Passing exgineer a duck…
How about rabbits for the moat? And I think you all know just what I mean…
Oh, no! Not the fearsome and deadly Moat Rabbits!! Are you insane? Have you no conscience? Think about the children!!!
Not only that, but their fur clogs the Moat Filter, and I’m not cleaning it. I want that made clear right up front. There are certain things I will not do and cleaning Moat Rabbit fur out of Moat Filters is right up there. And what about the platypus? And, for that matter, what about Naomi?
I’m beginning to wonder about you people.
Ah we can post if we want to,
We can leave the moat behind
Cause your platy don’t post and if they don’t post
Well they are no pals of mine!
I say:
We can post what we want to,
A post where they will never find
And we can act like we come from out of this World
Leave the rabbits far behind!
And we can post…
-Rue. (without hats)
Aw jeez, you post a couple of Rue-style posts and the next thing you know he’s taking my parody shtick, and doing it better than I ever could.
I think we should make the moat a double moat, with a ring around Castle Rue, then a strip of land, then another ring of moat stuff. In the middle we can put a bunch of trees and populate them with flying squirrels. Nothing more deadly than a squirrel paratrooper. We could make them stay in the middle by putting those Sentry collars on them so that they won’t stray too far from their patrol area. Last thing we need is a bunch of squirrel paratroopers terrorizing the neighbors.
Exgineer, I’ll give you five bucks for lesson on being a Rue Insider.
One would thing that you’d have had enough of the squirrels by this point.
Five bucks, eh? Not enough, even though I acquired my knowledge for free.
FCM, you are, of course, completely justified in your horror. We must always think of Naomi…(bowing head in silent prayer vigil complete with quiet candle). How about dust bunnies? I have an entire collection right here at my disposal. Oh wait, I see welby has proposed parashooting squirrels over a double moat. And Rue is singing. Would you like to hold my candle, Rue?
I could play Kumbaya on my guitar. But I won’t hum. It makes my lips itchy.
Oh andFCM, I would love to do prom night. And I can reciprocate in several weeks when I face the same. Of course, I won’t actually have any money left by then to buy pizza, after the prom that won’t cost me a penny cause he already bought the tickets and her cousin has the perfect dress. Of course she will need shoes and a jacket and her nails done and she can’t possibly go with her hair looking like that and the dress, although perfect, is white and makes her look pale and do you remember that perfect dress we saw when we were out spending the grocery money on the semi-formal dress that she could wear to countless other occassions and did she mention the limousine?
Man, what a piker. Ten bucks and I’ll send you my designs for the platypus-proof suit.
Instead of two moats, can we have a moat and a ha-ha? That would be cool, having my own ha-ha. (I learned about them from Terry Pratchett. Now I gotto go make sure they’re real. Yeah, they are.) I figure the moat would go near the house, then the ring of flying squirrel paratrooper-infested trees, then the ha-ha (also called a “sunk fence”, but that’s a less cool name). That way I get a wall on the outside and it doesn’t impede my view. Maybe we could have a few shrubs too. But not yew bushes. I REALLY hate (hate, hate, HATE) yew bushes. Luckily the new house doesn’t have yew bushes. Although if it did, that would give me an excuse to buy a chainsaw.
Oh look welby! A song I did a whiles ago! The Ballad of the Ground-Weasel-Boy. Yeah, that was a good one. And check the date. It’s oooold.
Watch the guitar Salem, Snickers has her own acordion. If she thinks there’s a hoot-nanny afoot, who knows what might happen.
-Rue. (using “impede” and “hoot-nanny” in the same post)
I also play guitar - have I ever mentioned that? I keep my guitar at my bedside. I think I may have played it once in the past year.
The accordion, on the other hand, is in my closet behind my hamper. I moved it a few months ago when I cleaned out the closet. I can’t remember the last time I played it. It’s blue - have I ever mentioned that? I have a photo somewhere of me in costume and red hair playing my accordion. I look like I’m on drugs. I wasn’t, honestly, but the photographer caught me with a strange expression on my face. That was a hoot. Sans nanny.
I still have the costume, but my hair hasn’t been red for a long time. And accordions are painful for the chestally endowed. Even if you don’t play naked. Have I ever mentioned that?
I also play guitar - have I ever mentioned that? I keep my guitar at my bedside. I think I may have played it once in the past year.
The accordion, on the other hand, is in my closet behind my hamper. I moved it a few months ago when I cleaned out the closet. I can’t remember the last time I played it. It’s blue - have I ever mentioned that? I have a photo somewhere of me in costume and red hair playing my accordion. I look like I’m on drugs. I wasn’t, honestly, but the photographer caught me with a strange expression on my face. That was a hoot. Sans nanny.
I still have the costume, but my hair hasn’t been red for a long time. And accordions are painful for the chestally endowed. Even if you don’t play naked. Have I ever mentioned that?
Coffee came out my nose, Ex*! Do you know how painful that is? And you owe me a new keyboard from the ensuing dribblage. 
- Can I call you that?
There goes Rue tooting his own horn again. Perhaps laying off the midnight chili-cheese dogs will help that. Tooting, as I said, is bad manners young man!
As for the song, not bad Rue, but nowhere near the caliber of your stories. Also nowhere near the caliber of your Platy-post song.
Why, no, FCM, I hadn’t heard mention of the guitar or the chest, but now that you’ve said it twice, perhaps you weren’t in fact talking to me. Unless, of course , one of the times you were talking to me. I also play piano, but have never strapped it across my chest. Although I might have played in the nude just once. It was much harder to slide across the piano bench, though, so I stopped.
Maybe we could form a band. We could wear our instruments instead of clothes. Rue can toot and wintermute can dribble. welby can play the platypus. exgineer, being high atop Mt. Albany, can probably yodel. We can be the Tooting Rue’s.
Any other talented dopers are welcome to join. Provided you can make noise or wear an instrument, of course.
Whoo-hoo! Official invitations to lunch, dinner, and breakfast! I have at least one gauzy low-cut shirt around here. I’ve got to find it. Let’s see…
I also wear short skirts. and I bellydance. Have I mentioned that?
I have no problem dressing skanky for food. I think that sentence has definite sig possibilities.
There’s a stufed platypus around here somewhere, too. No, I don’t think I overfed him. No, that’s not why he’s stuffed. Is “plush platypus” better?
I’m leaving for the weekend in fifteen minutes, so hold the Fedex chocolate and roses deliveries until Monday, okay? Thanks. I’ll bring y’all a nice piece of Ottawa. Maybe a rock or something.
OK, to clarify, the double post was not my fault! It’s a plot, I tell you!
To continue, I have also been known to play at the piano, sorta self-taught but not too accomplished. I think it’s because my left hand learned to chord with buttons and with frets and it doesn’t like to chord with keys. But I bought a piano when I was in college and a few years ago, my daughter took lessons. She still plays it a bit once in a while, and I’ll be giving it to her when she moves. Unless she doesn’t want it.
My piano bench is upholstered in a pumpkin-colored velour, so it’s not slidable either. And I don’t play piano nekkid, although I’ve played in a robe and slippers.
Oh yeah - and the aforementioned daughter got her prom dress at a consignment store and she intends to take it back there and sell it after prom is over. I paid for the dress and the shoes and a necklace that she liked to go with it. She bought the strapless bra and she’s paying for her own up-do. I’m letting the kids go in my van so all 5 can ride together (one girl recently broke up with her b/f so she’s going stag)
I never went to a prom - have I ever mentioned that? I was shy and didn’t date till I was almost 20. How sad is that? No one ever gave me a corsage. I never had an up-do. No photos of me standing next to a gawky boy in a powder-blue tux. I feel so deprived. 
Rue, honey, I know from your autobiography thread that you are about the same age as me, and, as a peer, I’m just going to have to say…it’s time to stop watching I love the 80’s. In fact, you may have to give up VH1 altogether. There’s lots of cool new music out there just begging to be parodied. Trust me on this. 
I can do more then dribble! I can spew, spit and drool musically as well. I am a very talented person.
I went to a church school. Dancing was forbidden (so Footloose!). So, no prom for me, either. Feel better? Bondage! (as my sister used to say, indicating not whips and chains, but a feeling of togetherness.)
Around here, we call “chili cheese dogs” cheese coneys. I’m not sure why, but probably because chili dogs were called (and still might be for all I know) Coney Island hot dogs or just Coney Islands. (The word “coney” already looked odd to me and I had to look it up and make sure I was spelling it right. I was. Of course.) And because why say more than you have to just to get chili on your hot dog, that became just a “coney”. Put cheese on it, and it’s a “cheese coney”. So there you go. Put some weinie mustard and onions on it, and you have the food of the gods. Not real high-class gods, but sometimes you just take what you can get in the divinity department. (Right next to “young men’s” at Sears.)
Even more locally (like not in the city, just in our house, in the middle of the street, our house) they’re called “cheese ponies” because when Soupo first started asking for them, he knew what a pony was but a coney was a mystery. So here they are cheese ponies.
And I think the band should be called “Platypus Sandwich” as a nod to RT.
-Rue. (with mustard and onions)