Hey - there’s the next MMP - Guess what’s in Rue attic!
My pleasure - truly! 
Orrrrr…
Guess what’s in Rue’s rum.
-Rue. (no parenthetical addition)
First, it says Hamilton, but I am a Quebecker, born and raised. Heck, I’ve had one at the restaurant where it was invented. As for getting poutine here…well we can, but it’s crappy. Which is why I enjoy going home to have a good poutine, or bringing cheese back for it (though real curd cheese only lasts a couple of days, so we tend to eat it right away). Once I graduate, I am moving back, because I dislike living here enough to not do it longer than I have to.
Secondly, if you put the hot gravy on last, you eliminate that pesky waiting part, and you can get right down to scarfing down that poutine the way it was meant to be eaten!
Yes, but it’s so much better if you let the gravy soak into the fries. The anticipation heightens the pleasure, too, as you sink your teeth into the splendid, cheese-covered fries, dripping glorious gravy…
Oh, sorry, Kn(*)ckers.
And of course reall cheese curds are one of the finest things on this planet. That reminds me, (enormous hijack) there’s a real barbeque (as opposed to grilling) competition being held at the St. Lawrence Market this weekend. And a small distillery craft beer fest.
Cheerios would make excellent ant life preservers- they’re food, and they float! Someone should apply for a government grant to research ant lifesaving techniques relating to breakfast cereal.
If this thread comes in lower on the lists than welby’s thread from last week, I’m not doing a MMP next week. He’ll have to. (Just see how long he can bait Ex and hit on the lovely and tallented Wintermute.)
That’s all I’m saying about that.
-Rue. (warningly)
Awwww, Rue, sweetie, you know the welby-thread was just a fluke. He had to resort to cheesy sex-and-violence to hold his audience. How long can that last? You, on the other hand, have a reputation for class and quality and poignancy and, um, well, you’re the original MMP-guy.
No wait, you were the original Uncle Rue Story Guy - certainly that’s what drew me into the Rue lovin’ fold. And I know there was going to be a point there, but I kinda forgot in my reverie about the early days…
When you come right down to it, no one can take your place. And I’m not just saying that because I’m your #1 Special Friend. I speak the truth. No kissing up here. Nope. Not my style.
If Rue quits, so do I.
That’s all I’m saying about that.
-Ex. (jumping on what may be his last opportunity to sign a post)
Oh sure make me a rue addict and then bail waaah I always get on the train just before the last stop!!!
Lemme grab a virtual tin cup and we can take donations to keep rue MMP’ing till the cows come home. Not that I have any cows. My aunt has cows. She lives in Vermont. I think you have to have a cow to live in Vermont. 
I’m sorry Rue, truly I am. I even bumped this thread with my story about the horses just for you. Plleeaasse don’t leave!
If you like, we can move the sex and violence over here. It’s no problem at all.
Rue! You should be ashamed! You know I was just a filler. I suspect that people are still posting to the other thread only because they’re interested in my battle with Exgineer over the wooing of the wonderous Wintermute. If it weren’t for that the thread would have died on the first page.
I’m not capable of filling in for you on a regular basis. It took me a whole week to get prepped for the last one, and I had to get drunk to make it interesting. You don’t want me to wind up and alcoholic, do you?
And just 'cause I love you, I’ll bring a little sex and violence over here too:
I’m gonna beat up Exgineer then take Wintermute to the Bahamas and have sweet, sticky sex with her for a week.
How’s that?
Um, I still want to talk about rats. Can I do that? Cause dwyr’s non-talking sleeve-eating rat story reminded me of a talking, pants-eating rat story. It goes like this:
One time, (not at band camp) I left my nicest pants a little too close to the rat cage. Then I went to sleep (on account of it being nighttime, and my species being primarily diurnal). The ratties, being industrious (and wakeful) little ladies, decided they liked my pants a lot, and reached up their noses through the bars at the top of the cage, grabbed the right leg of my pants, chewed and chewed until they had gnawed it off, and pulled it into their cage to make a Nice Cuddly Thing.
I woke up the next morning, and what to my wondering eyes should appear, but my severed pants in a heap on the floor, and two little ratties, snug as a bug in a rug, curled up in what remained of my pants leg!
They said, “We didn’t do it! We just found it this way!”
I tried to be mad at them, but it was pretty cute. I was more careful about where I left my clothing after that, though my roommate failed to learn the lesson, and lost the corner of her wool blanket in exactly the same way. It was funnier when it happened to her.
Oh Rue! There’s no better MMP’er than YOU! Welby did a commendable job while you were away, but please, please, please don’t bail out!!!
no more bumping, we can’t be Rue-less!!!
:eek:
Bump.
I just don’t respond well to threats.
That is, without a doubt, the best offer I’ve ever had. When do we leave?
Say, speaking of Exgineer, where is he? I ran a search, and he hasn’t posted since yesterday.
Welby, is there something you want to tell us?
Ex was just here this morning. Unless that was his doppelgänger up there. You never know. And I never thought I’d get to use the word doppelgänger in a post. Whoohoo!
And of course I had to go look the word doppelgänger up. 'Cause it might not mean what I thought and then I’d look all silly and everything. But according to the American Heritage Dictionary it means "A ghostly double of a living person, especially one that haunts its fleshly counterpart. " So I guess I used it rightly enough. Doppelgänger also can mean a fetch. But I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t want your dog to come back with one.
In a fairly unrelated vein, just because it popped into my spongy brain, I mention that I like to refer to myself as egregious. Which sounds mighty bad except that egregious comes from some of them there Latin-type roots meaning basically outside the herd. And that’s definitely me.
Way outside.
[sup]There’s only five "and"s in this post. Sure seemed like I typed a bunch more than that.[/sup]
I hope his nose is okay. . .
So, this has to keep going for at least four pages. Okay.
No one has responded to my Cheerio/insect research suggestion. I thought it was a fine idea. It’s almost as good as having a Swiss Army nose-protector for winter, with a reflective mylar lining, and a miniature kettle to make you tea if you’re trapped in a snowbank.
So, dwyr is paying attention, and Wintermute isn’t. Interesting.
I’m back, I just had that pesky thing called “work” distracting me all day. At this moment, I am enjoying something called “free time.” Before I discovered the SDMB (c. late 1999, it just took a long time for me to get up the gumption to register) my “free time” was wholly occupied by my books.
It didn’t really matter what sort of books either, math texts, history, heat transfer, science fiction, combustion mechanics, it just didn’t matter. I had my books. Since my epiphany, it’s about 50-50. Freetimewise.
As I type this, I’m sipping on a gin-and-tonic, and enjoying it immensly. I mention this for the expressed purpose of irritating certain posters. Actually, just one poster in particular.
Rats: I don’t know what to say about rats. I have never in my life been exposed to rats in a “pet” context. I usually encountered them in the “vermin” context. Got rats in the communal basement of the mill houses, which were converted into apartments? Kill as many as you can. Got rats in the barn? Exterminate.
I don’t like rats much, neither.
Illness: I’ve got nothing, except that my new boss seems to be developing a summer cold. Summer colds are the worst. Since I think my new boss is getting one, I say “good.”
Horses: I tried to help a relative re-shoe a horse once when I was about eight years old. Danged thing punted my head like a football. When I was in nursery school (3 or 4 yrs. old) we went on a field trip to a farm. Like I’d never seen one of those before. Anyway, a random horse grabbed my little shoulder in its mouth and started shaking me. Didn’t let go until my flailing little fists impacted an eye. Did I say that I don’t like horses? If so, I have a correction to make.
I hate horses.
Swimming pools. Don’t get me started. It’s a Pit rant. With cussing, and I don’t cuss.
Sex and violence: To be honest, I was starting to get a bit uncomfortable. Since I’m an abject coward, I bailed out.
Dopplegangers: How did you get an umlaut, dwyr? “Umlaut” needs an umlaut too, as long as we’re here. Of course, there are also shades, spectres, wraiths, and ghosts. These things may be easily dealt with. Weirds, on the other hand, are tough. Undefeatable, even.
I am webly’s weird. He just doesn’t know it yet.
I seem to be running out of steam here, so I shall explain my motivation for posting the above stream of nonsense:
[ul][li]It seems appropriate for an MMP thread, what with the disjointed rambling and all.[/li]
It means that Rue , and not welby, will be posting the MMP on Monday[/ul]