Biblical Prophesy

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
21

Behold, more shit cometh this way, via the air moving device.

The bank manager then sayeth unto me, “Yay, verily have we charged you more than $1,000 in fees after accidentally misplacing a deposit and incorrectly bouncing your checks all the livelong day. And yay, we will reverse those bogus charges and add $1,000 back into your balance. Though it be not knownst whither it shall be done. I willst ask my boss. And he shall beget his boss, and he shall beget his boss. And they shall all beget one another whilst your balance remains lowly and humble. If thou wouldst only but hold your breath, thy corrections shall be done. Maybe. Someday.”

Then snootily, the real estate agent spaketh thus: “Behold! You owe me one month’s rent! I have shown you the crappy apartments that I have available, since there is no room at the Inn of She Who Talks to Her Hand. And you shall choose amongst the crappy, crooked, no fireplace, no woodwork, dingy apartments. Then you shall pay the movers! Then you shall pay me, and pay the new property owner. And let there be pet deposits and security deposits! And lo, though there be no money in your account, let there be more than $6,000 of moving expenses!”

And when the smoke had still NOT cleared, and the now nearly homicidal writer ended the phone conversation with Those Who Would Not Pay Her, she beheld her situation. And she declared to all who would hear her tale, “There is not enough Prozac in my diet.”

“Yay, there is not enough Prozac in all of this stress-besotted, brain-rotting, puke-soaked kingdom of hell.”

Hmm…this would be a lot funnier if it wasn’t true.

-L

22

And the Minions of Mediocrity did turn their machinations towards the fair writer, that her luminescence be diminished, and she become like them, and spend the days of her life in pointless drudgery and banality, that they might feel less inadequate.
And they did spew darkness, and despair, and unrealistic deadlines, and unncessessary meetings, and cunning memos, and snide little post-it notes, and unwanted petroleum products upon the fair writer, that her glow might be extinguished, and the world become drab.
But ** Lo!** The more they did heap these iniquities upon her, the brighter did she burn!!! And such was her beauty, that people did come from afar to comfort her, and praise her works, and her wit, and her beauty, and her very being.
And they did thank her for sharing her world with them.
And thay did say unto her that their worlds were the richer for having known her.
And some did say “Hi Opal!”
And as they did exalt the fair writer, so did were they themselves exalted.
And such a blaze of joy and fellowship there was that the Minions of Mediocrity were seared, and did burn, and did flee, and did hide, and did heap their unrealistic deadlines, and unncessessary meetings, and cunning memos, and snide little post-it notes, and unwanted petroleum products upon each other.
And they were forgotten.
And the fair writer became stronger, and wittier, and more beauteous.
And, in time, she did prosper, and share her gifts with more and more people, and was content.
And in later years she did come to a certain old naval town called Portsmouth, England, and did meet with a certain marsupial, and he did buy her a curry.
And it was good.

[sub]OK, so I made the last one up, But the rest is TRUE![/sub]

Hang in there, kid!! :slight_smile:

23

And the Marsupial did weep, and gnash his teeth, and cry unto Heaven, saying "Preview!! Fucking Preview!!**

24

And lo, a great cry arose from the vast Teeming of the Millions that sit at the feet of The Lady of the Quills, and who tremble and cannot speak her true name. And with this cry was great wailing and gnashing of teeth, for they knew in their un-worthiness that they wouldst never see the delight of the sacred blue-and-white pills, for yon quack-bastard-physician didst dutifully conspire with the evil demon-shitting HMO-PIT-of-Mung-and-Offal. And their conspiring didst serve to fully withhold all light and goodness contained within the sacred pills, proclaiming that the supplicant didn’t really need them anyway. And so the supplicant was turned away, forced to meander through the darkness drawing comfort from the only light available to him - the humble alcohol.

Here endeth the reading from the Acts of the Wassails.

25

And lo the multitudes cried out in pain that the one who brought them such joy with wittiness was in pain. And so they sent SexyWriter numbers upon numbers of hugs and chocolate to aid with the mighty prozac and chardonnay.

And unto Verrain great joy was heaped for sharing in his wit and allowing the humble Goddess Obsidian to quote his words with impunity.

Once that was done the Goddess rose up and enjoined everyone to be happy, carefree and insane as is their right.

26

[QUOTE]
*Originally posted by Tygr *
**

O, how thine prophecies have come to light, fair Tygr! Thus, indeed, spake the pharmacist: "Behold, for the bill is unto YOU homicidal writer. Thouh shalst reach into the depths of thou idiot be-crippled bank account and give of your last for this numbing cure. The cesspool which is your HMO hath made a list and this potion dost not maketh the list. All hail the fucking list! On your knees before it!

That’ll be $180, wretched writer. Bow before my power and might."

27

It’s a date! I can’t WAIT to find out what you have in the way of unwanted petroleum products.

Thanks a bunch. Your post made me laugh my head off. Now I can be merrily on my way to see the psychiatrist.

-L

28

For indeed thus sayeth the word:

The wheel of thy life is ever-turning. For as the Lady of the Quills hath stated “In the beginning there was Stress.” And the cure for the Stress is The Pill. No, the other Pill. And the Pill in it’s great-ness shall extract a high price from they that seek to obtain it. And the price shall be an exeeding great Toll on thy Bank-Account. And this Great Toll shall cause thee Stress…

…and the humble prophet cried up to The Lady of the Quills “Great lady, stress not lest ye be stressed! Come, let us get drunk together and offer a sign of a risen middle finger to yon Land-person, Bank-bastard, the Malodorous Bilge-pit HMO, and the Demons from the Ninth Circle of Quality-Assurance which do not include Falcon. And our sign shall say unto all of them that they shoudlst indeed go fuck themselves.”

And High Providence shall smile down upon the musical sounds of ale glasses joining in toasts, the Lady of the Quills laughing once more, and voices saying “Hey, pass that over…”

Amen.

29

[QUOTE]
*Originally posted by Tygr *
**

You’re hilarious! I laugh heartily in your general direction! :slight_smile: Thanks for the giggle. I seriously feel a bit better now.

However, I noticed this sign on the psychiatrist’s door:

Okay, so it wasn’t REALLY there. But it should have been.

-L

30

"A guy walks into a psychiatrists office wearing only pants made from glad wrap. The psychiatrist says ‘Well I can clearly see your nuts.’ "

ba da bing

31

And then I was told, "Son of man, say the words that I will command you to say. Oh landlady! You are great in your power, but I am greater still. Because you have oppressed the Lady with the Quill, my vengence shall fall upon you. Men have come from afar bringing rent checks and all other good things, but now they will do so no longer, and there shall be no rent paid throughout the land. And there shall be rent control, and the rent shall not be raised, no, never. And fathers shall pass this to their sons, and mothers to their daughters, and if they have no sons, they shall find nephews, or those who claim to be nephews, and they shall dwell in the land. And the hordes of building inspectors shall come, and they shall say, ‘It is not meet that the Lady with the Quill is persecuted’, and they shall descend on the land, and with their condemnations smite it most verily.

Oh consulting firm, you have made the paper for the lady with the quill, to defeat her, but it will defeat you. I will make you vomit this paper up, and you shall choke on it. And the clients will come and say, ‘Why must we spend so much on this paper?’, and the vendors will say ‘We have no more paper to give’ Then there will be no more paper. No, verilly, it is gone! It is wiped away like dew in the sun.

Oh, QA agents! You have been reviewed and found wanting, and shall be replaced, and revised, and there shall be no peace until you are reformed.

These are the words that I was commanded to speak.

32

And verily, Captain Amazing did speakest thus with his 500th post.
And there was much congratulation.

33

And behold, one so verily wicked as to be cast from the Heavenly Host by Yaweh’s own hand and flung so violently into the world of men that his wings became singed and blackened, looked upon the plight of the lovely Lady of the Quills and wept with frustration.

“Verily, verily,” sayeth he unto the Dear Lady, “the ‘man’ aforementioned knows naught of wickedness; he is but a putz.”

In a moment of inspiration drawn forth from the blackest recesses of his tattered soul, the FallenAngel didst flash upon a solution to the tribulations of the Lovely Lady: She shouldst be forcibly abducted from the world of men for a time and made to suffer the darkest derivations of pleasure and torment in a location secluded and dark, with much wine and many of the mystical blue and white pills at hand.

And thus would quality be truly assured.

The Fallen One didst look at the potential for carnage, libertinage and true wickedness around him and over the fields of vice, beyond the plains of carnal knowledge and over the mountains of rapturous tumult and seeing that it was good, according to his own definition, didst smile a quaint smile unto himself. “This should help,” he whispered unto the void as he took flight.

34

Hmm. Now this has been a red letter week:

I learned the art of flirting well enough from TruePisces that I made her blush.

Eutychus acknowledged a rather obscure literary reference I made.

and, the piece de resistance, I made SexyWriter giggle!

Now, I could congratulate myself, kick back with a glass of burgundy and a Macanudo and toast my own cleverness (if I really believed that).

But no! I just keep right on struggling, working, racking my feeble brain to try one more time to come up with the smallest kernel of wit, enough to keep up with all the other, far-more-clever-than-I citizens of Dopeland.

<Sounds of Tygr racking his brain> Hrrrgh! Mmmph! Guharrgh…

No use. I’ve worn myself out trying to write all the "thee"s and "thou"s. I thuthpect I might have thprained thomething. Guethth I’d betht thtop now before I get all pithy.

35

“Stressed” is just “desserts” spelled backwards. That’s not in the bible, but I got it direct from my patron saint, the blessed St. Creme Anglaise.

36

Well that explains my previously inexplicable urge to eat an entire bag of Oreos by myself. Trying to reverse the stress. Perhaps I’ll do an experiment and see if it really works.

37

**
Say AMEN somebody! That’s the Gospel truth, brother!

[sub]… and thus offered up the lowly lurker the humble widow’s mite of Dr Pepper amongst the keys of the keyboard[/sub]

38

SexyWriter,

Instead of the Oreo’s, I would recomend you go with the cookies of the Season, THIN MINTS!

Lots and lots of THIN MINTS!
Tyklfe

39

And lo, though it has yet been unwritten, all is calm, all is bright (well, almost) in the land of the writer. And much stress has been banished,and many tensions eased. And there was a ceasing of lamentations. And the people rejoiced and danced and there was open fornication in the streets. (Everywhere but in Rhode Island … go figure.) And at least one humble moderator finally rested well from cessation of worry o’er the Lady of the Quills. And slept.

And promptly fell out the window.

40

It is true! For the writer hath tamed the bank manager with her fiery glare and threats of legal action. And the writer hath tamed the consulting firm in a similar fashion. She stood fearless in their evil presence. It was only on her own sofa, in the privacy of her home that she exhibited the signs of a nervous breakdown. Thus, those who would thwart her beleived they were struggling against a formidable power, and not some freaked out girl, crying in her moon and stars pajamas all day.

-L