How about I task you?

Cha, cha, cha.........

champagne1982 said:
Once you post in an open forum, you leave yourself open to ridicule and sometimes, quite possibly this would be outside your ken, but, as unlikely as it sounds, you could share a laugh at an innocent mispelling.

My venom is merely a response to the acid I see dripping off your fangs, maybe if you fold them back behind your lips, those of us in the viper pit would be less inclined to sheath our own in your unappetizing ass.

I don't want your balls, that would mean I'd have to take them from the women you have in your life. They already have them tightly gripped in their fists.

Caio

Ah, that it were. But I find no ridicule here, I find the very same venom you describe upon those said 'fangs'. And I know that I offered you nothing, much less a part of myself. And if I am unappetizing, it makes me wonder who invited whom..., to the table? And am I to believe that you are saying good-bye? This thread was quiet not too long ago. And yet, my "unappetizing ass" apparently isn't all that "unappetizing". Because here you are on your own unction.

"Cause and effect" is one of physics most misunderstood laws. Was it my "cause" that effected you to come here and bedevil me? You have had more than enough opportunities to leave me to waste in my own malapropriated grandiosity. But still, you come back in that supposed "White" shining armor to battle this Dragon! And yet my vile enchantment draws you back, time and time again. Just tell me you had no chance to turn your back on me.

I see this as it is. And that is just why I'm here. Even as you continually find fault in my writings and postings..., you have turned a blind-eye to your own. And these are the titles that I am to beholden to? I have faulted myself, willingly and unwillingly. But then you can't, as it would ruin that proud vision you carry for yourself. And your......., moldy attempts at misquoting my phrases, I am so veritably damaged by that. :rolleyes: Of course I'm under the microscope fastened to your eye's, letting others slip by your scrutiny.

But I have learned the illusion of titles and degree's. And I'd rather go have a drink at the saloon with the Wright brother's. There was never a snake behind those canine's.

So don your armor and sling your lance. This Dragon has been looking for a place to call home. And I have yet to see any decoration of competency or skill yet. And it was so peaceful here..., 'til you gunslinger's showed up.

Dragon3alt.jpg
 
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Lauren Hynde said:
That is so gay.

I am I, Don Quixote,
The Lord of La Mancha,
My destiny calls and I go,



I bet he wears tights and sings in a basso buffo voice....like Robert Goulet
 
<moderator comes in with a mop and bucket, cleans up the blood (all TMV's), and leaves>

*drudge, drudge, drudge*​
 
My..., the sluggard dog game.

Well, I see we have finally decided on a new tact. About time. And so you ache me as the dingy, shining knight! To dim the spot upon you. Nice, and sly as well. But then you still have the same problem, how will that affect my own visual understanding. Of course, no such energy in that direction. Just the standard propaganda for the muddied waters. And still it seems that you have to pin yourselves to a test which you abhore.

My doing? I think that answer is long past. After all, we keep hearing the same tonality..., "What fool this ego has!" But then I have been quite content to take what you offer, as it was never intended to assuage me. "Come..., see the fool on the hill!" You make very loud street-cryer's. But the Big-tent setting somewhat leaves you..., barking.

Plodding along with minor phrases of sodden quips. How, drippingly posed..., piked. Well, here I am again, and I know that you come once again to decorate with aluminum icicles and broken bulbs. Anything to add a somnambulistic tag and titter to your ineffectious mutterings. Irks you..., doesn't it. This supposedly uneducated dullard, still erroding at your status and station above all us..., peasant's.

Well here, maybe it would help if you understood this much. How much of your panoply is devoted to those that never, ever finished high school? But then we touch upon the forbidden ground. It must never be acknowledged that some of the greatest, could not walk into a school of college level. It is a great authoritarian sin to even nudge a thought in that direction.

So take that mop and pail, and hide all that tainted blood. Wipe away that what you fear. Because if history teaches anything, no matter how the "titled" seek to modify perceptions. There comes the time that they will drown in all that scubbed and tossed blood. Because a change always sunders the educated fool. And the time is moving faster and faster, to the final time that there will be no seperate classes. That advancement of art is not the sole property of the "titled".

Do I preach revolution? No..., I teach inevitability. You are blind to tomorrow, and leave that dirt to others. And soon, the broom will sweep you into regret.

Dragon3alt.jpg
 
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:confused: :confused: :confused: :confused: :confused:

Well, I see we have finally decided on a new tact. About time. And so you ache (not a reflexive verb) me as the dingy, shining (contradictory) knight! To dim the spot upon you. Nice, and sly as well. But then you still have the same problem,comma splice how will that affect my own visual understanding. Of course, no such energy in that directionwhich direction?. Just the standard propaganda for the muddied waters. And still it seems that you have to pin yourselves to a test which you abhore test? what test?.

My doing? I think that answer is long pastI don't understand the question. After all, we keep hearing the same tonality..., "What fool this ego has!"(More like "what ego this fool has" But then I have been quite content to take what you offer(I'm not offering anything), as it was never intended to assuage me. "Come..., see the fool on the hill!" You make very loud street-cryer's(how many? street-cryer's what?). But the Big-tent setting somewhat leaves you..., barking(well, I am a barking dog, but I've never barked in a circus).

Plodding along with minor phrases of sodden quips. How, drippingly posed..., piked. Well, here I am again, and I know that you come once again to decorate with aluminum icicles and broken bulbs(not me, not my holiday). Anything to add a somnambulistic tag and titter to your ineffectious mutterings. Irks you..., doesn't it(maybe if I knew what "it" was I could answer this). This supposedly uneducated dullard, still erroding at your status and station above all us..., peasant's(which peasant's? who's a peasant? did I call someone a peasant?).

Well here, maybe it would help if you understood this much. How much of your panoply is devoted to those that never, ever finished high school? (huh?) But then we touch upon the forbidden ground. It must never be acknowledged that some of the greatest, could not walk into a school of college level. It is a great authoritarian sin to even nudge a thought in that direction{double huh?).

So take that mop and pail, and hide all that tainted blood. Wipe away that what you fear. Because if history teaches anything, no matter how the "titled" seek to modify perceptions. There comes the time that they will drown in all that scubbed and tossed blood. Because a change always sunders the educated fool. And the time is moving faster and faster, to the final time that there will be no seperate classes. That advancement of art is not the sole property of the "titled".

Do I preach revolution? No..., I teach inevitability. You are blind to tomorrow, and leave that dirt to others. And soon, the broom will sweep you into regret.

(I really have no idea what you mean. Is it time for your evening meds yet?)
 
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Thus, the noble dragon sits in shadow
of a martyrdom denied.
His once gleaming scales scoured dull
with malevolence opined
not by learned scholars, but much
to his dismay, by a lowly grammarian
who weilds his hobby to save the day:
from dragon droppings
and acidic ichor flumes.
The stench of malapropal puns
wilt shining armoured plumes
but did the purist run?
Hell, no! Instead he rose and dangling
participlic bait,
tempted the ancient dragon forth
towards the punctuation that he hates.
Once the lumbering beast began
the possessive ess's dance
then Sir Knight of Proper Usage
impaled him fast upon his lance.
And now the battered lizard skulks
in misty gloom and muck
while the peasants sing of dragon
blood and how his arse was stuck
in denial and bilious ire and impaled
upon an oaken lance shoved straight
into that fetid spot below his drooping tail.
 
Everlow.........

champagne1982 said:
Thus, the noble dragon sits in shadow (ulterior)
of a martyrdom denied. (and never sought)
His once gleaming scales scoured dull
with malevolence opined (By their image)
not by learned scholars, but much
to his dismay, by a lowly grammarian (thus we meet the reflective)
who weilds his hobby to save the day: (it was saved long ago, by better than I)
from dragon droppings (Again seeking your "scat")
and acidic ichor flumes. (witticism matched in color)
The stench of malapropal puns (or misaligned loyalties)
wilt shining armoured plumes
but did the purist run? (Puritan=Conservative)
Hell, no! Instead he rose and dangling
participlic bait, (Endangered mangler)
tempted the ancient dragon forth
towards the punctuation that he hates. (A slight reversal?)
Once the lumbering beast began
the possessive ess's dance (Before Wiccan ebony)
then Sir Knight of Proper Usage (Long before surpassed)
impaled him fast upon his lance. (Forked tongue)
And now the battered lizard skulks (A need unavailed)
in misty gloom and muck (what a pleasant denotation)
while the peasants sing of dragon (You know, speaking of punctuation)
blood and how his arse was stuck
in denial and bilious ire and impaled (As seen by the right hand of God!)
upon an oaken lance shoved straight (Penis envy?)
into that fetid spot below his drooping tail. (Brings tear's to your eyes.)


As you continue this unwitting assault, It would seem more that this crusade bears the same vengence and vorpid indulgence, as was the Gleeming Sovereign's of those "Dark Ages". As you do seem to need this image that I damage you all too much! And the above little "Fairy Tale" makes very weak this arguement that I am your fiend and demon. For I have yet to assail you with this venom and demented fantasy. Why didn't you call me the Wicked Witch of the West? It wasn't enough to call me names was it? You had to do more, you had to dig up the muck of the sewer.

But then again you missed. Remember this much, it is your name on this little suffering of your vehemence. It is your anger you toss at me. And yet, it still stains the very source. And an "unschooled grammarian"..., that made me giggle. I would offer that it makes you more in dire need of martyrdom than I. Still the shining "Knight". And slaughtering the dispicable Dragon, I thought we had gotten past the old Fairy Tales.

I love that every time you smear me as a false martyr, another facet of your illusion becomes diminished and your true nature "aches" you. I never claimed "martyrdom". It is the title you foist on my image. In fact it seems that you have ttaken quite a lot of liberties against what I thought was due. And it still marks the question. "What do you fear from me?"

You spend an enormous amount of time and liturgy at me for, the small matter that you evidently shout out. I find it quite curious that this one little person of such "delusional deviltry" seems to cause an almost religious zealotry from you and your clan. I have seen you give others, a whole lot less time and derision in the scope, of your declaration of their intent.

Now tell me, once again. How much does your idealism of proper literacy, have I shown that I care for? I've seen your poem's and I've read your posts, and it is a feral, fetid stench of what you expect of other's, that you do not expect of yourself. I believe it is still called double-standard, when you expect more of others than you demand of yourself. Call it priviledge all you want, it remains as "Holier-than-thou"! Above the law! Joe Nacchioism! Stuck-up!

I don't want to be like you. I am very relaxed being myself. And I know that you'll still be here, because you are fighting for your delusion's. And they are precious to you. So, as "Stuck-up, stinky-poo" this Dragon is to you, He likes roasting chest-nuts. Stay confused and clueless..., it becomes you.

Dragon3alt.jpg
 
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You poor, downtrodden individual, TMV, you read too much significance into this bit o' silliness. I haven't mentioned you directly, why do you persist in making it so that every word written here, in this ethereal ether, is about me or you?

I am not the lowly grammarian nor do I suffer penis envy, I prefer my vagina and clitoris, after all, with these I can have multiple orgasms (given the right sexual partner).

Although, your take is offally amusing in places, it is far from correct in every instance.

Could you be more specific about the error in my punctuation? I fail to see the mistake.

ETA: I only spent about 8 minutes in writing this. Rhyme comes easily to me. So, don't presume that I'm making a lot of effort in my replies. I'm not, really. You, sir, are a very broad target and thus, you're hard to miss.
 
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champagne1982 said:
I am not the lowly grammarian nor do I suffer penis envy, I prefer my vagina and clitoris, after all, with these I can have multiple orgasms (given the right sexual partner).
You go, girl! :D
 
Angeline said:
What's a vorpid?
Not in the dictionary but I googled.

vorpid

constructed by combining the following terms:
vorpal: created by C.S. Lewis to describe a sword
vapid: lifeless, dull; lacking or having lost life
morbid: affected by, caused by, causing, or characteristic of disease


It makes me want to make up new words!
 
TMV said:
As you continue this unwitting assault, It would seem more that this crusade bears the same vengence and vorpid indulgence, as was the Gleeming Sovereign's of those "Dark Ages". As you do seem to need this image that I damage you all too much! And the above little "Fairy Tale" makes very weak this arguement that I am your fiend and demon. For I have yet to assail you with this venom and demented fantasy. Why didn't you call me the Wicked Witch of the West? It wasn't enough to call me names was it? You had to do more, you had to dig up the muck of the sewer.

But then again you missed. Remember this much, it is your name on this little suffering of your vehemence. It is your anger you toss at me. And yet, it still stains the very source. And an "unschooled grammarian"..., that made me giggle. I would offer that it makes you more in dire need of martyrdom than I. Still the shining "Knight". And slaughtering the dispicable Dragon, I thought we had gotten past the old Fairy Tales.

I love that every time you smear me as a false martyr, another facet of your illusion becomes diminished and your true nature "aches" you. I never claimed "martyrdom". It is the title you foist on my image. In fact it seems that you have ttaken quite a lot of liberties against what I thought was due. And it still marks the question. "What do you fear from me?"

You spend an enormous amount of time and liturgy at me for, the small matter that you evidently shout out. I find it quite curious that this one little person of such "delusional deviltry" seems to cause an almost religious zealotry from you and your clan. I have seen you give others, a whole lot less time and derision in the scope, of your declaration of their intent.

Now tell me, once again. How much does your idealism of proper literacy, have I shown that I care for? I've seen your poem's and I've read your posts, and it is a feral, fetid stench of what you expect of other's, that you do not expect of yourself. I believe it is still called double-standard, when you expect more of others than you demand of yourself. Call it priviledge all you want, it remains as "Holier-than-thou"! Above the law! Joe Nacchioism! Stuck-up!

I don't want to be like you. I am very relaxed being myself. And I know that you'll still be here, because you are fighting for your delusion's. And they are precious to you. So, as "Stuck-up, stinky-poo" this Dragon is to you, He likes roasting chest-nuts. Stay confused and clueless..., it becomes you.
Why didn't you call me the Wicked Witch of the West? I'll humour you... TMV, you are the Wicked Witch of the West.

"unschooled grammarian"..., That's lowly

seems to cause an almost religious zealotry from you and your clan. They are a cult and we are going to Mars and vanquish all the "stuck up, stinky poos" there, too.

Joe Nacchioism -- Joseph Nacchio was found guilty and is serving his sentence. This reference is a little unrelated to what you're charging me with, don't you think, unless you'd like to invent a new Taco Bell side dish... Nachos that cost 19 million bucks? I don't think that will be a very big seller, do you?
 
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champagne1982 said:
Why didn't you call me the Wicked Witch of the West? I'll humour you... TMV, you are the Wicked Witch of the West.

"unschooled grammarian"..., That's lowly

seems to cause an almost religious zealotry from you and your clan. They are a cult and we are going to Mars and vanquish all the "stuck up, stinky poos" there, too.

Joe Nacchioism -- Joseph Nacchio was found guilty and is serving his sentence. This reference is a little unrelated to what you're charging me with, don't you think, unless you'd like to invent a new Taco Bell side dish... Nachos that cost 19 million bucks? I don't think that will be a very big seller, do you?

And the vorpid ones. I'm going after the vorpid ones.
 
TMV said:
. And it still marks the question. "What do you fear from me?"


No one fears you.

You are like an infomercial on late night TV...we watch you 'cause you're there when we are bored and there is absolutely nothing better to do at the moment. Then we realize it's better for everyone if we just turn you off.
 
champagne1982 said:
Why didn't you call me the Wicked Witch of the West? I'll humour you... TMV, you are the Wicked Witch of the West.


Now just hold on there, Steely Dan. I'm the Wicked Witch of the West. And I'll go broom to broom against anyone who tries to take the title away.

If TMV wants to challenge me for that, he can name the time, the poetic form and the dungeon and I'll be there, pointy hat and all.

"How many flying monkeys does the Pope have?" (two karma points to anyone who recognizes the quote I just butchered.)

bijou
 
Angeline said:
What's a vorpid?
She Felt He Wrote in a Vorpid Way

She felt he wrote in a vorpid way
...Bestride designs of Jove,
A Knight whom Maid could but appraise
...With very little love:

So violently, with sticks and stones
...He'd belt her in her eye!
Fair's not his fare. He means but One
...Star shining in his sky.

She was unwounded by this, though.
...His poems spake creakily;
No knight, just silly knave, and, so,
...Inconsequentially.
 
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MTVM said:
She Felt He Wrote in a Vorpid Way

She felt he wrote in a vorpid way
...Bestride designs of Jove,
A Knight whom Maid could but appraise
...With very little love:

So violently, with sticks and stones
...He'd belt her in her eye!
Fair's not his fare. He meant but One
...Star shining in his sky.

She was unwounded by this, though.
...His poems spake creakily;
No knight, just silly knave, and, so,
...Inconsequentiality.

damn, MTVM, I like this poem. :)
 
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