write something nonsensical, surreal, silly.

[fleamailman]

("...very nice stream brinny..." went the goblin, who didn't follow alex jones but listened a lot to max keiser, adding "...americans are going to have their faith tested in 2013, I suspect it's going to be war to hide its tracks, and I will need my eyes very open however much the pain...")

Alex Jones Talks To Max Keiser: 2013, Year of The Great Crash - YouTube

 

[brinny]

do yu has ulcers, flea?

 

[fleamailman]

do yu has ulcers, flea?

"...nah, I have headaches brinny..." replied the goblin, adding "...why, because I have to bare witness to what is about to happen now, where those of the faith have to bare witness, where the devil calls for the withdrawal of church from the state, which is quite the opposite of your amendment that calls for the withdrawal a state from the church, congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof, so war comes not because I say so, but because your duty is to bare witness like never before, and in doing so you too will see what I see, so tell me what you see then..."

xxxx

 

[brinny]

apparently much of it is parallel to what you see, flea.

 

[brinny]

For instance, would you say that the US gov't is likened to a "king" that "owns" the forest, for instance, and therefore must "own" us?

 

[randyness]

I refuse to participate in this, wait Im already participating!

 

[randyness]

have you eaten a chocolate pie today?

 

[brinny]

No, but hey if yu gots any to share......

 

[brinny]

...even surreal ones will do

and welcome to the thread

 

[Forge3]

A morning star beckons wise men to depart.
To meet the child to be born in our heart.
For that is the place that true love is born
From a 'dark night' comes the star of morn.

Hello guys hope you are well. You guys are having an interesting conversation going. Off to get Christmas shopping and then a movie soon.

 

[brinny]

Beautifully worded poem of great depth my friend. Which movie are you seeing?

 

[Forge3]

Hitchcock. Got Christmas cards, and new clothing I needed. Will see movie, finish shopping, get haircut and retreat into my home to relax lol.

 

[fleamailman]

("...through the 12000hits barrier, keep them coming, where there's no need to go to a publisher if readers will go to your pen..." remarked the goblin)

repost from elsewhere

the goblin welcomed the new member readyness, and felt it only fair to tell the truth and explain things, in that queen bot, alias brinny here, doesn't in fact do her own housework, that she has a couple of dark nubian topless manservants to attend to her each and every whim as they take it in turns to gently rub in those delicate scented oils before she dips naked into that deep hot roman bath while the blindfolded soprano sings to her of her unrivalled beauty, "...I am sorry o great queen but I just thought that all this pretence to being an ordinary american housewife had to end somewhere, otherwise pinocchio could create a forest from it, but I know that your friends, will still love you even now they know the truth, and love you no less for having graced their simple lives with your refined but licentious exquisite majesty amongst us..." said the goblin, only with the queen's welfare at heart

16 932http://www.christianforums.com/misc.php?do=whoposted&t=7670171 12005

 

[look4hope]

While taking a break of editing, i Enjoyed reading the post above. Is raining. Sounds relaxing. Hot coco.

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere, written prior to his death

"...welcome infidels..." went the voice of the interpreter now, continuing "...we're very sorry that the goblin is indisposed at this point, though instead we are happy to announce that we have found someone, who we feel to be equally knowledgeable, to aid you with those difficult and complex questions that you might have concerning the general state of america's ecopolitical situation at this point, so without further ado, please welcome..., ..."

106

 

[brinny]

...and time marches on.....with its twists and turns...yet marches on it does.....as the clock ticks and the final destination draws near...there is no escaping...it is what it is. 'Tis a terrible thing to be without vision and not see it....as if a shroud of blindness has settled in....and those enshrouded in it do not wish it to be removed....and maybe it's because they put it there....as relentlessly time tick tocks and clackety clacks on...

 

[Forge3]

And Questor ponders some more...

What does it mean giving his whole heart to God? What would it be like to bear the beams of Divine love. Questor has trepidation at times, doubts and walls. Ancient wounds that have not healed. The path is trust and surrender. Walking like a new born deer with legs shaky at times Questor looks to hope. Yes the end of times. Imagining himself at judgment day right now. What could he have done that he did not? Could he have been more generous in his heart? Could He have trusted more even though the light seems to be behind clouds at times? Questor must look to God for the strength and bare His heart and trust in God to understand, be compassionate and wise, to grab him by the hand at times and lead him to still waters to restore His soul.

 

[brinny]

Thou speakest for all of us, it seems, my friend.....for thou hast just described me also and quite succinctly....aaah what a journey it is and His grace covers and weaves through it all, each step of the way as He provides a Lamp unto our feet and a Light unto our path, and yes, gently oh so gently leads us beside still waters where we are safe, and He has "stilled" us, and we are refreshed and healed in body, mind, and spirit. Reading your post is most visual and a blessing it is. Thank you.

 

[fleamailman]

("...getting better..." went the goblin liking the reads, adding "...keep me company then, the more you post the more you'll connect if it is within you...")

25th May 1997

Dear all,
Not again!, a few moments to yourself, a quiet coffee with a view and the next thing you know you're talking with a muse who's giving you some hard luck story(about how books that sleep on shelves show just how insidious this tyranny of television has become), she should talk, weren't muses really sirens that call writers to dash themselves on desks, next she'll complain about those nerds on the natternet with the usual "where to now the written word" but I explain "...if you're one of maybe fifteen members of the writer's club outnumbered by 170.000 predominantly pendumb Genevans the question isn't fame and fortune, it's more like "does one go down writing or simply fall on ones pen"...", and with that she smiled saying "...sounds like great odds, what about you then..." she took a sip from from my coffee and continued "...the pact goes, honesty, a shared life, and a thick skin...", "...and what's in it for me..." I ask reaching for my pen, "...a journey to self..." she replies handing me some paper as I write "Dear all" again.

sin.,flea

 

[fleamailman]

the goblin's blog


dad drives as the sight of the gates of Mortaldumpsted's hospital were passed though, his mother had been there for some time now, her leg perhaps had mended but could it be trusted to take weight, besides, would her balance hold, these things tried the goblin who, after rubbing his hands in alcohol, greeted his mother who recognized him as family, one of the sons perhaps, and there the goblin siting on a chair recited those daily lines that repeated themselves "...the garden is looking wonderful, the snowdrops and out and just waiting for your return....", lies, white lies but to hell with the truth now accepted the goblin who continued "...are you going to sweep the path, you'd like that wouldn't you..." his mother would says words of agreement but they were no longer the right words, just those roundabout near words with a smile that meant she understood and, with that over, the goblin set to feeding her liquid, testing the plastic mug of tea for heat and passing her the spout to drink from, "...more tea then...", the doctor had told the goblin that hospital wards are very dry places and the more she drinks the better, "...bit more then...", "...a chocolate then...", "...there, you've nearly drank it all...", "...all gone now..." phrases like words reminding him of childhood, his, or his children's that is, and with that the visit was nearly over, save to sit by the bed for a while longer, later, having asked the nurse for the news the goblin would return home where, looking out from the sitting room, he gaged the skyline for the weather and the approaching storm, and then happened to look down at the huddled snowdrops "...ah my little white lies..." he whispered to himself, knowing that this strange association had grown permanent

xxxx 939 12079