In the outer sanctum of the dreaded soop dragon there is a riot in progress
as Missy and Crowd arrive. People are ready to tear one another throats
out.
Each faction has come for the prize. Each group is willing to cause death and mayhem to achieve their final destiny.
Crowd steps to the outer circle and approaches TTony.
CROWD: What's going on here?
TTONY: Dees here fucks wanna takes what's ours.
CROWD: And what exactly is that?
TTONY: We's came for da dragon, we's gonna leave wit da dragon.
The screaming and bickering gets louder and more violent.
CROWD: This is insane... some one needs to do something.
Crowd climbs high on top of the horse statue in the middle of the sanctum and screams...
CROWD: People... PEOPLE... HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY!
I am somewhat obtuse, yet clearly, I feel an urgent need to be here for you today in this , the greatest herd branding in the history of our webbored community.
Four scarred years ago, a character, so unlike today and is now but a shadow of himself, signed on. This momentous occasion brought the funny out into the open to shine as a great beacon for the huddled few with chapped, brown tinged lips. It came as a righteous daybreak to the mollified nature of their existence.
Yet after four years, give or take the odd week or two that slipped by spent mastering a specific task in the latest release of GTA, he and his ilk has been tamed. Four years later, the bored is once again shackled by the manacles of mediocrity. Four years later, we find ourselves bobbing on our own little islands in a sea of stoicism. Four years later, we begin to see the need for the jab in the ribs to jolt us from the puddles of warm comfortable mud that asks us to languish a while longer.
In a sense, I stand here today to make a deposit in your day to day lives.
When the architects of this forum made openly available the source for this outlet, they had no clue as to what they were signing on for. A source, which, in not so plain text said "Have fun kiddies", along with the self writing sophomoric phrases such as ' i', 'b', and 'STRIKE'. Yet it is obvious today that we have failed to use this source in a responsible manner insofar as it's possibilities are concerned. The source now screams "Unfunny, cumspot".
But I refuse to believe that the promise that this character once showed is now bankrupt. WE, as some do, should refuse to believe that there is insufficient room in the brightly coloured great sand box for all. And so I come on you this day to urge you to funny up. The riches that are to be beheld and security for the life of this bored are but one more synapses connection away from reality. OK, maybe several leetle connections for some of the wooly quadrupeds around here...but possible none the less.... well, so, OK, some just ain't got it and never will, but you other thugs best be steppin' up, Yo.
I have come on you, as several of you are aware, in your hollowed out spot.. err sorry... to this hallowed spot, to remind you of the urgency of now in this matter. This is no time to engage in chillin'. No time to further tranquilize an already sedate mind. NOW is the time to make real once again the pitfalls of those individual 'Joy Holes' we so lovingly created. NOW is the time to refurbish the dark and far from desolate minds and segregate the farm once again. NOW is the time to wield the branding iron of derision and drive the pointless flesh into the quicksands of destruction. NOW is the time!
It will be fatal for this playground to overlook the urgency of the moment. A sweltering summer is nigh upon us, and I be needing to tan my legs so they be fittin' my ebony ass. Yet I shall not indulge in such a vain endeavor while the bete noire begins the dieing process much liek one witnesses Nature begin to fold at the closing of Autumn. And for those that believe I just be blowing of a little steam, I live in eternal hope that a rather large unkindness of raven, afflicted with distemper, find sexual gratification in every decomposing pore on your stale flesh. A reckoning must come. Be ashamed of your silence, be ashamed of your inabilities.. urgg, what's the point.
But there is something I must say to one and all gathered here at this paling precipice. In the pursuit of a more perfect collective, we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to stain the terrain with META TAG refreshes and embedded sounds, that shits really childish, yo. I offer that we must sting their sensibilities with avant garde retort an leave them wondering what it is all about. Let us not distrust all wordsmiths that bend our ear with some unsavory repertoire, for our future is inextricably bound and submersed in their future. We cannot walk alone.
And as we live, we must make a pledge to renew ourselves. No longer is the tried and true entertaining. We must not rest upon our laurels. Patting your own pathetic ego because you remembered a line written by your peers some months ago and regurgitating it, does not constitute progress. It ain't funny.
We can never be satisfied being a victim of malignant apathy. We should never be satisfied with the usual '#3' "stab at thee for hates sake". We cannot be satisfied as the kibitzer drones on and on and finds it's self having the need to use words liek 'kibitzer'. We cannot be satisfied with a "come one, come all" policy anymore! We cannot be satisfied as long as some snot nosed fucking tumbleweed finds it impossible to relate a coherent thought and fair knight fails to address the court with thoughts most coherent. We should NEVER be without 'born on' dated beverages!
I know that some of you have travelled an easy road to arrive at this point. Some from conveyor belt public education, some from wholly unstimulated childhood, some from tepid relationships, but I say unto you.....fuck off, you ain't needed. Oh and.. wallow in your 'Valley of Oblivion'. I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of this day and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It's dream deeply rooted in the hay day of original thought and dark musings.
I have a dream that one day this romper room will rise and live out it's true creed: "789" I have a dream that one day we shall gladly join in on the gabfest of our fellow citizens instead of loathing it's very existence. I have a dream. I have a dream of one day seeing the ring of fire complete, yes sir! I have a dream. I have a dream that one day, the little boys and little girls can sit down in the presence of satire and take one in the pooper for the Gipper. I have a dream! I have a dream that one day every worthy character will be exalted, and every odium received with open arms and blanks stares, and every crooked place be allowed to exist... I have a dream.
This is my hope. This is the desire I leave here today with. With this desire I shall hew a canoe from an otherwise worthless carcass again and again. (I respectfully ask that you omit this one item from the abhorrent 'regurgitated' list 'cause it's just funny as balls, yo.) With this desire I shall create new religions.. With this desire I shall pen numerous melodious poem.. and many an obtuse statement. With this desire I shall ink the nature of this desire, that being, the desire to urge your desire to desire the desirable..... ahem...
And if this of which I have voiced is desirable.... no wait... ermmm.. And to you I say, if what I have spoke of verges on your perception of a sandbox filled with joyous people, black men and white men (but please make sure there's many men), cryptic and prolix, Cobbs and other lessor religions, then let us come together, come together with toasting mugs held high and say......
Funyons last, Funyons last Thank Cobb almighty, the beers here at last!
As he finishes his speech, smiling in egotistical aire the groups gather in a oneness that had not been seen since the last night of King Don in the Kingdom of slam-a-lot... missy approaches and tugs at his long trench coat.
MISSY: Crowd... crowd... CROWD
*cut to new scene*
Crowd is leaning againt the window with drool dangling down his cheek. He is wearing a retarded grin of simple pompous joy.
MISSY: Uh... you were mumbling in your sleep... and you ripped a few nice ones... mind rolling that window down.
CROWD: Wha?
MISSY: You've been asleep for three hours... it's your turn to drive.
CROWD: A dream... NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO... DAMN YOU NEWHART!!! Damn you to hell!
*Fade to black*
special thanks to Crowd for the lead in and wrap up.
This speach can be found archived in the Encyclopidia Webbordicus under the heading Crowd: what the fuck has he done with his life? Sub-section stimulated rants: Crowd visions [27 b.a.c]
Each faction has come for the prize. Each group is willing to cause death and mayhem to achieve their final destiny.
Crowd steps to the outer circle and approaches TTony.
CROWD: What's going on here?
TTONY: Dees here fucks wanna takes what's ours.
CROWD: And what exactly is that?
TTONY: We's came for da dragon, we's gonna leave wit da dragon.
The screaming and bickering gets louder and more violent.
CROWD: This is insane... some one needs to do something.
Crowd climbs high on top of the horse statue in the middle of the sanctum and screams...
CROWD: People... PEOPLE... HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY!
I am somewhat obtuse, yet clearly, I feel an urgent need to be here for you today in this , the greatest herd branding in the history of our webbored community.
Four scarred years ago, a character, so unlike today and is now but a shadow of himself, signed on. This momentous occasion brought the funny out into the open to shine as a great beacon for the huddled few with chapped, brown tinged lips. It came as a righteous daybreak to the mollified nature of their existence.
Yet after four years, give or take the odd week or two that slipped by spent mastering a specific task in the latest release of GTA, he and his ilk has been tamed. Four years later, the bored is once again shackled by the manacles of mediocrity. Four years later, we find ourselves bobbing on our own little islands in a sea of stoicism. Four years later, we begin to see the need for the jab in the ribs to jolt us from the puddles of warm comfortable mud that asks us to languish a while longer.
In a sense, I stand here today to make a deposit in your day to day lives.
When the architects of this forum made openly available the source for this outlet, they had no clue as to what they were signing on for. A source, which, in not so plain text said "Have fun kiddies", along with the self writing sophomoric phrases such as ' i', 'b', and 'STRIKE'. Yet it is obvious today that we have failed to use this source in a responsible manner insofar as it's possibilities are concerned. The source now screams "Unfunny, cumspot".
But I refuse to believe that the promise that this character once showed is now bankrupt. WE, as some do, should refuse to believe that there is insufficient room in the brightly coloured great sand box for all. And so I come on you this day to urge you to funny up. The riches that are to be beheld and security for the life of this bored are but one more synapses connection away from reality. OK, maybe several leetle connections for some of the wooly quadrupeds around here...but possible none the less.... well, so, OK, some just ain't got it and never will, but you other thugs best be steppin' up, Yo.
I have come on you, as several of you are aware, in your hollowed out spot.. err sorry... to this hallowed spot, to remind you of the urgency of now in this matter. This is no time to engage in chillin'. No time to further tranquilize an already sedate mind. NOW is the time to make real once again the pitfalls of those individual 'Joy Holes' we so lovingly created. NOW is the time to refurbish the dark and far from desolate minds and segregate the farm once again. NOW is the time to wield the branding iron of derision and drive the pointless flesh into the quicksands of destruction. NOW is the time!
It will be fatal for this playground to overlook the urgency of the moment. A sweltering summer is nigh upon us, and I be needing to tan my legs so they be fittin' my ebony ass. Yet I shall not indulge in such a vain endeavor while the bete noire begins the dieing process much liek one witnesses Nature begin to fold at the closing of Autumn. And for those that believe I just be blowing of a little steam, I live in eternal hope that a rather large unkindness of raven, afflicted with distemper, find sexual gratification in every decomposing pore on your stale flesh. A reckoning must come. Be ashamed of your silence, be ashamed of your inabilities.. urgg, what's the point.
But there is something I must say to one and all gathered here at this paling precipice. In the pursuit of a more perfect collective, we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to stain the terrain with META TAG refreshes and embedded sounds, that shits really childish, yo. I offer that we must sting their sensibilities with avant garde retort an leave them wondering what it is all about. Let us not distrust all wordsmiths that bend our ear with some unsavory repertoire, for our future is inextricably bound and submersed in their future. We cannot walk alone.
And as we live, we must make a pledge to renew ourselves. No longer is the tried and true entertaining. We must not rest upon our laurels. Patting your own pathetic ego because you remembered a line written by your peers some months ago and regurgitating it, does not constitute progress. It ain't funny.
We can never be satisfied being a victim of malignant apathy. We should never be satisfied with the usual '#3' "stab at thee for hates sake". We cannot be satisfied as the kibitzer drones on and on and finds it's self having the need to use words liek 'kibitzer'. We cannot be satisfied with a "come one, come all" policy anymore! We cannot be satisfied as long as some snot nosed fucking tumbleweed finds it impossible to relate a coherent thought and fair knight fails to address the court with thoughts most coherent. We should NEVER be without 'born on' dated beverages!
I know that some of you have travelled an easy road to arrive at this point. Some from conveyor belt public education, some from wholly unstimulated childhood, some from tepid relationships, but I say unto you.....fuck off, you ain't needed. Oh and.. wallow in your 'Valley of Oblivion'. I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of this day and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It's dream deeply rooted in the hay day of original thought and dark musings.
I have a dream that one day this romper room will rise and live out it's true creed: "789" I have a dream that one day we shall gladly join in on the gabfest of our fellow citizens instead of loathing it's very existence. I have a dream. I have a dream of one day seeing the ring of fire complete, yes sir! I have a dream. I have a dream that one day, the little boys and little girls can sit down in the presence of satire and take one in the pooper for the Gipper. I have a dream! I have a dream that one day every worthy character will be exalted, and every odium received with open arms and blanks stares, and every crooked place be allowed to exist... I have a dream.
This is my hope. This is the desire I leave here today with. With this desire I shall hew a canoe from an otherwise worthless carcass again and again. (I respectfully ask that you omit this one item from the abhorrent 'regurgitated' list 'cause it's just funny as balls, yo.) With this desire I shall create new religions.. With this desire I shall pen numerous melodious poem.. and many an obtuse statement. With this desire I shall ink the nature of this desire, that being, the desire to urge your desire to desire the desirable..... ahem...
And if this of which I have voiced is desirable.... no wait... ermmm.. And to you I say, if what I have spoke of verges on your perception of a sandbox filled with joyous people, black men and white men (but please make sure there's many men), cryptic and prolix, Cobbs and other lessor religions, then let us come together, come together with toasting mugs held high and say......
Funyons last, Funyons last Thank Cobb almighty, the beers here at last!
As he finishes his speech, smiling in egotistical aire the groups gather in a oneness that had not been seen since the last night of King Don in the Kingdom of slam-a-lot... missy approaches and tugs at his long trench coat.
MISSY: Crowd... crowd... CROWD
*cut to new scene*
Crowd is leaning againt the window with drool dangling down his cheek. He is wearing a retarded grin of simple pompous joy.
MISSY: Uh... you were mumbling in your sleep... and you ripped a few nice ones... mind rolling that window down.
CROWD: Wha?
MISSY: You've been asleep for three hours... it's your turn to drive.
CROWD: A dream... NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO... DAMN YOU NEWHART!!! Damn you to hell!
*Fade to black*
special thanks to Crowd for the lead in and wrap up.
This speach can be found archived in the Encyclopidia Webbordicus under the heading Crowd: what the fuck has he done with his life? Sub-section stimulated rants: Crowd visions [27 b.a.c]