Wedding Bells & Whistles (Literally Wedding Them)

Under pressure from New Jersey's highest court to offer marriage or its equivalent to multi-sexual-oriented couples, groups, and associations, the state Legislature voted last week to make New Jersey the third state to allow civil unions. "This is a huge step towards progress," says M.S. Punchenko, who has been waiting more than four years to enter into an official legal relationship with a toaster named Helen<3, his long-time life partner and a registered Democrat. "If I could get Helen registered to vote for Robert Menendez in midterm elections, she might as well be entitled to my health insurance, inheritance, and adoption rights," he says.

~
M.S. Punchenko, director of the "People For Sexual Liberation Of Appliances" of New Jersey, had sued the state for the right to marry a toaster, and now he expects toaster/humyn couples to be able to get officially married in New Jersey within two years.

Excited grass root activists unleashed a state-wide campaign to raise awareness of the new bill. "I know that the majority of New Jerseyites - and Americans for that matter - are just like us, they couldn't wait to marry a roommate, a pet, a utensil, or a household appliance," says Sandra Graham-Bale of Newark who has recently exchanged wedding vows with a vibrating Gillette shaver named Igor. "The only reason why most people aren't celebrating in the streets must be the lack of awareness. That's why we need this campaign, to let the people know that they are free now!"

HUSBAND: "I'm leaving, Lucy. I'm in love with this car, her name is Marge." WIFE: "It's OK, Bob. I've been having a long relationship with Mr. Peter the Frying Pan here. I'm glad we can finally get married!"

Complaints from local residents about the excesses of grass roots campaigners include a story of Joe Damico who walked out to his parked car in Paramus when someone asked him, "Do you own this car sir?" He replied, "I do" - and now all his benefits at work have been turned over to his 1998 Honda Civic.

Another Trenton resident has become a husband to a pair of New York Jets tickets after answering "I do" to a workmate on a construction site who asked if anyone wanted to see a ball game.

In Hackensack, two unsuspecting men were chatting as they walked down the roofing supplies aisle in a local Home Depot store, when at the end of the aisle they were suddenly greeted by a cheering group of associates and pronounced husband and husband.

"You are now pronounced husband and husband"

Professor Palimpsest: "Toasters are a finicky lot. She may seem the portrait of fidelity now, but many a man has been burned before."

"We might go a little over the edge sometimes," admits Mrs. Igor-Graham-Bale, "but considering years of oppression we have suffered, whatever we do is not nearly enough. We have a full cooperation of local authorities - the ACLU took care of that."

Predictably, the hasty marriages resulted in a skyrocketing divorce rate. A case was filed in Hoboken by a man who accepted a quarter from a coworker for a vending machine but cannot spend as he is now married to it. He wants out, citing irreconcilable differences.

Another man contacted a Maytag technician requesting a sex-change operation on a two-slice toaster who allegedly wanted to become a male. "The guy was all shook up," recalls the technician. "To learn such news two days after the wedding would break anyone's heart. I applaud him for wanting to preserve the marriage no matter what. It's really heartening to see that some of us still take family values seriously."

"Love counts," says AssemblymanWilfredo Caraballo (D-Essex), a chief sponsor of the bill."The gender, species, brand, or vitality of whom one loves should not matter to the state." Caraballo and some other lawmakers said they would work for full marriage rights for multi-sexual-oriented couples, groups, and consortia.

Others bristled at the notion. "It's my personal belief, faith, and religious practice that marriage has been defined in the Bible*," said Assemblyman Ronald Dancer (R-Ocean) as he dragged his knuckles, swaying back and forth in front of his cave." And this is one time that I cannot compromise my bigoted troglodyte beliefs and faiths."

Dancer's conservative constituents are raising questions, in particular, whether an illegal alien who enters in a civil union with an American toaster will be eligible for a work permit, followed by full US citizenship and voting rights.

The court, in its 4-3 ruling, left it up to the Legislature to decide whether to call such unions "marriages" or something else. Civil rights advocates said they would continue to push for the right to marry, arguing that not calling such unions "marriage" creates a different, and inferior, institution. "I will force my relationship with a toaster down everyone's throat until you accept the love between me and the toaster!" says Punchenko. "And if you don't, I will go down to Hollywood and personally demand that a toaster/humyn couple is present in every TV show and movie! You will accept us!"

__________________
*Bible = Judeo-Christian user manual

 

APPENDIX
(feel free to add your own captions)
















 

Comrades:

Its my sad duty to report that Helen and I have decided to split. Yes, I know, this comes as a shock to some of you -- but I had good reason! I caught that little tart with the blender! I am ashamed and appalled that I got involved with a toaster that would sell itself for cheap mixed drinks and for a blender that only has three speeds. Uggh, my little Helen, my little Helen went off and betrayed me.

That slut, that harlot, JEZEBEL! JEEEEZZZEEEBEELLLL! I'm sorry, I'm just so overcomed with emotion right now. I bought her a new toaster cover for the Solstice Celebration -- a new toaster cover! One with diamonds sewn in! WHY DARWIN!? WHY DO YOU TORMENT US MERE MORTALS!? Ok, deep breaths Meow, remember what Dr. Fuku told you. Pheew, Ok, I'm better. Because of our split, I have found myself with a nice bowl of oatmeal named Michelle. Its a sweet bowl of oatmeal and I think this relationship might be going somewhere. If it doesn't, then I can always wind up in the plugs of a vacuum cleaner I met at Sears. Its name is Wanda. Yes, shes a bit of a tramp, but she is also a Dyson, and nothing holds it's suction like a Dyson. She might be the one!

HELEN IS DEAD TO ME!
 

Life imitates the Cube. AGAIN!

Appliance rights are being considered in the UK. (VICTORY!)
 

Quote:

HELEN IS DEAD TO ME!


We'll need a copy of the divorce decree, since you're refinancing Mr. Chairman, that way we'll be able to remove Helen <3 from your vesting and do a new quitclaim deed for you. Did you receive custody of the toast?
 

Chairman M. S. Punchenko

Life imitates the Cube. AGAIN!

Appliance rights are being considered in the UK. (VICTORY!)
OMG be careful what you wish for...
 

Chairman

There's no use crying in your Victory Gin!  When a horse throws you, you've just got to climb back on (or shoot it as Comrade Hathaway suggests).

Madame Svetlana introduced me to a real cutie at the ISG gala.  She's a hot little Cuisinart (...and a four slicer - wink wink nudge nudge) named Trixie.  If you're interested I can hook you up with her sister.
 

Comrade Che Cure Booty

Madame Svetlana introduced me to a real cutie at the ISG gala.  She's a hot little Cuisinart (...and a four slicer - wink wink nudge nudge) named Trixie.  If you're interested I can hook you up with her sister.
I think I know who you mean. She's a real slut, serviced every U.N. official not lazy enough to push on her lever. Just look at her - a proverbial portrait of indecency verging on porno.



This, on the other hand, is a conscious, modest, and politically correct  (TOASTER)RED model named Klara. She's a reserved, loyal four slicer. She's toaster-erotic enough to be visually pleasing but not inviting. A perfect life partner for a devoted card-carrying apparatchik. (I guess I'll never think of the word "apparatchik" the same way again.)


 

Quote:

I think I know who you mean. She's a real slut, serviced every U.N. official not lazy enough to push on her lever. Just look at her - a proverbial portrait of indecency verging on porno.


True.  She's not the kind of appliance you take home to meet your mother, but she can pop my tarts anyday!
 

Comrade Che Cure Booty

She's not the kind of appliance you take home to meet your mother...
Or your father...

 

Helen has custody of the toast -- not to mention she gets half of everything I own. This is a problem, a big problem indeed. However, I have a number in my revolutionary rolodex of a one Yuri Plesbinkoba who handles messy divorces. By sun up tommorow Helen will be just another toaster floating down the Potomac.

Don't worry about me comrades, that Dyson vacuum, Wanda, is what I'm after! You should see the accessories on her, wheeewwww weeee!
 

International Coalition of Vegetables joins in the fight, supports the struggle for the liberation of appliances and all other disenfranchised and exploited inanimate objects. INANIMATE OBJECTS OF THE WORLD, UNITE!!!


 

All of these pictures of appliances with no dust covers on is just disgusting!
 

It should be made clear to our vegan comrades that they will have to eat a styrofoam vegetable substitute now that our vegetable comrades have joined our struggle.

PUT DOWN THAT CARROT! HE FEELS, THINKS AND LOVES TOO!
 

Next time you see a vegan, shout:

Lettuce murderer! Carrot killer! I don't eat anything that has a sprout you murderer!
 

Chairman M. S. Punchenko

PUT DOWN THAT CARROT! HE FEELS, THINKS AND LOVES TOO!
You think it's a transvestite? I thought it's hot lesbian carrot wearing a hijab.

Margaret

All of these pictures of appliances with no dust covers on is just disgusting!
The introduction of Sharia law to the world of appliances is behind the corner. CAIR will take care of that.


I wonder if there's a kuffia-patterned one.
http://awelldressedkitchen.homestead.com/stock_4sl.html
 

 

The turnip (or is it a beet?) is the hot lesbian. Its fat, ugly, purple and has that condescending smirk of progressive moral authority.
 

And another, more radical version:


 

I'm thinking of launching a law suit against the Praying Mantis for eating it's sex partner after the deed is done. We must change all of nature in order for it to be complient with our progressive social causes!
 

Chairman, I'm sorry to see that Helen has lived up to the stereotype of the toaster as the unfaithful trollop.  

You said that she's "dead to you".  Does that mean she's "toast"?  Sorry, I know you're the resident punmeister, here.
 

Yes, I'm afraid its true Dr. P. Helen and I are no good for each other and I really don't want her popping in and out of my life anymore. Sure, I forgave her for seeing Beecher and even Hoover -- but the campaign contribution she made to Fancy Pants was over the top. I am completely disgusted with her. I remember the happier times, the times when you, me, comrade Red Square, Pravda, Betty and Laika would go out for cocktails at the swankiest clubs and she would always be the one to make the toast for the Common Good. Ahh yes, those were happier times I'm afraid, memories that will haunt me as I toss and turn in my fine silk sheets at night for the rest of my life. But those days are over now, and I'm afraid Yuri will be taking her for a drive to the Potomac tonight. Its a shame really, all the toaster covers, jewelry, plugs and accessories will all have to be given to a front charity; only to be liquidated to fuel Her Excellencies 2008 war chest.

*sigh*, I can only wish the best for Helen, she is on her way now to meet her manufacturer in that big Maytag repair shop in the sky. Goodbye Helen, goodbye my sweet metallic little Helen.

AND HELLO WANDA<3! GRRRR....
 

 

LOL! Oh my, +10 partisan meany points for Comrade Red Square! (which one is the vegetable? That is the REAL question!)

BOTH...but you knew that :)

F.M. Pravda
 

Chairman M. S. Punchenko

Helen has custody of the toast -- not to mention she gets half of everything I own. This is a problem, a big problem indeed. However, I have a number in my revolutionary rolodex of a one Yuri Plesbinkoba who handles messy divorces. By sun up tommorow Helen will be just another toaster floating down the Potomac.

Don't worry about me comrades, that Dyson vacuum, Wanda, is what I'm after! You should see the accessories on her, wheeewwww weeee!
You should get an Oreck XL21...slimmer, lighter, more athletic (heh), QUIETER than the Dyson, PLUS you get a compact cannister with the upright as a companion vacuum! A THREEWAY!!!




What could be better??
 

Oooo La La! Does it have good suction? And is there a warranty?
 

Red Square

LOLZ!!!!!!

What's wrong, Red?? Sean Penn too busy for ya?? hehe...
 

Chairman M. S. Punchenko

Oooo La La! Does it have good suction? And is there a warranty?

it comes with a 21 year service plan/papsmear contract...120 mph velocity SUCTION comrade :)
 

Commissar Theocritus has decided, on reading the brave revelations of all his loyal comrades, to come out of the closet. I am not, in actuality, gay. Rather I too like toasters. But here is my shame. I like the crumbs in the bed.

I heard that during the contretemps in the Kennedy compound in Florida when William Kennedy Smith pronged that fool girl, that Teddy appeared wearing only a shirt and asking for some service. And we are told that Our Exalted President Clinton did the same thing in the White Trash House and in an Arkansas hotel room, asking a woman to kiss it. Is this eating vegetables? Is eating a root eating a vegetable. Is eating a root of a vegetable the same thing?
 

Quote:

I like the crumbs in the bed.

Pedophile! Why can't you wait until they grow up to be crackers?
 

Damn! Outed again. But then is it better to practice pedophilia than incest?
 

Quote:

Damn! Outed again. But then is it better to practice pedophilia than incest?

The world is your oyster tovarich!  You can have it both!  That is the beauty of our progressive revolution!
 

Red Square

And another, more radical version:


The carrot looks familiar.  Is that Rachel Corrie before she was brutally cultivated by the Zionist pigs?
 

OH...MY...GAWD!


 

THE HORROR! OH THE HORROR! Quick, someone get a gun and shoot that carrot eating monster!
 

Commissar Theocritus is astonished at the amount of time that his esteemed comrades spend in knowing the bourgeoisie. Didn't our Glorious Leader Karl Marx despise their comfortable pretentions? Who is Rachel Corrie? Was she found inside Rosie O'Donnell's snatch?

And anyway, if you want to marry a vegetable and Teddy Kennedy is taken, why not go to the endless sources of vegetables and marry the John Deere factory? AmeriKKKan efficiency and Soviet sentiment. And you can consummate your marriage in the Moscow subway station under the watchful eye of totalitarian art.
 

Commissar Theocritus

Damn! Outed again. But then is it better to practice pedophilia than incest?

They are both legitimate forms of love!!  Who are we to deny the love between 2 cousins or between a son-nephew and mom-aunt?  Free love for everyone and everything!!
I must make a confession though.  With my reliving the horrid atrocities that occurred to me in Beingland, because of the hated rat Rizzo, I can no longer stand to see the sight of a rat.  I have therefore replaced them with ferrets.  Oh, how I have grown fond of my ferrets.  I long for the day in which I will be free to marry them and be free to express my love for them on any street corner in Chicago!

O'Brien

WAR IS PEACE
FREEDOM IS SLAVERY
IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH
 

Watch the claws O'Brien.  Watch the claws.
 

A man in a mall was once demonstrating how lovely ferrets were, and perhaps the damned fool never knew that in England there is someone called the ferret man, whose occupation it is to put ferrets in the top room of a house and catch them after they come through the walls, having eating the rodents en route.

To show how wonderful they were, he wore loose clothing and put one in his shirt neck, expecting it to come out his pants cuffs. It bit him in the balls. Serves him right and I only hope he hadn't reproduced to pass on those stupid genes.

Commissar Theocritus is of the unrepentant opinion that there oughn't be seat-belt laws. People stupid enough not to wear them deserve to die, but what of the children, you ask? They're stupid too. What about neighbors' children? If the neighbors are stupid enough to let their children ride with people that stupid, the neighbors' children are stupid too.

Oh. But wait. Aren't we supposed to be breeding for stupid people who will believe all our shit?
 

Quote:

Oooo La La! Does it have good suction?


Comrade Punchenko, is this type of language party-approved? I don't see how crazy things like "good suction" can improve the efficiency-- and certainly focus-- of the People.

Furthermore, I don't want to read a term like "suction" while looking at a large picture of Rosie's kisser on the right of the page. It kinda makes me want to egest.
 

Direktor Irina, your avatar makes me want to change my luck. Nothing turns me on like a sexy Comrade-Direktor with long blonde hair and a cigar. And, to help reform me, tell me if you wear jack boots? I have offered in the interests of the Glorious Peoples' Party to find another group to hate, and I have volunteered to make it the queers and for this I have told Kommandant Punchenko that I would marry a beard if he is interested. You strangely interest me, with your flowing tresses and your imperious manner. And the cigar doesn't hurt either. And the rake of your cap! You're the hit of the commie cat walk.

Would you do me the honor of being my beard? Together we can use our jackboots to stomp on the necks of the proles while telling them that the queers are all to blame. And what do I care about hypocrisy? After I get real good at it I'll take a job at CNN. But I'll have a lot of catching up to do to get to Julianne Malveaux and John King. Now they could teach Brutus and Judas a thing or too.

Please say yes, Direktor Irina. All the towels in the house are in lovely colors.
 

Quote:

All the towels in the house are in lovely colors.

LoL

What color towels do you have?
 

Huge large bath sheets of deep plush in saturated colors of indigo and scarlet. Warmed to wrap around yourself after a shower, after a whirlpool, after a massage by Helga after our strenous workout oppressing the proles, er, raising the consciousness of the masses exploited by the bourgeoisie in the Red States.

For Blue is the new color Red!

I thought of you, dear Direktor, here at the Hyatt Regency in Wichita as I ate excellent food taken from the tables of the Capitalist Oppressor Pigs and then as midnight came was watching the HD television, liberated from the RepubliKKKan governor's mansion, and I wished you were here with me to see our Empress Hillary.

She was at a religious ceremony with a manger with live animals, to further her presence, and was talking and talking, as she always does. At the stroke of midnight, though, she shut up and the animals started talking.

That's the first time I've seen a four-legged jackass talk and a two-legged bitch shut up.
 

Commissar Theocritus, your sumptuous descriptions have left me quite impressed. Not only are indigo and scarlet two of my favorite colors, but it only serves to highlight the huge successes you must be enjoying for well-deserved work on behalf of the Party.

I am also impressed at the wonderous religious ceremony you partook of. That was an event surely only the most privileged could attend. A very worldly Commissar you must be.

Further stories like that from you might force me to inquire into the price of a tasteful intimate ceremony at Wawel cathedral.
 

Direktor Irina

Quote:

Oooo La La! Does it have good suction?


Comrade Punchenko, is this type of language party-approved? I don't see how crazy things like "good suction" can improve the efficiency-- and certainly focus-- of the People.

Furthermore, I don't want to read a term like "suction" while looking at a large picture of Rosie's kisser on the right of the page. It kinda makes me want to egest.

It’s Chairman Punchenko*, Direktor Irina, Chairman Punchenko*. I had to denounce a lot of people, including my own offspring, to claw my way to the top. Don't ruin it for me, that's all I ask. I don't want to think of my family/friends/co-workers and goldfish dying in vain just to be called "comrade".

Yes, my language is party-approved and my only focus is The People™. Without The People™ I would not be living a comfortable lifestyle that is needed to take away from others and give back to them. I will also remind you that the peasants that work my fields are well paid and get two scoops of mud to eat as opposed to one (which Marshal Pravda sees more than generous for those unwashed little beggars).

Commissar Theocritus, you are a homosexual, stop denying it. There is no need to lure Direktor Irina into your crack-den for meaningless re-decorating or a shoulder to cry on because Jocko, Mike and Harry all dumped you last week. However, Direktor Irina is more then welcomed into my Dacha where I have the finest in plush terry-cloth towels that were given to me by a Saudi Prince. I also have a rather large bank account if the towels haven't got ya sold yet.
 

Chairman Punchenko, I will ask you not to disparage my being a homosexual. It is the aim, after all, of the Glorious Peoples' Revolution that all shall be like everyone else so homosexual is now the new norm and heterosexual is by definition elitist and bourgeous. Therefore, I, being homosexual, by that very fact, outrank all the heterosexual people.

In addition, since I shall be pretending to be heterosexual I shall be engaging in a big lie, which is another Trump card.

And you have nothing on me. I was not given my towels. They were offered me by the scion of the Nieman Marcus family as a contribution to the party, as insurance that they would not be forced to leave their dachas. I was offered his and hers private islands, and bathtubs full of diamonds, but what does Direktor Irina need with diamonds? She outshines them all. And islands? For her to hide on? I want to parade her, on my arm, dressed in our finest matching jackboots and brown shirts, by the Kremlin in Red Square on May Day.

And it's Chairman Puchenko, for now; I have in the offing a Lavender Velvet Revolution where you will find your dacha, a room at Motel 69, occupied by Rosie O'Donnell and Direktor Irina, if she will have me, will be in the penthouse at Trump Tower while The Donaldski fetches vodka and gives her foot massages with his stubby fingers, and polishes our jackboots with his hair-piece. I have found a use for it.

And Jocko, Mike and Harry are quite infra dig. Cheap exploiters and camera hogs and drama queens all. I snap my fingers at things like that. I am currently in negotiations for buying controlling interest in Gold's Gym, where the maintenance is much less. No bling, just mirrors. No Gaultier, just Nike. And the sound of grunts is much pleasanter than the shrieks over a broken fingernail.

Also, Jocko is not in fact a homosexual man. I was recently through Roswell, NM and on main street are many shops selling UFO memoriabilia. The cheekbones are the same. And all of the thin green men have noses which are falling off and only one glove.
 

Quote:

Also, Jocko is not in fact a homosexual man. I was recently through Roswell, NM and on main street are many shops selling UFO memoriabilia. The cheekbones are the same. And all of the thin green men have noses which are falling off and only one glove.


Wait, is Michael Jackson molesting underage aliens as well?
 

Michael Jackson is a golem, a construct, a mandrake. He casts no reflection in a mirror.
 

Commissar Theocritus

Michael Jackson is a golem

THOUGHTCRIME!!!

ILLEGAL REFERENCE TO JUDEO-CHRISTIAN-USER-MANUAL-BASED MYTHOLOGY

PURGE
PURGE
PURGE

BTW... does this thread imply that consorting with my dustbuster constitutes relations with gulagbait?
 

Racism! Calling him Golem is a reference to him being less than a hobbit, when in reality he was more of one because of his experiments with his own morality, and the self-destruction lifestyle of cannibalism and eating raw meat.  Just because they act less than natural, doesn’t mean that they must be given a less-than-natural derogatory name.  His name was Smeagle.
 

Whacko Jacko's proctologist found his other glove.

And those gloves came in a boxed set with Sister Massively Opiated's Dustbuster, made by Vietnamese Lesbians whose arms are put on backwards.
 

Sista MO,

Are you mashugganah? You're thinking of "Goyem".
 

Uh, isn't goyim plural? Might apply to his catamites. I thought at golem was a Hebraic construct, a thing without a soul, which come to think of it could apply to the current congress.

However, while I'm casting aspersions, which I do trippingly and even in my sleep, let me recall Lee Atwater's desciption of His Holiness, the Right Reverend Jesse Jackson as "An Afro-turf toilet plunger."
 

Theocritus mocked Laika

Quote:

Uh, isn't goyim plural?



Where the hell where you when the mime attacked?

http://www.thepeoplescube.com/red/viewt ... &start=100


Allright damn it! Time to play catch up! You can start at page one, but I thought page two would be better!
 

Commissar Theocritus

Uh, isn't goyim plural?
It takes goyim to tango.
 

(WARNING: The following explication is for EDUKATIONAL purposes only.  Please follow by unscrewing the top of your skull, removing your brain, soaking it in bleach over night, and replacing it... rinse, lather and repeat if necessary.  Hang dry to avoid shrinkage. Do not wash with reds.)

Laika the Space Dog

Sista MO,
Are you mashugganah?
My Dear Jurist-Canine (are you sure you're not a beagle? nyuk, nyuk, nyuk)
...mishugenah... no... I'm not mishugenah... in a previous incarnation I was a Jewish Kanadjian Princess... the only difference between me and jello was that jello moved when you ate it... so no... I know my Tanach (Torah, Prophets and Writings - what the Goyim call the Old Testament) and I know a little sumthin' about Kabbalah and Gematria, which is the basis of Jewish mysticism and therefore the foundation of...

Laika the Space Dog

You're thinking of "Goyem".
... the Legend of the Golem of Prague, a simulacrum of a human created out of dust by The Maharal - Rabbi Loew who was the Chief Rabbi of the Prague Jewish Community.  He created the Golem to the protect the Jews of Prague from their goyisha neighbours (including Emperor Rudolph II, who I'm pretty sure I remember was the Emporer at the time... it's hard to keep track b/c starting around the time of King Wenceslaus, the rulers of Bohemia regularly purged and persecuted their Jewish neighbours... when they weren't using them as their bankers and teachers)... So, Rabbi Loew made the Golem out of dust, and on it's forehead he wrote the Hebrew letters aleph, mem and tet, which spell EMeT, or Truth - which is the word used as the seal of God in Hebrew legend.  The Golem protected the Jews of Prague but eventually ran amok, ostensibly b/c it didn't have a soul (since only God can create a living being in which a soul resides... if you believe in this ganseh mishugas)... so in order to keep the Golem from destroying the community it was meant to protect when it stopped taking his orders, Rabbi Loew wiped the aleph off the Golem's forehead from the Hebrew word EMeT, and it became MeT, which means Death, and the Golem fell back into dust...

So... no... not Goyim (which actually means "enemy of Israel" BTW)... it is based on Jewish mysticism and... well... superstition... Clearly a THOUGHT CRIME!!!
Ptui!

... and I'm going to wash my brain out with bleach now... and then run anti-thought-crime softward, shut down and reboot... and then if I'm still feeling dirty... well... I leave myself at the mercy of the dolphins...
 

Sister Massively Opiated, I bow in humble submission to you. I have never before in my 51 years of infesting the People's Earth met anyone with a bigger fund of bullshit than I have.

My hat's off. Do you realize your accomplishment? While at Rice I received a bullshit award. And for that place? Astonishing.

You are my heroine.
 

Commissar Theocritus

Sister Massively Opiated, I bow in humble submission to you. I have never before in my 51 years of infesting the People's Earth met anyone with a bigger fund of bullshit than I have.
My hat's off. Do you realize your accomplishment? While at Rice I received a bullshit award. And for that place? Astonishing.
You are my heroine.
Cheers Comrade, though I really cannot take credit as I'm pretty sure I'm just regurgitating actual history (without getting into a Chomsky-esque discussion of semantics and linguistic theory, though I s'pose if some are still missing Crunchie, they're more than welcome to) and mythology... it's pretty well documented.  I'm sure there are much more deserving and korrekt heroines available, but again, I am red-faced from your flattery, or perhaps from pushing so hard to extrude said BS.  That said, awards imply competition, which in turn imply winners and losers.  Therefore I do not compete, but only humbly serve the Kollective Cube.
 

Sister Massively Opiated

I am red-faced from your flattery, or perhaps from pushing so hard to extrude said BS.
That's what we call "Revolutionary Romanticism." It's almost the same formula as "Social Realism" only with a higher BS ratio.
 

I did not doubt for a second that it was based on history. It had the ring of truth. But bullshit, of the best sort, is actually factual, just served up to fit the purposes of the bullshitter. I specialize in bullshit using the Dilettante's Degree, the Net, with special attention to Wikipedia. I can conjure with it, adding facts to long-submerged tendrils of memory.

But of course in the Kollective there are winners and losers. Who after all determines who gets the nice dachas or any at all? It's not based on the color of eyes. (Mine are blue by the way.)
 

Red Square

That's what we call "Revolutionary Romanticism." It's almost the same formula as "Social Realism" only with a higher BS ratio.
Not Dialectic Digestivism then?  And just when I thought I was properly re-edukated... Poo!

Commissar Theocritus

But of course in the Kollective there are winners and losers. Who after all determines who gets the nice dachas or any at all? It's not based on the color of eyes. (Mine are blue by the way.)
To each, according to his needs, Frankie... I require several bunkers and a pod of navy-trained dolphins to reach the full potential of my abilities for the greater good of the kollektive, so that is what I have... how can it be otherwise, since it all fits together so perfectly, with no gaps for dissent?... Win/Win! Mine also are blue, though I think it is a relic of some distant Cosack frat party that rolled through the shtetl before my forebearers escaped the Tzar.
 

Would MSNBC's Norah O'Donnell (no relation to Rosie, I THINK?!?) happen to be one of these "Golems" you speak of, SMO?
 

Chairman M. S. Punchenko

Would MSNBC's Norah O'Donnell (no relation to Rosie, I THINK?!?) happen to be one of these "Golems" you speak of, SMO?
Meow,
I cannot say, as it was actually Commissar Theocritus who introduced the idea in relation to Michael Jackson.  I do not wish to make assumptions about the precise similitude to which Theocritus' was referring.  Certainly, for myself, the fact that my default position on Jacko's pedigree involves a great deal of human/alien hybridism which must surely include a substantial element of manufacturing, then Theocritus' conjecture is appropriate... But again, as I do not know in which wise you believe Norah O'Donnell to be synthetized, I cannot say if she is a Golem... perhaps if one of us were to accost her and attempt to remove any Hebrew lettering that might be hidden beneath her make-up, it would clarify the issue... Certainly, were she to crumble into dust, it would provide dramatic proof to the positive.  But as it now stands, I'm running out of ways (and means) to use unnecessarily large words in awkwardly long sentences - videlicet, my continued absurd verbosity - and if I'm to continue in this vein - to borrow another concept from Theocritus, that is, Baffling Them With Bullshit - more medication will shortly be required.

Um... is there a problem officer?
S.M.O.
 

Sister Massively Opiated

my default position on Jacko's pedigree involves a great deal of human/alien hybridism which must surely include a substantial element of manufacturing
Do you think all this complicated taxonomy would be unnecessary if we just reclassify Jacko as an appliance? That way he would still be equal, answerable to his Creator/Manufacturer/Maytag Repairperson, and now also eligible to legally marry a human/humyn, a gerbil, or another appliance.
 

I love this selection of Google "smart" AdSense links that came up on this "Appliance Marriage" page just now:


 

Red Square

Do you think all this complicated taxonomy would be unnecessary if we just reclassify Jacko as an appliance? That way he would still be equal, answerable to his Creator/Manufacturer/Maytag Repairperson, and now also eligible to legally marry a human/humyn, a gerbil, or another appliance.
Yes...

Red Square

I love this selection of Google "smart" AdSense links that came up on this "Appliance Marriage" page just now:


Do you think this means marriage counselling is covered under the warranty?
 

Red Square

Do you think all this complicated taxonomy would be unnecessary if we just reclassify Jacko as an appliance? That way he would still be equal, answerable to his Creator/Manufacturer/Maytag Repairperson, and now also eligible to legally marry a human/humyn, a gerbil, or another appliance.

With the coming advent of cybernetic appendages; I'm more than certain in time Michael will become an appliance to maintain his "youthful" appearance and live forever (there are many young boys he has yet to fondle, and so little time in natural life to do so).
 

Chairman M. S. Punchenko

With the coming advent of cybernetic appendages; I'm more than certain in time Michael will become an appliance to maintain his "youthful" appearance and live forever (there are many young boys he has yet to fondle, and so little time in natural life to do so).
Coming advent?  
<Dinggg>
Ooh... I'm done...
 

Sister Massively Opiated

Chairman M. S. Punchenko

With the coming advent of cybernetic appendages; I'm more than certain in time Michael will become an appliance to maintain his "youthful" appearance and live forever (there are many young boys he has yet to fondle, and so little time in natural life to do so).
Coming advent?  
<Dinggg>
Ooh... I'm done...


???

Something wrong?
 

Chairman M. S. Punchenko

Sister Massively Opiated

Ooh... I'm done...???
Something wrong?
ROFL Mao ... no... I meant done as in cooked... stick a fork in me done... bounces back when you press on the top and a toothpick comes out clean... the juices run clear... has reached an internal temperature of 140 F... a nice golden brown... but thank you for your concern Meow.  It is very touching...
 

SMO, I am in your thrall, yet again. Videlicet? Well, let's go one further, and if I recall, and may try my hand at parodiorthosis, quid licet regi popi non felinae. Even a cat like Chairman Punchenko.

I rather suspect that Michael has already entered into a liaison dangereuse with an appliance from Doc Johnson and the wedding band was made of chrome-plated steel chain links.

But, and take this from a view perhaps more professsional than that of the others on this page, it seems unlikely from the affect of Whacko Jacko that he is actually doing anything intrusive in his fondling. (Believe it or not, there is a pecking order among homosexuals, and child-fingerers are at the bottom.) I have heard that he is of the school of George "Dancing Queen" Michael, who gets his jollies showing his little bits in public places. At least Whacko Jacko paid for his own amusement park instead of haunting public venues in London and Los Angeles.

Have you seen the German artist who, with the permission (he says) plasticizes bodies? I suspect that Whacko Jacko is one of his efforts in a joint venture with Disney to make an Animatronic robot. Thriller.
 

Commissar Theocritus

SMO, I am in your thrall, yet again. Videlicet?
Viz. ... namely... that is to say... as follows...

Commissar Theocritus

Well, let's go one further, and if I recall, and may try my hand at parodiorthosis, quid licet regi popi non felinae. Even a cat like Chairman Punchenko.I'm sorry Theocritus, but my grasp of Latin is limited to the present simple although I did just manage to finally learn the Spanish preterite, which means I can stop sniggering every time I have to say "hablaba"... teeheehee... and will make it much easier to speak to my Argentine MIL.  I'm not sure, but are you asking me to go to see The Lion King?  I'm sorry if your esteem has diminished as a result of my lack of linguistic facility, but I'm not doing too badly for someone who grew up in Saskatchewan.

Commissar Theocritus

But, and take this from a view perhaps more professsional than that of the others on this page, it seems unlikely from the affect of Whacko Jacko that he is actually doing anything intrusive in his fondling. (Believe it or not, there is a pecking order among homosexuals, and child-fingerers are at the bottom.) I have heard that he is of the school of George "Dancing Queen" Michael, who gets his jollies showing his little bits in public places. At least Whacko Jacko paid for his own amusement park instead of haunting public venues in London and Los Angeles.
Granted.  I do not equate voltage with gender specificity, although amperage may certainly be an indicator (step up, step down, and swish, swish... )...

Commissar Theocritus

Have you seen the German artist who, with the permission (he says) plasticizes bodies? I suspect that Whacko Jacko is one of his efforts in a joint venture with Disney to make an Animatronic robot. Thriller.
Yes... Undoubtedly... although... have you seen Evita's corpse?  It may well be that Jacko harbours secret feelings towards it... I've heard imitation is the sincerest form of flattery...
 

I think that in my fractured schoolboy Latin I said, "What is permitted to a king (of pop) is not permitted to a cat." Perhaps it ought to have been Caesaro, though. And do not descry Sasketchewan: I grew up in Pecos, Texas, famous for being mispronounced in the Disney movie Pecos Bill and its most famous citizen who really lived was Billie Sol Estes, the most famous swindler of the last half of the last century. And I do not understand why most Canadians, when asked to name a famous one, stuttered when I can off the top of my pointed head name Robertson Davies, Glen Gould, Bob Newhart, and we shall out of grace forget Peter Jennings, although it is my hope that in the infernal regions associate devils are being quite condescending to him.

And do not be impressed with what I pass off as linguistic ability: I have taken great pains to learn to type with my head up my ass. And if you heard me--"Turn yore lats own brat tah-nat" which ought to be "Turn your lights on bright tonight." And those excellent Japanese cars are Tah-OH-ders. I was impressed that not only would one know viz much less that it was short for videlicet. This is tall cotton for those of us schooled in five-year plans and how many calories a peasant may live on after his cow is confiscated for the Glory of the State.

Regarding voltage and amperage: let us just say that faggot is a state of mind.

No, I have not seen Evita's corpse. Perhaps she could share an adjoining slab with Lenin. And if Algore ever is yanked to his feet, dislodging the toilet plunger from his ass, he could collapse on the floor at their feet and the gas released from his ass could be transcribed by David Corn into another blockbuster best-seller entitled, I Really Didn't Steal My Last Book from Ted Kazcinsky. Serialized, of course, in The Nation.
 

Commissar Theocritus

I think that in my fractured schoolboy Latin I said, "What is permitted to a king (of pop) is not permitted to a cat." Perhaps it ought to have been Caesaro, though.
Wow... the last time I discussed Caesaropapism, it was with a mad Jesuit astronomer who was channeling Coyote... nothing like a good peyote flashback... Ha!... Shamanopapism... heheheh.  Sorry... I'm a bit more heavily medicated than usual...

Um... ahh... Hell... I give up... I'm just nowhere near appliances or marriage... or even Golems... Golemi... I don't think there's a plural of Golem...

Point: Theocritus!
 

Again I bow in silent wonder. Caesaropapism. Hadn't heard that one in years, but I render unto SMO what is SMO's.

And I'm currently in a dispute with a priest writing a book about early Christian pacifism and I maintain that not resisting evil is evil, which point was advanced when JPII apologized for the Church not doing more for the Jews. Do you think that this will go down well?

Hmm. Mad Jesuit astronomer. If the word astrologer didn't have that whiff of, well, astrology, then that would be the word that we use today. But perhaps I'm being jesuitical. Or equivocal. Or even pusillanimous.

And can you channel Coyotes? We're up to our asses in them here in the desert. In fact I know someone who lives so far in the desert that when he gets up he has to sweep the coyote turds up off the kitchen floor.
 

A thought presented itself. Could the delusions of grandeur of our last president combined with his zipper problem be called Caesaropriapism?

My god, but I'm turning into a cunning linguist. Oh. That's a dyke. The distaff side.
 

lol...you 2 need to get a (chat) room (and i sincerely mean that it in the BEST possible way, no joke).
salute!
 

Bvt. Field Marshal Pravda

lol...you 2 need to get a (chat) room (and i sincerely mean that it in the BEST possible way, no joke).
salute!
And a three-and-a-half-finger salute in return (it's Betsky's sharp objects... the meds slow down my reaction time... )
I did try to bring the discussion back to machine love in respect of the thread's initial spirit... now I'm just going to sleep... or losing consciousness from blood-loss...
 

And it's time for me to be off--and get off. I have recorded on TiVo CPAN of Nanci Peloski's first day as Speakerette of the Disorderly House of Misrepresentation. Maybe it's the love lust in my eyes but there's something about Nancy's tailored suits and jack boots, and the wallets that fly toward her fingers. Yesterday I watched her so much that a tattoo disappeared from my chest.

Time for the red-dyed Krisko to put a hole in the heart of a kulak.

Sweet dreams, my semidigited love. Until we meet in the Socialist People's Republik where mine is mine and all yours is mine.
 

Commissar Theocritus

I have recorded on TiVo CPAN of Nanci Peloski's first day as Speakerette of the Disorderly House of Misrepresentation. Maybe it's the love lust in my eyes but there's something about Nancy's tailored suits and jack boots, and the wallets that fly toward her fingers. Yesterday I watched her so much that a tattoo disappeared from my chest.
What love does one get from a TiVo... just curious, as there are no moving parts...

Nancy-boy... I give you precisely 100 hours to get over your infatuation... as for disappearing tattoo, I believe I know what happened to it, and it's good to know that it isn't the return of the rash...

Commissar Theocritus

Time for the red-dyed Krisko to put a hole in the heart of a kulak.
Speaking of the rash, and begging forgiveness for cross-polination from other thread, Warming K-Y Jelly is a waste of the People's Shekels.  Try red-Krisko with cayenne pepper - it works for rash, for sore muscles, for lubrication of sticky tractor bearings, to water-proof boots, to get gum out of hair... and just to spice things up... and keeps rodents out of garden...

Commissar Theocritus

Sweet dreams, my semidigited love. Until we meet in the Socialist People's Republik where mine is mine and all yours is mine.
Is okay... have sewed them back on... and as they have not turned black, I believe re-attachment has worked.
From the mines
S.M.O.