That reminds me of a story. A really, really long story...

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

I was browsing through a thread by that one guy. He was talking about this one thing. That got me thinking. Whoo, thinking…

Unless he was really a she. Then the perspective is totally different. Like watching a squirrel waterski. If you know what I mean.

It was like the time I was in the lab. I wanted a beaker of ice water. Not a “beaker” like what the English mistakenly call a mug. Lab-wear beaker, that’s what I’m talking about. I was in the lab and we’ve got lots. It seems like yesterday. It wasn’t, though. It was the day before.

There was no lime to twist into my ice water. I could use lemon I guess, but that’s so passé, so declassé, so toupé, so anything else with an “é”. Just like in the Foreign Legion.

“Captain, oh Captain” I’d call. “There’s no lime for my ice water.” He’d go on and on in some foreign jibber-jabber. That was the Captain for you. Now the Sergeant, that was a man who could get a point across. And the things he’d find for me to do. I’ll bet he had me shine anything that would take a sheen. One time he had me shine the General’s pig. Why a General would have a pig is beyond me. Why said pig needed a shine, ditto. I did one heck of a job on that pig though. It was one glossy pig when I was done with it. Yes sirree, one glossy pig.

They gave me a bad camel in the Foreign Legion. The legs on the right side were shorter than the legs on the left. It would walk in circles. Private Walter Ambrose Montgomery Smith-Smythe had it worse. His camel had a smooth back. They named it “Bogart”. I don’t know why.

When we went to Tibet to have our camels serviced, they cut our yak butter rations. Some things are too much to take. I lit out for the territories. Washing up on the north shore of Australia with my Zippo hand, I realized this was not what I had in mind.

I joined a factory ship headed to the New World. This had me concerned. They didn’t provide space suits. Then I found out the New World is just a fancy way to say “The Other Hemisphere”. So that was OK. On this factory ship we made toilet brushes out in International Waters. You know how just about everything you own says “Made In China” on it? These didn’t. They said “Made”. Toilet brushes made nowhere. It was surreal.

We were to put in at Oaxaca in Oaxaca, Mexico. This also had me concerned. It was 200 miles inland. I asked around. They told me they had a special permit. It wasn’t my boat, so what could I do? Passing through Jerez, I pitied the whole country. Imagine a country so poor they couldn’t afford a simple “W”. The mighty “J” took up the slack, so I guess it’s all right in the end. Isn’t that the whole point? That it’s all right in the end?

NO! The whole point is that The Little Woman just installed Mac OS 9.1, and now we once again have that “new computer” smell.

What’s your story?
-Rue.

2

Let me the first to say, that as long and as pointless as that was, I still laughed very hard at it. Then I made my boyfriend read it. He laughed hard as well. Then we joined the foreign legion.

Jeeves

3

I’m glad you liked it Jeeves. Remember: in the Legion it’s “gauche, droit, gauche” and if you see a pig that needs some shinin’, look busy.
-Rue.

4

Rue …

Whatever that was about, it’s very entertaining. Made me want to go read Beau Geste again.

When I was a kid, I would lift rocks, pieces of rotted wood, planks…anything that might have strange bugs & worms & creatures underneath. I still do this; it’s like finding a little seperate world that nobody else knows about. Earlier this spring I lifted a piece of plywood up at the abandoned AFB near my house. I found a whole nest of little brown & yellow baby snakes. I put my hand down & let them slither through my fingers & test my skin with their little flickery tongues.

Made me feel priveleged for the rest of the day.

It is very important to put the wood or rock back carefully, so as not to squash anything.

Also, I like cheese Doritos dipped in peanut butter.

5

Baby snakes reminded me of something. I’ve been thinking of changing my screen name. Well, not actually changing anything. Just, starting a poll in IMHO to see what people think I should be called. That should tell me what people think of me.

If people think of me. I didn’t get a lot of chatter when I was dead a while back. (No, I’m not going to do a search to find the thread.) That hurt. Here I was, dead and all, and so few people could say “Gee, Rue’s dead. Huh. I guess I’ll miss him some.” I got better, so things worked out nicely. I don’t even have 500 posts yet, so there’s still plenty of time for people to get to know the real me. Or this “fake me” I use to post here on the Boards.

If I did change my name would that affect my persona? Makes you wonder. Well, it makes me wonder. Or wander, but then I might get lost. It’s better to wonder. That way you know where you are. A spiritual GPS would be helpful too.

Trangius. That would be my new name. “The Guy from Trangia”. Not as hot or fast as the ritzier posters, but reliable. That’s what I want to be: reliable. Good ol’ reliable Trangius. It would also imply I run on alcohol. I don’t. I don’t drink much any more. I still like my rum though. Rum and coke, rum and ginger ale, rum and soda with a twist of lime.

There we are back to a twist of lime. Limes are so nice. Nice and limey. Not that they come from England or anything. I guess you could grow them there in a hot house or something.

Hard cider is good, too. If you’ve got scurvy though, rum and soda with lime would be better. It’ll tighten your teeth. Nothing like a good mouth full of tight teeth. That’s my motto. Truthfully, that’s my motto now.

Everyone should have a motto. Jester’s could be: It’s better to seem mature that to actually be tall.

Francesca’s could be: I may be English, but I’ll poke you in the eye. Doofus. (Is it “fran-SES-ka” or “fran-CHEZ-ka”?)

Crunchy Frog could use: Deep fry that bastard.

deepbluesea needs one too: I may be too poor to afford Upper Case Letters and s p a c e s, but I got clean socks.

Yup, everyone should have a motto.
-Rue. (that’s pronounced “negative rue stop”)

6

Oh Negative Rue Stop, your mission in life is clearly to entice me into your evilness.

For what it’s worth, here are my random thoughts from today…

I was on the train home from London, and noticed that for some reason I always look out of the window at the exact moment that we pass over the Thames. Why is this? Does it have some bizarre pull for me? I see it every single time, and passing it only takes a couple of seconds. Why do I never miss it?

The Thames now supposedly has lots more wildlife. I worry that there will be otter-hunting. People will set up camp at the side of the Thames with sharp pointy sticks, wearing otter skins and chanting. It’ll become an inner-city hunting sport thing and men will forego the bars for the thrill of otter-hunting. There will be an otter-hunting culture, with women who love men who love otters. They will do otter dances.

I think usernames do affect the way people think of you. Francesca (Fran-CHESS-ka) is my real name. It’s partly because have no imagination (apart from when it comes to otters), but it’s also because i’m a WYSIWIG kinda girl. Rue - don’t change your name. I like it. It makes you sound cunning yet refined. I shouldn’t worry about people not noticing that you’re dead. They probably were so overwhelmed that they simply couldn’t speak. That, or they simply couldn’t match your magnificence and left the thread cowed by your greatness. There, all better?

Limes. They’re the lemon’s classier cousin. English people and limes - we’re like everyone’s classier cousin. But that would mean everyone else is a lemon. And you are not lemons. No, you are many fruit.

7

<PBS>But, what about Naomi?</PBS>

8

Otters got me thinking… well they OTTER get someone thinking. HA!

Nature is so delicate. The Otters of Tim’s River, the males with their little bowlers, the females with their high button shoes, the cute little baby otters in their tiny sailor suits. Then the Evil Otter Hunters (the hunters are evil, if they were hunting Evil Otters it would be OK) spring upon them, wreaking havoc upon the pastoral splendor. It’s sad really. Especially if the spring upon them in the Fall. The poor otters would be so confused, they’d be greatful to be dead. Even if that meant they’d have to wear tie-dyed shirts. If the Evil Otter Hunters would spring upon the otters, making them fall in the summer… don’t even think about it.

Not to mention the Jackalope. When a sig takes up more space than a post, you have to notice. Not that I’m complaining. Seriously. If you take the time to respond, like I’m gonna crab at the form. I’d crab if you posted “Rue is a big doo-doo head.” This is not the Pit after all. Seriously, Bosda Di’Chi of Tricor you post however you want. Just don’t get stupid about it. If your whole post was “*”, that would just be dumb. Unless some one asked “whut’z a asterisk be lookin’ lahk?”. Then just don’t add your sig. OK?

I was dragooned into environmental clean-up once. The habitat of the North American Belching Recliner Lounger. Yeah, The Little Woman made me clean the house. I have an article from a real parenting magazine that says exposing your children to household dust helps prevent allergies later in life. I had it, actually. I don’t know what happened to it. So I cleaned the house. “Whose coming over?” asked Soupo. The little scamp talks like that, with bad usage and all. “Whose”, ha. Everyone knows it should be “Whom’s”. By I was dragooned. Shanghaied, I say.

Shanghaied. What could be worse than being Shanghaied? Being Ottumwaed. That would be worse. All the disgrace of getting Shanghaied, with the added insult of being in Iowa to have it done. That would be worse.

Iowa’s state motto is not really “At least we’re not North Dakota.” Nope, that is just a vicious rumor. It would be tough to be North Dakota. It would take some serious anthropomorphation. A person couldn’t be a whole state. A King can be the State, but not regular people. A person could be unpopular though. It would make High School tough. All you Unpopular High School Kids, keep telling yourself “I may not be the star on the stage, but someone has to throw the dead cats.” I hope that helps.

Francesca if you take your link in your sig, and update your profile, putting the link in the “Homepage” line, you get an extra icon down there at the bottom of your posts. The more icons you have, the better a person you are. I hope that helps, too.
-Rue.

9

"Who’s Naomi?" :D:D:D:D:D

<jr8 does an impromptu happy Snoopy dance in the middle of his office>

At last! Someone who remembers!!!

You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve been in those “Hey, do you remember…” conversations with people of my own generation, people who grew up on Sesame Street and The Electric Company and Zoom, where I was the only one who remembered the “What about Naomi?” bit from “For Love of Chair”. And then they’d all look at me like I’d asked them to paint their dog purple or something.

Hooray! One less thing in my life I didn’t actually hallucinate!

10

Or one more thing. Or something.

Excuse me, I must go pick up my otter pelts from the dry cleaners now…

11

I was going to stop, and let this thread go away, but jr8 posted. I know how psychicly scarring it can be to kill a thread, so I’ll bear the burden. It’s the least I can do.

Actually the least I can do is stay in bed and just keep breathing. That would be even less that this. (Note: If you want this thread to go away, don’t post. Posting is just a little affirmation to me. It encourages me.)

The dry cleaners (reference to jr8’s post.) are one errend I don’t run. Yesterday I went to the hardware store. I needed a light bulb. It didn’t fit. “How could I get a light bulb that doesn’t fit?” you ask? It’s not easy. Upstairs we had a halogen torchieré. You know the kind. They are ubiquitous. (Sounds like a little-kid swear doesn’t it? “You, you, you bikwitus!”) The bulb burnt out. So, duh, I needed a new one. That meant a trip to the hardware store. Lowe’s in this case. On the way out I spied the old incandescent torchieré in the basement. (Never throw anything out, that’s my motto. My other motto. Motto #1 is still: Nothing like a good mouth full of tight teeth.)

I could have stuck a regular bulb in and been done, but you know I didn’t. I wanted a spiffy high-tech flourescent bulb. 75 watts of light for only 20 watts of juice. This of course is untrue. It’s only 20 watts of juice, the light is measured in grams. If the 75 watt bulb would be good, the 100 watt bulb would be better. It was only 23 watts of juice. What’s 3 watts? So I got the bigger bulb. “Don’t do it, you doofus!” I hear you cry. Where were you yesterday?

The bigger bulb was too big. It stuck out of the top of the lamp. So I went into the basement and switched it out for one of the little bulbs down there. A 60-watts-of-light-for-only-17-watts-of-juice jobby. That fit the lamp fine, and the goofy big bulb is in the basement where no one can see it. Unless it’s on. You still can’t see it, because it’s too bright to look at, but you know it’s there because of the light.

While I was at the hardware store I thought I’d play “Pick Your Own Adventure”. The adventure I picked was: fix the toilet. The toilet in the basement leaks. It doesn’t leak out, it leaks in. The flappy-thing in the tank doesn’t keep the water in. A new flappy-thing should do the trick. Right? Bwa-hahaha! I bought a “universal” flappy-thing. I was only a buck anna half. It should fix any toilet in the Universe, right? It’s “universal”. It says so right on the blister pack. Right above the fine print that says it will fit any toilet in the Universe except mine. Back to the hardware store today. This time, I’m going to a different one. The one next to the Hostess Thrift Shop. A new toilet flappy-thing and a box of day-old Twinkies (or whatever the reason they go to the Thrift Store). Woo-hoo.

You can always count on Bumbazine. I just thought I’d say that. Chcken Joke Back-up Man Extraordinaire. Cartooniverse is a good egg too.

Rmember, only you can let this thread die. Only you. (No pressure there, huh?)
-Rue.

12

Can i come and live in your garden? I’ll be very quiet, I promise.

[sub] You bikwitus! Heee![/sub]

13

Fran, Frannie, Fran-a-lama, Francesca, I would love to have my classy English limey cousin come live in my garden. Small problem though. I don’t have a garden. The Little Woman (only 6" tall!) has a good garden going. She complains about the weeds alot. I don’t see weeds. I see underappreciated wildflowers. Live and let live, and screw the yardwork. (Motto #3. If you would like it, make me an offer.)

I do have a pot of marigolds. Marigolds in a big terra cotta pot. Pretty as can be. I love marigolds. Ever since Kindergarten. They had us grow marigolds in a paper cup. I thing every Kindergarten kinder ever has grown marigolds in a paper cup. Or bean seeds with a wet paper towel in a jar. So you could see the roots form.

If you wanted to live in my marigold pot, that would be great. Bad news, of course. The Little Woman doesn’t like marigolds. She thinks they are just jumped up weeds. The only place I could grow my lovely, lovely marigolds is in the back corner of the dog run. Not a great neighborhood to wear nice shoes. Or go barefoot. I really don’t suggest you go barefoot in the dog run. A big grass toilet, that’s all it is. The flappy-thing doesn’t leak though. Which I guess is a really good thing, seeing as dogs don’t have hardware stores.

Your other option would be my tomato plants. I have two. One is a cherry tomato plant. The other is a big tomato plant. (Big Beefy Steaky Boy variety, or some such. Dunno, I’m not much the farmer.) You could keep the sqirrels out. Damn squirels. It might be hard to get your mail though. “Please post me at the left tomato cage in the back yard.” It would cut down on the credit card offers you get. (Is that the proper “Britishism”? “Post me”?)

You could probably move into the Little Woman’s garden, if you were, as you said, quiet. You might have to rumble with the resident bunny for turf. I think you could take her. She is just a bunny.

There’s a raccoon in the neighborhood, so keep an eye on your stereo. I don’t trust those pesky raccoons. One dumped the grease can out of my grill the other night. Walked right through the mess and left little greasey raccoon footie-prints all over my deck. The rat-bastard.

Looking back, I forgot to say “Hi” to Carina.

“Hi Carina!”

Growning up, did you get a lot of “Cream of Wheat” joke about your name? (See, it’s made from farina, for all you other Dopers that didn’t know.) Kids can be so cruel. You hear that all the time: “Kids can be so cruel.” Like they have a dispensation to be big meany-butts, just because there’s this one saying. Definitely not a motto. Just a saying.

I would never make fun of your name. I like to say it out loud. It’s so pretty. Carrriiiiiina. It makes me wish I could roll my r’s. I can roll my tongue, but that’s different. It’s not a skill that’s as highly prized as you’d think either. Like yo-yo tricks.

Did you see how the last period in my last post was a link? Actually it was the third last. Don’t use it unless you want to. Pretty cool, though, huh? Making punctuation the linky thing. Subtle. Just like me. Joe Subtle. Maybe that should be my new screen name. Or Bob Subtle. Or Biffington J. Grandioso. Yup, all these post just keep goin’ 'round and 'round.
-Rue.

14

While I am far too old to have watched the Electric Company for my own education, I used to watch with my baby sister, who is 11 years younger. Love of Chair was my favorite segment, followed by Fargo North, Decoder.

To this day, I’ll say “What about Naomi?” but no one ever seems to understand…

15

Incidentally, Rue, sorry for the slight hijack-like posting. I find your mottos to be inspiring and your descriptions of dogs sans hardware stores just ripped at my heartstrings.

Will you be my friend?

16

How the Hell did I get into this?
That’s a question I ask myself at least a dozen times a day.
BTW, my days of chicken joking are over. Actually, Cartooniverse egged me into it, but my place in the pecking order has been pointed out to me, and I intend to just roost there from now on. [Jo Anne Worley]“Is that another chicken joke?”[/Jo Anne Worley] Did you know that Jo Anne Worley was the voice of the wardrobe in Beauty and the Beast?
You know, this stream of consciousness stuff is harder than it looks, but then, I don’t grow the same kind of ‘tomato’ plants Rue does.

FairyChatMom, I thought I was your friend. it was the crack about the French maid’s outfit wasn’t it? Sheesh, you make one little suggestion…

Francesca, I’d be having second thoughts about Rue’s garden if I were you. I suspect he has several young women ‘living’ back there.

Bosda and jr8, forget about Naomi. It’s over. She’s moved on and it’s time you did too. Some day you’ll find someone who’s right for you, then you’ll look back on this time and smile.

17

You are my friend, Bumbazine but I’m allowed more than one, aren’t I? Well,aren’t I? Because if I’m not, well, no offense, but… er…

And why should I care about French maids on crack??

Sorry for another hijack, Rue but it’s not my fault. I was distracted. The sun was in my eyes. Someone was at the door. I’ve got a hangnail.

I’ll be sitting quietly in the corner for a while, if you need me.

18

FairyChatMom, technically this thread has been hijacked from about the middle of the OP. No big bigness on any more hijacks. Jack away if it makes you happy. If it makes you uneasy in any way, I’ll try to be kind. Every one wants an easy FairyChatMom.

If you want to be my friend, that would be neat-o. There are no fees and you get a free motto. (Friendly friends are the best friends a friend could have.) If you don’t like it you can trade it in at any time and get full credit at the gift shop.

Bumbazine you did a fine job. Not that any one keeps score. This is like Knothole Baseball. We do it for the fun. We sure don’t do it for big-money shoe endorsements. I haven’t worked up a custom motto for you yet, but if you tell me what you’re looking for, maybe I can find something in the back. Here’s one that I found laying around: You can lead a whore to water, but if you throw her in her mascara will run. It’s the same deal as for FairyChatMom, if you don’t like it, see the gal in the gift shop.

Stop for a piece of cherry pie if you’d like. Mmmm pie. Pie is pretty darned good. With a big glass of milk, it can’t be beat. Unless you’ve seen where milk comes from. Not the grocery store either. The organic container with the convenient pour spout.

If anyone else needs a new motto, just let me know. I can’t guarantee the size or color, but I’ll do my best to match you with something you can live with. I can do catch-phrases too, but that’s a custom job with way more labor. It gets pricey.
-Rue.

19

Sure, sign me up for a new motto. ‘Never turn down a good deal, especially if it’s free’ that’s always been my motto. But not anymore, I guess. If Rue DeDay comes through then I’ll have a brand spankin’ new motto. I can show it off to my friends, maybe have it carved in my tombstone, it’ll be great.

Until recently I had a brand spankin’ new car. Nothing special, a Corolla CE (that stands for ‘cheap edition’), but it was new and shiny. Then somebody left turned through a red light right in front of me, and that was all she wrote.

But she didn’t write that, I just did and I’m a he. That was all he wrote doesn’t quite have the same ring to it though. And that isn’t even everything I wrote, because I’m still typing. I think there are a lot of phrases like that, phrases that are useful for conveying a general mood or broad idea, but when you focus in on the details they’re really just a bunch of lies.

Then again I’m not really against lying in all its forms. Sure it’s wrong to walk into a hospital, pretend to be a doctor, and start dispensing all sorts of medical advice. But there are plenty of situations where a lie is the most convenient verbal shorthand for getting out of a conversation or to avoid hurting someone’s feelings.

Another way to get out of a conversation is to turn tail and run. This works especially well in large open areas, and if you’re fairly fast. Then again I doubt many people would really chase after you just to continue a conversation. Unless it was a conversation with the police. And especially if they have some guy from COPS filming then. I can practically guarantee they’ll come after you then, so you’d better be able to haul ass.

20

now there’s a motto if I ever saw one… or a bumper sticker… or maybe a t-shirt…

Not that I’m easy, mind you, but I can be amenable if conditions warrant. Tho most of the time, I’d rather read a good book or trim my toenails. Simple pleasures are the best - don’t you agree?