BlackBart wrote:'Fuck off Jennifer' T-shirts are available in foyer. £20.00
Won't help. We'll still get smelly under-bridge dwellers from Ratskep hanging around here.
They can't take a hint.
BlackBart wrote:'Fuck off Jennifer' T-shirts are available in foyer. £20.00
The brilliance...the brilliance...Fallible wrote:I'm glad you asked me that question. I have been interested in stupid from an early age, and hoped to have a career in it some day. Stupid was offered as an option at my school so I took that, got an A*. I then took a Bachelor's degree in Stupid at university. There followed a period of many years during which I observed stupid in the field - I found the internet held a wealth of information on this topic. However actually being stupid continued to elude me. I knew all the gestures and jargon by heart, but something prevented me from making that final leap. I was stumped. I admit that for a time I felt lost in a kind of wilderness, a rudderless dinghy adrift, floating forlorn on a cold sea of confusion and self-doubt. Then I came across your posts. They shone out across that ennui tinted canvas as beacons of pure intent. Pages and pages of backwards bum gravy that was so arse achingly stupid that it threw into sudden and sharp relief my own paltry accomplishments in this area. Advisories and warnings would come urging you to rectify your avalanche-arresting, coma-inducing bollocks, but still you held firm. Seemingly endless fatuous twaddle fashioned deep within the stultifying wilds of your lower intestine and plucked forth in a dun-coloured, stinking lumpen rope to lie unabashed across the forum, as if mocking one to do something, anything, with it. And yet....and yet. From time to time some brave Icarus of the Internet would take up the gauntlet and attempt to approach the stupid. They would try to warn him, oh god how they would try. But its full strength was sometimes hidden from view until one got close enough, by which time it was far too late, and invariably Icarus did not heed their impassioned cries. Many a brave and noble warrior set out with a clear mind and a hopeful heart, only to return a broken and jibbering wreck having flown too close to the stupid. Like a kind of idiotic sun it hangs, powered by the mass of its own drooling mongness, burning to ashes anything which passes within 100 miles. It was at that time that I suddenly realised that my life's ambition had been nothing but an ill thought out pipe dream. Compared to the stupid I was witnessing with your every puerile, mind numbing, infantile non sequitur, I became more keenly aware that I was but an amateur stupid, a day tripper to the land of the dim whose supersaver pass had only 45 minutes of use left, my pathetic efforts at stupid dwarfed by a true master of the genre. There followed a period of deep depression as I struggled with the knowledge that the goal which I had set my mind to accomplish from an early age was so far beyond my grasp as to be entirely unachievable. For forty days and forty nights I roamed the desert, starving, thirsty, naked, battered and bruised by my own hand - I would thrash myself bloody while howling and raving at the moon. Three of those days were spent rolling around on the ground, gnashing my teeth and fapping furiously over a mental image of your stupid. On the second Wednesday I tormented people at a bus stop by shouting show tunes at them. It was without a doubt the darkest time of my young life. I will never know how I did not lose my mind entirely, but God must have been with me, and finally I began to come around. I picked myself up, stopped shouting at people. Then after I got dressed, I immediately went into intensive counselling, where it was discovered that I had repressed memories of being abused by a hermit crab. I was then prescribed daily cardigans and 50 mg of chamomile before meals. Three years later I emerged, feeling like a million dollars. Sure, I still sometimes whimsically ponder what it would be like to be stupid. But I now realise that life is not for me, and I respectfully doff my cap to you, rainbow. You have succeeded where I so completely failed. I hope that by sharing my story here, others will spare themselves the pain both of attempting to deal with stupid, but also of building castles of stupid in the sky. Thank you for your time.
I suggested a "no rules" zone at RatSkep (and RDF before it) long ago. Doesn't fit with the psychopathic need for control on the part of the control freaks in charge over there.tattuchu wrote:I'm always stumped. I'm an amputee
Hey, I've got a good idea. Why don't we merge the two forums? It's kinda slow here. And we're really very fond of the members at RatSkep, having known most of them from the RDF days. Instead of convincing RatSkep folks to post here more, I think it would be easier if the few of us that are left here would simply transfer over to RatSkep.
I know there are differences in the forums and the type of posts we make would often not be appropriate for RatSkep, but I've got a solution for that: create a sub-forum. Sort of a Ferguson, if you will, where the undesirables (that's us) could rape loot and pillage to our heart's content without harming the greater and more respectable society that is RatSkep, since we'd be segregated and relegated to our own little subforum exclusively. This might also be of great benefit to the many many member over at RatSkep who so often get suspended or banned. Rather than being banished completely, they might simply be relegated to the subforum for a bit of slumming until such time as their punishment has expired.
I think it's a dandy idea.
"Give me your tired, your poor, your tired, poor.Seth wrote:I suggested a "no rules" zone at RatSkep (and RDF before it) long ago. Doesn't fit with the psychopathic need for control on the part of the control freaks in charge over there.tattuchu wrote:I'm always stumped. I'm an amputee
Hey, I've got a good idea. Why don't we merge the two forums? It's kinda slow here. And we're really very fond of the members at RatSkep, having known most of them from the RDF days. Instead of convincing RatSkep folks to post here more, I think it would be easier if the few of us that are left here would simply transfer over to RatSkep.
I know there are differences in the forums and the type of posts we make would often not be appropriate for RatSkep, but I've got a solution for that: create a sub-forum. Sort of a Ferguson, if you will, where the undesirables (that's us) could rape loot and pillage to our heart's content without harming the greater and more respectable society that is RatSkep, since we'd be segregated and relegated to our own little subforum exclusively. This might also be of great benefit to the many many member over at RatSkep who so often get suspended or banned. Rather than being banished completely, they might simply be relegated to the subforum for a bit of slumming until such time as their punishment has expired.
I think it's a dandy idea.
Better refugees should come here, to the land of relatively free speech.
We had one of those before you became a refugee. It turned into a clusterfuck immediately and was abandoned a few days after it started.Seth wrote:I suggested a "no rules" zone at RatSkep (and RDF before it) long ago.
I wouldn't know.Seth wrote:The brilliance...the brilliance...Fallible wrote:I'm glad you asked me that question. I have been interested in stupid from an early age, and hoped to have a career in it some day. Stupid was offered as an option at my school so I took that, got an A*. I then took a Bachelor's degree in Stupid at university. There followed a period of many years during which I observed stupid in the field - I found the internet held a wealth of information on this topic. However actually being stupid continued to elude me. I knew all the gestures and jargon by heart, but something prevented me from making that final leap. I was stumped. I admit that for a time I felt lost in a kind of wilderness, a rudderless dinghy adrift, floating forlorn on a cold sea of confusion and self-doubt. Then I came across your posts. They shone out across that ennui tinted canvas as beacons of pure intent. Pages and pages of backwards bum gravy that was so arse achingly stupid that it threw into sudden and sharp relief my own paltry accomplishments in this area. Advisories and warnings would come urging you to rectify your avalanche-arresting, coma-inducing bollocks, but still you held firm. Seemingly endless fatuous twaddle fashioned deep within the stultifying wilds of your lower intestine and plucked forth in a dun-coloured, stinking lumpen rope to lie unabashed across the forum, as if mocking one to do something, anything, with it. And yet....and yet. From time to time some brave Icarus of the Internet would take up the gauntlet and attempt to approach the stupid. They would try to warn him, oh god how they would try. But its full strength was sometimes hidden from view until one got close enough, by which time it was far too late, and invariably Icarus did not heed their impassioned cries. Many a brave and noble warrior set out with a clear mind and a hopeful heart, only to return a broken and jibbering wreck having flown too close to the stupid. Like a kind of idiotic sun it hangs, powered by the mass of its own drooling mongness, burning to ashes anything which passes within 100 miles. It was at that time that I suddenly realised that my life's ambition had been nothing but an ill thought out pipe dream. Compared to the stupid I was witnessing with your every puerile, mind numbing, infantile non sequitur, I became more keenly aware that I was but an amateur stupid, a day tripper to the land of the dim whose supersaver pass had only 45 minutes of use left, my pathetic efforts at stupid dwarfed by a true master of the genre. There followed a period of deep depression as I struggled with the knowledge that the goal which I had set my mind to accomplish from an early age was so far beyond my grasp as to be entirely unachievable. For forty days and forty nights I roamed the desert, starving, thirsty, naked, battered and bruised by my own hand - I would thrash myself bloody while howling and raving at the moon. Three of those days were spent rolling around on the ground, gnashing my teeth and fapping furiously over a mental image of your stupid. On the second Wednesday I tormented people at a bus stop by shouting show tunes at them. It was without a doubt the darkest time of my young life. I will never know how I did not lose my mind entirely, but God must have been with me, and finally I began to come around. I picked myself up, stopped shouting at people. Then after I got dressed, I immediately went into intensive counselling, where it was discovered that I had repressed memories of being abused by a hermit crab. I was then prescribed daily cardigans and 50 mg of chamomile before meals. Three years later I emerged, feeling like a million dollars. Sure, I still sometimes whimsically ponder what it would be like to be stupid. But I now realise that life is not for me, and I respectfully doff my cap to you, rainbow. You have succeeded where I so completely failed. I hope that by sharing my story here, others will spare themselves the pain both of attempting to deal with stupid, but also of building castles of stupid in the sky. Thank you for your time.
Why bother?BlackBart wrote:Perhaps you should report them to the mods. Maybe that will help?
Rainbow might have started reading. If he is like me, he would have had an inkling of where this post was heading by the time he read the first 17 words, and found confirmation before he got a third of the way through the reply. By then it would have also occurred to him that it is one of those verbose attempts at humour that finish up as no more than twee verbiage. Using 735 words to say "I'm not stupid" seems a little excessive.Fallible wrote:Why ask a question if you're not going to bother to read the answer?
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