du Fermez les Honky-Tonks"
[Droog4] You know Val d'Or?
[dowset] yes
[Droog4] I heard the song on the AM radio at night near Val d'Or
[Droog4] shitkicker = Country & Western song en Quebecoise
[dowset] lol
[Droog4] comment dit on shitkicker en Quebecoise?
[dowset] botter la marde
[Droog4] hahahahahahahahahaahahahahahahaha lol rofl hahahahaha
[Droog4] j'aime cette
[Droog4] Quebec kix ass!
[dowset] quebec is a pretty weird place with lots off big fat "HABITANT" drinking beer and fucking everywhere with free marihuana
[dowset] :P
[Droog4] okay guess when i was in Montreal ...
[Droog4] driving thru the city, i look up at touts les billboards ...
[dowset] lol
[Droog4] all the billboard ditent: OUI! NON! NON! OUI! OUI! NON! NON!
[Droog4] btw France and Euro Constitution ... yesterday France ditent: NON!
No such nick

Up from the fœtid Comment Sewers of Vleeptron; Klezmer Rap; Roovayn the Singing Refusenik

Shabbat Shalom (time zone dependent) salaam shazam selam sh'boom sh'boom bonjour Ramadan Kareem Wie Gehts Merry Xmas ola hola buna salut privet konichi-wa sup & howdy! It's moi, Droog4, winner of the 2000 Nobel Chat Prize ("... for his ceaseless efforts to bring peace to the war-torn Balkans while sitting for hours every night at his computer ..."), with some sweet and sad stuph that was down in the fœtid and dark Comment Sewers of Vleeptron, where no one ever goes because it smells really nasty, like the Medieval Sewers of Prague.

IF YOU ARE REAL NICE TO MESHUGINEH BOB, later I will tell you about the Medieval Sewers of Prague. Surprisingly few tourists ever climb down the ladder into the Medieval Sewers of Prague. But Meshugineh Bob did. Because Bob knows what's down in the Medieval Sewers of Prague, and you don't. When I tell you what's down there, you will be buying a pair of Wellies (rubber sewer boots) and looking for cheap fares on .

But anyway I have rescued the following exchange from the fœtid Comment Sewers deep beneath the sweet-smelling clean sunny streets of Ciudad Vleeptron. The Comments have been slightly edited because Bob is a little on the anal-retentive side.

{ [ ( o ) ] }


DespicableTeacher said...


Do you know «The Klezmatics»? There is a song by them I find very moving 'An Undoing World':

a little of the lyrics:

Dispossession by attrition is a permanent condition
That the wretched modern world endures.

A refugee, who's running from the wars,
Hiding from the fire-bombs they've hurled;
Eternally a stranger out-of-doors,
Desperate in this undoing world.

This song was written 7 yrs ago I think, and yet nothing has changed!

9:24 AM

DespicableTeacher said...

Ohh I should say the words are by Pulitzer-Prize winner Tony Kushner.

9:25 AM

Bob Merkin said...

Bob knows the Klezmatics! But Bob didn't know they were winning Pulitzer Prizes. Bob will begin doing ear research immediately.

The local University of Massachusetts [ @ Amherst, home of the chain-link-fence Labyrinth with the beer cans and used condoms ] FM radio station has had a Jewish/Israeli music show for many years. The deejay changes -- except for me, and liberal arts graduate students, you can't stay in college forever. [For poetry and creative writing graduate students, you CAN stay in college forever! Choose your university major wisely!]

As John Belushi screamed in "Animal House" when he was expelled from 4-year liberal arts Faber College ["Knowledge Is Good"]:


He stole that scream from me.

Anyway one day I am listening to WMUA-FM and I keep hearing this Strange Mystery Noise. It sounds somehow familiar. But I have no idea what the singer is singing. Well, he's not singing. He's ... uhhh ... what the hell is he doing?

I telephone the student deejay. [ 413-545-FM91 ]

" :))) Hi! 'Matzoh Ball Soup' here!" says the adorable young ethnic musicologiste Heather Saperstein.

"Uhh ... is that ... No, it can't possibly be ... I'm sorry for the dumb question. Is that Hebrew rap? Israeli rap?"

" :))))) Yes! It is! I just got back from my vacation in Israel and I brought back all these Israeli rap CDs!"

"Okay. Uhhh ... I got a weird request. You can hang up if you want."

" :))) Okay, if I have it, I'll play it."

"Uhhh .. do you have any Refusenik music or Israeli anti-war music? You know ... pacifist kommie songs from contemporary Israel?"

(A Refusenik is a nice Jewish Israeli boy who refuses to put on the Paul Newman "Exodus" costume when he turns 18 and gets his draft notice. Shortly afterwards he goes to prison. Have a nice day.)

":))) Oh sure! I'll put it on when the rap is done!"

So anyway Shlomo finished rapping b'Ivrit, and then this young guy started singing. It was definitely folk-song acoustic guitar stuff.

My Ivrit sux, but actually I didn't have much trouble with the translation. In a mournful minor key, he was whining the following through his young nose:

??? shalom ??? shalom shalom ??? shalom ??? shalom shalom ??? shalom ... shalom ???? shalom shalom shalom ??? etc.

I think the song had something or other to do with Peace. It was rather sad. It was rather sweet. I'll bet Roovayn gets laid a lot. And also gets the crap beat out of him a lot.

6:25 AM

29 May 2005

More details of Vleeptron Plan for Middle East Salaam/Shalom

Perhaps the Vleeptron Ministry of Clever Plans is getting ahead of itself, and something Pat's Pub mentioned en passant illuminates this.

For several years, the BBC was, by Order of HM Government, forbidden from broadcasting the voice of Sinn Fein's Gerry Adams. (Sinn Fein is the barely-legal Political Wing of the Irish Republican Army, which is slightly less than legal.) So whenever Gerry Adams would make a very newsworthy (and loud) speech, BBC would have to hire an actor to read Adams' actual words. If Adams had said, "Sod the Brits," the BBC would broadcast the actor reciting: "Sod the Brits."

It was a Very Obviously Silly and Ridiculous Rule. Throughout the BBC-watching world, ordinary people were saying, "HM Government are dumb as rocks. Maybe they're drunk."

Now the Government of Lebanon has ruled that all Lebanese who own televisions cannot see the Eurovision Song Contest because, for 5 minutes, Baruch & the Checkpoint Guards will be singing their beloved smash entry, "I Love Your Hair, I Love Your Eyes, I Love Your Uzi." (Vleeptron will try to find the lyrics for this wonderful song of young Israeli romance.)

Throughout Lebanon, ordinary people and Termites are saying, "Our government is dumb as rocks. Maybe they're drunk. The Israeli song might make us go blind and deaf instantly, but why can't we see the other wonderful 19 hours of the Eurovision contest?"

World Peace begins when ordinary people and Termites think: "
Our government is dumb as rocks. Maybe they're drunk." (Beirut intellectuals have been thinking this for decades. Who cares? Who notices? What does it change? Who gives a flying fuck what intellectuals think?)

When too many ordinary people, in a democracy or a one-party totalitarian state, think "Our government is dumb as rocks, maybe they're drunk," the government changes. Or is forced, against its will, to do things which make it look a little smarter than rocks, and reasonably sober.

In this case, maybe the Lebanese Ministry of Asshats will grudgingly let Tele Liban broadcast next year's 5-minute Israeli piece of musical halvah. And for the first time, ordinary Lebanese Termites will get to see that ordinary Israelis are just as talentless and tasteless, and like to sing about the same Profound Issues, as Lebanese pop singers.

Two neighbor countries, few and ignored intellectuals, gazillions of Termites -- but maybe in 2006, the neighbors can peek over the fence for 5 minutes and see each other. The clown and clownette suits, the Fingernails-on-Blackboard songs and singing.

For a magical five minutes broadcast via satellite live from Athenai one year from now, Israel and Lebanon will see that their neighbors are just like them, just like us. This is Droog4's Silly Dream. This is how we do things on Vleeptron.

And from there ... maybe future historians can stop at The Fifty-Six Year War or the Fifty-Seven Year War. After the Armistice, Lebanon and Israel will attack one another by singing crappy pop songs to one another on TV.

That's the way most of Europe now wages war from Dublin to Brussels to Praha to Belgrade to Kiev to Istanbul.

Used to be different. Soldan & the Jannisaries. Wallenstein & His Standing Army. Napoleon & The Terror. Kaiser Wilhelm & The Western Front. Adolf & the Nazis. Joe Stalin & Zhukov. They couldn't sing pop songs worth shit. Terrible entertainers.

Such Weapons of Mass Kitsch SHOULD be outlawed by International Convention. But ... well, beats the shit out of bullets and bombs. (Israel has about 200 atomic fission bombs, but it's a secret. You didn't read it here on Vleeptron.) Let our e-mails to Achmet (who is not responsible) guide Lebanon and Israel to attack one another with Eurovision. The War That Nobody Has to Watch If It Makes Them Barf and Cringe.

Meshugineh Bob's 2 Rules for World Peace

Pat's Pub said:

You're right, Bob, everyone should have access to this sugar-coated mindless garbage. But writing to the TV Station would be quite pointless....

Lebanon has a Federal Censorship Law that prevents local media from broadcasting or printing anything of israeli origin or israeli content. (Untill a few years ago the UK had a similar law that was used on the IRA and Sinn Fein.) That's why they chickened out.

Next Peace Plan, please !

You are perfektlich korrektlich, (I know that's wrong, but I like the way it rhymes), and I'm just a dumb American asshat who can't even watch Eurovision's Zaubernacht.

Blame it on Tele Liban's cruel government masters in le Ministre des Asshats in downtown Beirut. And likely they are only doing the enforced bidding of those psycho meatheads in Damascus. And even Syria de temps en temps jumps through Hula Hoops at the bidding of President George W. Bush Jr. and Dr. Condoleeza Rice. And they in turn are puppets of Jesuits and Freemasons. Who answer to the all-men corporate gazillionaires who spend a happy week fishing in the nude every summer at Bohemian Grove, and Rule the World. Above them, the Elders of Zion who simultaneously pull the strings of World Marxism and Wall Street, above them the Angel of Death, above him, der Herr Lieber Gott.

Do you see the fallacy in your Korrektismus? I cannot find the e-mail addie of Bohemian Grove or the Grand Exalted Krigat of World Freemasonry. President Bush does not return my phone calls. Father O'Dennis SJ says, "Well, yes, I'm a Jesuit, but I am sure we do not secretly rule the world, and if we do, I don't know which Jesuit handles that department. I'm sorry. I wish I could help you out more." Roger Smith is never in his penthouse suite atop General Motors World Headquarters in Detroit, or at least that is what the armed security guard in the lobby told me. I don't WANT to talk to the Angel of Death, and der Herr Lieber Gott -- Christ, there are Internet rumors that maybe He does not even exist. Silly people in blogs write e-mails to der Herr Lieber Gott all the time -- you can Google "Dear God".

But answer came there none ...

But Meshugineh Bob got the e-mail for Tele Liban. I can request thousands of my addled Internet Eurovision song-loving pals to Kick Tele Liban in the Shins, to peck their Inboxes to death like a flock of annoyed ducks. e-mail from Andorra. e-mail from Malta. e-mail from UK. e-mail from Helvetia, Caledonia, Lusitania, Dacia, Istanbul, Suomi, Estonia. (I will be blind cc: my Request For Eurasia-Wide e-mail to those Termite whack jobs on Eurovision4ever.)

On the Internet,
nobody has to know
you're really a dog.

When attempting to bring about World Peace:

1. Bother, pester, annoy, badger and lower the Self-Esteem of the Nearest Bureaucrat or Flunky you can find who is remotely responsible for the thing that pisses you off.

2. Responsibility begins with the schmuck you can get on the phone, or who was stupid enough to post his/her e-mail addie. (These people are stupid enough to post the STREET ADDRESS OF A TELEVISION STATION IN BEIRUT!!!)

Although you are perfektlich korrektlich about Where This Dumb Rule came from, it is some guy named Achmet at Tele Liban who physically pulled the plug or Cliquee OFF while Eurovision 2005 was bouncing off satellites from Kiev. He was only obeying orders. This is not his responsibility.

But I can Share My Feelings in Microwave French with Achmet. I can use every manipulative, sneaky verbal skill I know from a long life of bothering bureaucrats and low-level flunkies and toadies and corporate Arse-lichers und Jasagers to bum him out, give him a stomach ache, and make him wonder about the wisdom of the Ministry of Asshats.

You know the old Arab/Irish/SriLankan/
Indian saying:
"309 funerals are enough,
I hate wearing these black clothes,
they make me look fat."

The Lebanese People are as sick and tired of The Fifty Years War as I am. Maybe 35 years ago, they were all Evil Terrorist French-Speaking Muslim Homicide-Bombing Fanatics. (Leave Comment if you wish to know my Feelings about the Freedom-Fighters known as the Irgun and the Stern Gang.)

But that was Then. This is Maintenant. Now they have grown weary -- l'ennui -- of their cousin Nina being blown up by a helicopter rocket, of their Uncle Suleiman being machine-gunned. You know the old Arab/Irish/SriLankan/Nepalese/Serbo-Croatian/
Pakistani/Indian saying: "309 funerals are enough, I hate wearing these black clothes, they make me look fat."

Share Your Feelings with Achmet. He was dumb enough to post his e-mail addie. World Peace begins on the customer side of Fenêtre 4, et commence immediatement aprés Achmet dite: "Next?"

And I am Herr Doktor Sgr. M. Mijnheer Mr Next. I am holding between my thumb and forefinger [Numero 44].

Pat ... you have no idea how Meshugineh I am. I am the Dwingeloo 2 and Melkweg Galactic Poster Child for Meshugineh. Does that translate? Google it, the spelling is genug korrekt, alles will be klar.

We are all God's Fools. Next question?

Okay, these are the asshats who refused to broadcast the Eurovision Song Contest in Lebanon because according to the Eurovision Rules, they would have also had to broadcast Shlomo & The Kosher Kidz singing their spectacular pop hit, "Ahava Haveevee Ahava L'alom Va-ed." ("I love you Honey I love You Forever and Ever.") You will all love this song when I sing it to you later tonight with my Karaok-e V.4 software. I will turn the volume up to ONZE.

Send these asshats an e-mail. Parlez-vous francais? Well, these asshats all speak French, the French Colonial Authorities took care of that for a few centuries. Their Motto: "Speak French Now, Or We'll Whip and Hang You, You Filthy Little Arab." So write your e-mail in French if you can. This is what you had to spend all those miserable hours in French Class for, with Madame Speigel. This is why your Microwave tells you how to heat up canned ravioli in French. Now it all pays off.

This is sort of serious. It's a major part of the Droog4/Vleeptron Middle East Peace Plan. Lebanon is a rather Nice and amazingly interesting Place with spectacular Mediterranean beaches, and Beirut is a great fucking kick-ass city when it's not all blowing up with artillery and car bombs. Did I mention the Bekaa Valley Hashish Agribusiness Industry? Lebanon is right on top of Israel, they are neighbors, and Genug Already with the Fifty Years War.

Time for a Group Hug. And Peace/Paix/Shalom/Salaam begins with the Eurovision Song Contest.

Oh. You thought Peace would come to the World when all the nerd intellectuals thought it was a good idea.

This is nicht korrect. Falsch.

Peace will come to the World when the TV Termites think it's a Good Idea.

Send an e-mail to these Chapeaux pour les Derrieres. Share your feelings with the nice bureaucrats of Tele Liban.

Of course they will think you are insane, but We Are All God's Fools. Be less cool. Bother some Lebanese strangers.

Crusader, can you please post this on every one of your 203 Labyrinthine Websites, Forums and Blogs? I don't care if all your Youthoid friends think I'm an asshat. I am an asshat. Next question?

Tele Liban

Street Address Tallet El Khayat
P.O.Box 11-4848
City Beirut
Country Lebanon
Telephone +961 (0)1 792 000 / 793 000
Telefax +961 (0)1 786 921 / 786 931
Satellites Telstar 10
Arabsat 3A
Nilesat 102
© LyngSat Address, last updated 2005-05-28

Serbo-Croation misunderstanding on #kosovo circa 1999

While Droog4 was bringing Peace to the war-torn former Yugoslavia and waiting for his Nobel Chat Prize in the mail, it was not all Peace Paix Paz Salaam Shalom. Peace is nice, but it cannot replace the most important things for which IRC was invented by a bored Finnish computer geek.

When television was invented and then crappy American TV shows were invented to stick in the teeny-tiny little new TV screens, one of the first crappy American TV shows for kids wasn't actually crappy at all. Adults loved it. John Steinbeck (Nobel Literature Prize) was addicted to it.

It was called "Kukla, Fran and Ollie."

Fran was a Human Woman named Fran Allison.

Ollie was a dragon puppet. He was sort of like Spongebob Squarepants or his Bestest Friend Patrick the Starfish. (Patrick has a brain. It has one neuron. Sponges are not exactly rocket scientists, either. They live in a pineapple under the sea in a town called Bikini Bottom.) Ollie had this one huge snaggletooth. He was always smiling and sweet. He was deeply in love with Fran as only a 10-year-old male dragon puppet can love a 36-year-old human woman. It was doomed love, like the love of a policeman who rides a Triumph retro motorcycle for a pretty young werewolf.

And Kukla was a puppet of indeterminate gender and indeterminate species, with a big red nose the size of a basketball. The human woman and her puppet friends -- Beulah Witch was real cool too -- were sweet, adorable, but also Very Clever. I didn't have diabetes then, but it didn't matter, "Kukla, Fran and Ollie" weren't like halvah or Dinah Shore, they wouldn't put you in a Sugar Coma. This was very funny stuff.

When the creator, a puppet guy from Chicago named Burr Tillstrom, first sewed these puppets together, a lady from Russia was visiting him. She saw the puppet. She screamed:


which means doll in Slavic. So Burr Tillstrom called the puppet Kukla.

So sometimes on IRC I would bring peace to the war-torn Balkans with the nick [Kukla].

While explaining the concepts of Peace, Respect, Diversity and Group Hugs to Serbs, Croats, Kosovars, Bosnians and Herzegovinians, I would get invitations to private chats all the time. They would go like this.

[Vlad] Nob schmoz ka-pop, Kukla! Snyerta voo-voo hubba-hubba?

In Serbo-Croatian, this means, roughly: Wanna remove all your clothes and let me stick my enormous kielbasa in your Love Cylinder?

[Kukla] Relax. Chill out. I'm a dude. Also am nyet sprechen zie Serbo-Croatian.

[Vlad] ????????????

[Kukla] I (1st person singular personal pronoun) Am (1st person singular present tense of irregular verb "to be") A (indefinite article) Dude (= man, male human, homme, hombre, mensch).

Then I would learn some nifty new curse words in Serbo-Croatian, and Vlad would vanish forever.

So to these Balkan Slavic dudes on the Internet with enormous erections, I learned "Kukla" really means "Little Dolly," and all people with the nick [Kukla] are Lookin' for Manly Balkan Stud Love during Wartime.

I didn't care, I kept using that nick. To American junior geezers, Kukla is just the cutest sweetest funniest little hand puppet that ever lived. I'm too lazy right now to surf, but images of Kukla and Ollie and Fran are very liberally represented on the Web. If nostalgia were a drug, this would be smack for geezers, and Google would be the sterile syringe.

And now there is Peace shalom salaam shazam shaboom paix paz pace throughout the Balkans. My work was done. I moved on to the Middle East. Next stop: #srilanka.

Anybody know how you say "Group Hug!" in whatever the Tamils and the Sinhalese speak?