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Here I use N.S. Sherlock as a cover for covert cat bashing. On another forum I'm mild-mannered Chuck Key, on another, Pankisi George. Is anyone else playing such double games? "Make yourselves sheep and the wolves will eat you" G. ned ludd | ||
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Sort of, on Gun type forums I'm Short44, on others I'm something not Short44. LOL. Dwindling the worlds lead supply one cat at a time!! | |||
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I'm claybuster,,where ever I am,,,I really hate crats,,Kill all of them fucking things!!!!!!!!!!! Your friend,,Clay http://www.peaceandroadkillgrease.com | |||
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On every forum I frequent(and I frequent ALOT of them) I am HTRN. I am what I am, and I make no apologies about it. HTRN | |||
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Same name, sig & password. Not knowing where I am, I can live with. Not knowing who I am now that scares me. HAVE FAITH IN GOD. | |||
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My parents named me Swamp Fox in honor of some guy that died 200 yrs ago. I guess I could use something else but then I wouldn't know if people were talking about me behing my back. ****************** "Policies making areas "gun free" provide a sense of safety to those who engage in magical thinking..." Glenn Harlan Reynolds | |||
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There are other forums????? WHAT? minus 300 posts from my total (for all the times I should have just kept my mouth shut......) | |||
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I couldn't get my name here so I just reversed it. I am too damned slow to remember a lot of lies anyhow!! derf Quando Omni Flunkus Moritati | |||
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Once upon a midnight dreary, While I pondered weak and weary... Edgar Poet Lariat http://www.MySweet.Lenore If yuro'e corseseyd and dsyelixc can you siltl raed oaky? | |||
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I use poletax on other forums. My real name is Bob.Only I spell it Bobb. When I was a small tad and did something to amaze the ole man, he would call me 'Dammit Bobby'. As I grew older and did something even more amazing, he would call me 'Oh God Bobby'. Now that I'm pretty much of a Geezer,I have to do something really outrageous to garner attention,then he calls me "Christ Onna Bike Bobby". My Strength Is That I Can Laugh At Myself, My Weakness Is That I have No Choice. | |||
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Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore. ..... Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December, and each separate dying ember wrought it's ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished for morrow, vainly I had sought to borrow, from my books surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the fair and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore. That's all I remember of that one, but I did like it. Although I'm more partial to Rabbie Burns or EE Cummings. Literature is one of my favorite things... well, "good" literature. I've used other forum names in the past, but even then I'm generally recognizeable, either by my avatar and my sig, which stay the same, but I really don't frequent many boards anymore, and everyone I do still visit, I'm just "Ben589" ... it's easier to remember that way. ====================================== Cleachdadh mi fo m' féileadh dé tha an m' osan. | |||
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No need for an alias - just tell it like it is wherever you are. Those that can't take it are wimps and can change their ways in their next lives - all nine of them - run kitty kitty! RELOAD - ITS FUN! | |||
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If yuro'e corseseyd and dsyelixc can you siltl raed oaky? | |||
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If you see Johnch anywere else it is still me . I don't have any other names , but I have been called a few . I try to keep to K.I.S.S. ( keep it simple stupid ) Johnch NRA life Delta Pheasants Forever DU Hunt as if your life depended on your results | |||
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I'll be darned,,I passed by edgar's grave not too long ago,,Kill'em All!! Clay | |||
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Minor variation on first board ever. Same handle on all but that one. "And this too shall pass." | |||
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I use the same screen name on every forum I visit. Guns and ammo what more do we need? | |||
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James, it would appear that you are new to this world. Welcome aboard sir! Pray tell, can you enchant us with tales of the crat? Dan Pres., TYHC http://www.TheClan.Grows If yuro'e corseseyd and dsyelixc can you siltl raed oaky? | |||
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When I am home bound for a few days I get bored and look around a bit. Not very often. I tried to register as lawndart on a couple recently, but it seems I had registered on those same boards a couple years back, forgot that I had done so, and also forgot what my pass word had been. AR is home. This place is like getting an education from the Jesuits back before they all turned into commies and queers. Man that pissed me off. I got stuck in some intellectual dump of a Franciscan high school, but the Physics and Calculus profs were Jesuits. Those guys had tough minds. If they would have let me have sex with (age appropriate) girls, I would have signed up right then and there. It seems like the fine print is always standing between me and a good time. Damnit anyway. LD | |||
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Ah, The Raven! I thought I still remembered at least the last three verses but no... I have to reread the poem tonight! But I surely don't understand why you started to quote it here? I am Marterius on the other forums I visit as well: An international forum for fiddlers and some Swedish gundog and hunting forums. ----------------------- A man can never have too much red wine, too many books, or too much ammunition. - R. Kipling | |||
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Marterius, while you ponder weak and weary... You can be anything you want at Accurate Reloading...excepting Alice. Or maybe Poe. It is an axiom of writing that it is difficult if not impossible to replicate style, or create another style that is faithfully unique from your own. In many cases the effort is very transparent, others take computer analysis to determine. The word menu is the same for all but the usage is up to the individual, thus as indelible as a fingerprint. I always liked Poe, quote him on odd occasion...the original American Gothic in my eye. Poe, like other famous writers, used the language in a way that stands out from the pack, in a way so memorable that his work is recognizable by anybody that has read three of his works. I might say that Birman is a pest, Poe could make you have nightmares about him. Enough of that example... Here on the 'net we are all writers, most have psuedonyms... wit and personality shine thru even as we fingerprint ourselves during our 15 minutes of fame before the world. Some try harder than others, some are just themselves. Still, one can try to be somebody they aren't, maybe doing better or worse. Maybe I'm the ghost of Poe, probably I'm not. 'Tis for you to decide. Well, if you will excuse me, I have a cask of... Dan Pres., TYHC http://www.DreamsSchemesAnd.DoubleBitAxes If yuro'e corseseyd and dsyelixc can you siltl raed oaky? | |||
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God, I hope some of these charcters are not real. Freud would have a thrombosis from reading some of these posts. | |||
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You are right about some characters. I know because I once met big mortie's sister. N.S. "Make yourselves sheep and the wolves will eat you" G. ned ludd | |||
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I'm rather rather fond of Tennyson, Coleridge and Eliot as well. The poem Ulysses just raises the hair on the back of my neck - from the poem, King Ulysses must have been one helluva general to serve under. Ulysses ...... We are not now that strength which in the old days Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are; One equal-temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield. Kubla Khan ..... And all who heard should see them there, And all should cry, Beware ! Beware ! His flashing eyes, his floating hair ! Weave a circle round him thrice, And close your eyes with holy dread, For he on honey-dew hath fed, And drunk the milk of Paradise. Here's one that I wrote, after my divorce when things weren't so great for me at home, and after I'd started dating my second wife for a while. I'm no Ed Poe, but that which I am, I am. The piper plays a charming song And dancing through the streets along Are kings and jesters, old and young Through the town his song is sung. Then all at once the piper waits. Measured footsteps seal their fates Hollow voices lost in time And once again the night is fine Now the woods are quiet, yet Changing seasons don't forget. Long eons pass - the forests age The world forgets the piper's stage And of that night all trace is lost Save for trees that know the cost. But magic flows along through time Waiting one to call the rhyme So now in twilight starts the dance A newfound hope, a second chance. And every note the piper played There on his flute full gold inlaid Is now found within her eyes Mercurial, with no disguise Entrapping me with but a glance. But looming silent in the dance In the moonlight on a hill Stands the piper smiling still And laughing at some hidden thrill. -- Ben ====================================== Cleachdadh mi fo m' féileadh dé tha an m' osan. | |||
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Dan, I agree on Poe, but The Raven is the only one of his poems that really got me. As to describing Birman, Poe did write "The Black Cat"... I like Eliot a lot, but we can't deny that he wrote "Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats". http://coral.lili.uni-bielefeld.de/Classes/Summer97/Sem...ex/oldpossumlex.html Regards, Marterius ----------------------- A man can never have too much red wine, too many books, or too much ammunition. - R. Kipling | |||
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Ben, that is good...ya musta been inspired...the right gal can do that. Marterius, yes he did. As for practical crats, think Dragon Lady, pits and pendulums, Birman, exotic spices. Dan Pres., TYHC http://www.HalfALeague.HalfALeague If yuro'e corseseyd and dsyelixc can you siltl raed oaky? | |||
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use whatever alias you like, i know who you are. your time will come. fffffttttttttt | |||
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XO Hiaku XO see maimed quair Feer hook strike in jaw so deep No master save him | |||
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Through long nursery nights he stood By my bed unwearying, Loomed gigantic, formless, queer, Purring in my haunted ear That same hideous nightmare thing, Talking, as he lapped my blood, In a voice cruel and flat, Saying for ever, "Cat! ... Cat! ... Cat!..." That one word was all he said, That one word through all my sleep, In monotonous mock despair. Nonsense may be light as air, But there's Nonsense that can keep Horror bristling round the head, When a voice cruel and flat Says for ever, "Cat! ... Cat! ... Cat!..." He had faded, he was gone Years ago with Nursery Land, When he leapt on me again From the clank of a night train, Overpowered me foot and head, Lapped my blood, while on and on The old voice cruel and flat Says for ever, "Cat! ... Cat! ... Cat!..." Morphia drowsed, again I lay In a crater by High Wood: He was there with straddling legs, Staring eyes as big as eggs, Purring as he lapped my blood, His black bulk darkening the day, With a voice cruel and flat, "Cat! ... Cat! ... Cat! ... Cat!..." he said, "Cat! ... Cat!..." When I'm shot through heart and head, And there's no choice but to die, The last word I'll hear, no doubt, Won't be "Charge!" or "Bomb them out!" Nor the stretcher-bearer's cry, "Let that body be, he's dead!" But a voice cruel and flat Saying for ever, "Cat! ... Cat! ... Cat!" -- Robert Graves ----------------------- A man can never have too much red wine, too many books, or too much ammunition. - R. Kipling | |||
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Marterius, that Bob fella...out Poe'd Poe...what a dark mind he dwelt in huh? Well, he obviously didn't like crats...good on him, I don't either. Dan Pres., TYHC http://www.WheresTheNapalm.Verse? If yuro'e corseseyd and dsyelixc can you siltl raed oaky? | |||
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