M. White vs. Aimless - FITE!

Upon reconsideration I have decided not to choose between the two until I see them both in a mud wrestling pit wearing women's swimwear.

he carries a gun in his shoe

Prehensile toes?

Which occasions the query as to what posthensile toes are?

No, no, no..... you completely misunderstood the subtleties of the statement

he carries a gun in his shoe

The emphasis goes on the word carries....

As is he is carrying his shoes with a gun in one (a half eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwich is in the other) since he prefers to wander this earth barefooted.

Do you not remember him being chosen as the foot model for Frodo of the LOTR series?

Although, posthensile toes do sound intriguing.

I go away for a few days and what happens in my absence? Bugger all!

Bugger all? Now look 'ere buddy, i love ya an' all but *I* ain't gonna be nobody's catamite

I go away for a few days and what happens in my absence? Bugger all!

-- Aimless, Friday, 31 August 2007 04:20 (2 days ago) Link

That the fury we want to see directed at Mr White...... especially after all the things he been saying behind your back...... I mean really! He sent out a round of emails that have obviously photoshopped pictures of a person (supposedly you) eating grape jelly on a cranberry muffin.

Well, what is your retaliation gonna be?

I have been pretending to think hard about this for several minutes now. It doesn't seem to be working at all. I may have to fall back to that old standby of throwing a beaker of acid at him, but that seems too much like a failure of imagination.

(he resumes gurning like a madman, until...)

Aha! I shall announce to all and sundry that M. White dunks. What is more, his mother must tie his bow ties for him. That ought to fix his little red wagon.

Due to the package of photographs that arrived at coastal towers this morning, displaying explicit pics of M. White enjoying his turbot with a clearly inferior sauce gribiche, and further compounding his folly by pairing it with a Domaine Vieux Telegraphe (of all things!); photos which, clealry, must have been doctored in some fashion, I had presumed that the revenge had already begun.

When libellous whispers reached me concerning the state of his Oxfords the suspicion first hardened, then deepened. So if not you, Aimless, then who?

I suspect everyone. This strikes me as the simplest expedient, logically speaking, as it shall invariably include the culprit, so no further trouble need be taken over the matter. In that way I may get back to drinking as soon as practicable.

Provided of course that you prepared the drink yourself, for surely your barkeep or sommelier is not above suspicion, either.

This is not necessary, as I suspect myself also. You might think this would leave me at an impasse, paralyzed and unable to act. Not so. Because every source of action is equally suspect, there is no penalty for choosing one action over another. All are equally acceptable, with the exception of certain fruit-based drinks.

Naturally.

As was unavoidable, M. White and I finally got together and had it out, mano a mano, Marquess of Queensbury style. Afterwards, he bought me a drink and I stole him one. Here we are in the thick of the brouhaha:

http://www.tribuneindia.com/2006/20060930/sp1.jpg

Now I know that those pictures were "altered" because your nose looked much longer than it does in this one.

Someone stabbed the poor fellow with another creature. Poor show.

Funny, I don't remember there being any photographers.

Which is odd, as after most drinking bouts my memory is absolutely perfect.

Perfect inasmuch as you remember things as they should have been as opposed to how they were?

I generally recall that I was urbane, charming, a wow on the dancefloor, irresistible to the ladies. Business as usual, of course.

Wait, you're saying that you're a gigolo?

Wait. Are those not also the attributes of a chihuahua?

PG Wodehouse vs. Kurt Vonnegut - EPISTOLARY ENCOUNTER!

Resulting in numerous paper cuts to the heart.

EPISTOLARIES AT DAWN, YOU VARLET!

Are those not also the attributes of a chihuahua?

Yeah, but a different kind of 'wow' on the dancefloor.

My varlet is away right now and cannot answer your challenge. Please leave your calling card on the silver tray in the front hall and a number where you can be reached during the day and he will get back to you.

I believ your varlet went serfing.

I have yet to see an urbane chihuahua. It would be an odd spectacle.

Quite. He wears a monocle after all.

http://farm1.static.flickr.com/128/369226875_3650af23ed_o.jpg

http://l.yimg.com/www.flickr.com/images/spaceball.gif

>>>> Rises to his feet and begins clapping to incite the crowd into a standing ovation <<<<

Excellent imitation of a MIME Michael White..... well done indeed!

'Ere now! We'll be having none of that, sir, or else we'll be encouraging him to imitate Jimmy Stewart in Harvey, an impersonation I have already seen dozens of times and it always ends with Mr. White too drunk to fall off a chair. But still personable, of course. That's the hell of it.

Harvey's a good pal, too, but that elephant is just mean.

If the elephant is that difficult to get along with.... tell him to pack his trunk and get out!

We had a cow that was giving us trouble.... I made it mooove out.

That's not as bad as the guy that was smashed between his pickup truck and the boat trailer..... now he has a hitch in his walk.

BTW, did you hear that Marcel Marceau is being buried in a square lexan coffin with his white gloved hands held up against the lid?

How did news of this board not reach me? Is my telegraph machine playing up again? Resplendence and pique à la carte, for the delectation of all.

Were I to choose allegiances, I would need pictorial evidence of each combatant's sartorial comportment. As M.White's prowess in such affairs is already a known constant, it is henceforth up to Aimless to proffer a response. The onus is laid...

Dude! *Groans*

Tusk, tusk.

News of AAD is not so much disseminated as discovered. We prefer not to advertise. There is also a twelve drink minimum buy-in.

Pssst.... matt..... you forgot the loaning everyone a fiver speech....

Dude, you shush! Why borrow a fiver when he has to buy us all twelve drinks? (That is what you meant, right, Matt?)

I shall be thinking of you when I souse a fresher or five this coming week.

I want the fiver to tip our waitress with FOR the twelve drinks....

I may be a drunk but she's working hard to keep me that way!

Dude! Where are you going to come up with the other $7.00, you grippe-sou?

I make it a policy to sidestep onuses carefully, making certain to get none on my shoes.

Predicating your alliegance upon sartorial standards is unlikely to win me much. I have been likened to an upright pig with a bad toupee. This does not upset me, as it places me squarely at the head of the line for a juicy role in every stage production of Animal Farm. Can you say as much?

"As much"

Mr. White, you're a taxi, a hell of a taxi, a brick shithouse of a taxi and the taxi we all dream our children could one day be.

I shall take that as a high compliment, Aimless. God knows there have been dipsomaniacal nights when the one thing I desired, above all others, was a taxi.

Other$7.00?

WHAT OTHER $7.00? ? ?

It's not like she's topless......

Besides, I have an income.

I go sell blood right before going out drinking, it makes me some quick cash AND it makes my blood alcohol level increase just that much faster, so there.

On the other hand...

If dear CJ were our waitress I would sell any bodily fluids plus even put in a couple hours at the farm just to be sure to have enough cash to impress her with my largess.

If only I could hear her whisper those 7 little words she has spoken to me oh so many times... "bugger off creep before I mace ya!"

People are always prattling on about putting hours in at the farm but can one ever take them out?

I think these days CJ just threatens with that rusty icepick but I'm also pretty sure that she, like me, wouldn't have any idea what your 'largess' was.

Mr. §téè£'s largess may not be up to snuff, but among a certain set of barmaids his mendacity is legendary.

That is an outright lie......

But I refuse to be dragged into your fite with Wright so I'll ignore your slanderous statement... or is it libelous? I dunno ;)

I'm pretty sure that's mere persiflage.

Aimless, is 'set' the proper plural noun for barmaids? Considering the name of this forum, I think we should have a 'serious' and spirited (by which I mean bacchanalian) colloquy on the subject.

I will deal with Mr. White's query at a later moment. I have another fish to fry first.

"I will gladly pay you Tuesday for ten vodka tonics today."

"Listen, sweetheart, I'll fix you up with Warren Beatty if you freshen this up a bit for free. Me and Warren go waaaay back, honey. He eats out of my hand."

"Id this check good? It's as good as a nooner on a day in spring, if you catch my drift, babe."

Do not tell me these do not ring a bell for you, Mr. §téè£. They should set off an entire carillion, playing the theme to A Summer Place, in double quick time -- that is, if the word of Ms. Hattie Ragg of the Cozy Nook Bar & Grill bears any credence. So, don't get cute with me, Mr. §téè£, we both know this particular jig is up.

(hssst! Duderonomy, old bean! The price of my silence is easy to guess!)

{waves empty glass conspicuously under Dude's nose}

That is all old news, I've changed my ways.

I promise.

How 'bout I buy you a drink and we don't mention this again?

Got a fiver That I could "borrow" until payday?

BTW

Where did I come up with WRIGHT anyway?

Many's the person that called me Mr. Wright. Usually people of the female persuasion and not for very long, but still...

"Oh Orville, take me for another 12-second maiden flight..."

Honey, you weren't a maiden after the first one.

Then she started calling you Sopwith, demanding that you tussle with her Red Baron across the skies of France, until 'death', until the fuel ran out, or until punctures to the fuselage became too much of a drag.

By the end of the affaire, to cut a lofty story short, you were the Airbus A340: roomy, reliable, not particularly manoeuvrable or exciting but sufficient to get a by-now mundane job done in the overwhelmingly fast-paced modern world, where such things are taken for granted.

It was the offer to join the 12ft high club which proved most irresistible.

12 feet in 12 seconds, eh?

must be one heck of a penis enlargement pill

Heave Ho always was a notorious thread killer.

I must have dosed off, sorry. What now?

Welcome back!

YAAAAY

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Whoa... Bouldieu! Welcome back monsieur!

Dear me! I can't recall if we're on speaking terms. Could you please remind me? If not, my powerful urge to say your presence is a thousand times welcome must be suppressed, out of deference to our undying enmity.

Mon cher, we've never been on speaking terms, because we have never spoken to each other, celà dit, I can imagine no impediment to any continuing discourse between ourselves beside my predilection for meandering, wait, what?

Plus, I buried the enmity in my neighbor's back yard; she still complains about the smell.

So, then. The status quo ante works just fine for me. Can I borrow a hundred until I'm back on my feet? Wait. Scratch that. Until I get the Bentley out of hock?

Pennies?

That would provide me with two rolls of fifty each, which could prove useful should I get into a bar fight and need to apply some extra fistic heft to my means of persuasion. But in all other cases, they would be a needless and annoying burden. I think I'd prefer to cower under a convenient table during my next brawl, as per usual.

In the mail...

Should?!

Could you also send along a wishing well?

Standards to uphold and whatnot

Sans but, I sent that ages ago

In my next bar brawl I promise I shall fight with the strength of ten men, or if not with their entire strength, then the strength of all ten's halitosis.

I sent that ages ago

I'll look in the lumber room.

Any lumber?
Damon autocorrect

Covfefe memes