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Lucius
Posted on Tuesday, April 29, 2003 - 09:29 am:   

So, Deborah, how come ain't nobody over here humping your leg? Don't these folks know you got a checkbook?

Lucius

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Deborah
Posted on Tuesday, April 29, 2003 - 12:22 pm:   

Hey, Lucius, what makes you think they ain't?



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Lucius
Posted on Tuesday, April 29, 2003 - 12:53 pm:   

So like they're doin' it out of sight...under the table? That it?

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Deborah
Posted on Tuesday, April 29, 2003 - 12:56 pm:   

You gotta go where the leg is, man.

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Lucius
Posted on Tuesday, April 29, 2003 - 01:20 pm:   

I guess that's true. Well, hey...Glad to see you're getting your share of NS love.
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Lord Argon-Raven-Silver-Wing-Thorn
Posted on Wednesday, April 30, 2003 - 12:34 am:   

Under the table? Is that where the action is? Hell Lucius, Rowena and I've been dragging our literature-addled carcasses through every alkie bar in Wilsonville, trying to catch a glimpse of Miz Lane's well-muscled, well-lettered gams. Point us to the right table, and my lady and me will get to golden-retrievering directly.
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Lucius
Posted on Wednesday, April 30, 2003 - 06:46 am:   

Hey there, Lord...how's it hangin'? I don't know what to tell ya, man. Being how Niz Lane's got a kid and there's school nights to take into account, y'might want to focus on weekends and mornings at the coffee joints. But hey, hittin' the bars, no matter if you're short on LHing opportunities, never's a bad thing for an artiste. Who knows? You might get beat up and have a story outa the experience...

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skipppy the terrier
Posted on Wednesday, April 30, 2003 - 07:40 am:   

Hiya, hiya, hiya....

you wanta leghump, keep low to the ground and never let 'em see you're excited.

I'm writing a book on the subject. My agent loves it; he uses my techniques every day.

Sample chapters ("Approaching the Calf" and "Strengthening the Hind Legs") available on the net at skippytheterrier.com.
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lieutenant morrison
Posted on Wednesday, April 30, 2003 - 10:00 am:   

Oi! Shimmy up like a bangaroo an' go down like yer on a fireman's pole. If the Queen smiles, we mention you in the dispatches. God bless Australia!
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Rex Gropius
Posted on Wednesday, April 30, 2003 - 10:25 am:   

Skippy, my friend! I am simply thrilled to see participating in this forum! I was privilleged to see A Hump for Sam Walton, your latest performance piece, when it primiered at the Jantzen Beach Wal-Mart. A thrilling display, to be sure!

Ms. Layne, I am truly honored to share the electronic air with you, and would humbly beg your benediction: I have recently begun an anthology project of my own. It is to be called _A Hobby Horse in the Circular Ruins: One-Sided Copulations In Homage to Borges and Sterne_. Though my own recent artstic production lately tended toward the visual (I am exploring the erotics of the intersection of tweezing and spirograph work-- always with Lautremont in mind, of course!) and therefore cannot submit to your wonderful periodical, I would be struck dumb with wonder if you would, perhaps, contribute a personal narrative regarding the subject-matter of this thread.

In endless servitude,

R.
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Deborah, Feeling the Love
Posted on Wednesday, April 30, 2003 - 10:26 am:   

Okay, let me see here...

Lucius: Whoever can say they really get their share of NS love, you know?

Lord Argon: Only alkie bar in Willieville is Wanker's Corners -- yeah, I know -- and I'm not sure what else might be under those tables, so I stick to the video poker area.

Skippy: I see a starred PW in your future -- that's just the kind of thing critics love, love, love.

Lt. Morrison: Good to hear from a man who's happy down under.

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Rex Gropius
Posted on Wednesday, April 30, 2003 - 10:37 am:   

Skippy, my friend! I am simply thrilled to see participating in this forum! I was privilleged to see A Hump for Sam Walton, your latest performance piece, when it primiered at the Jantzen Beach Wal-Mart. A thrilling display, to be sure!

Ms. Layne, I am truly honored to share the electronic air with you, and would humbly beg your benediction: I have recently begun an anthology project of my own. It is to be called _A Hobby Horse in the Circular Ruins: One-Sided Copulations In Homage to Borges and Sterne_. Though my own recent artstic production has lately tended toward the visual (I am exploring the erotic intersection between tweezing and spirograph work-- always with Lautremont in mind, of course!) and therefore cannot submit to your wonderful periodical, I would be struck dumb with wonder if you would, perhaps, contribute a personal narrative regarding the subject-matter of this thread.

In endless servitude,

R.
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Deborah
Posted on Wednesday, April 30, 2003 - 10:37 am:   

Why, Rex, you've read my mind. I was just thinking of the cavernous gaping hole in the literary canon left by the absence of a truly tastefully edited antho of authentic leg-humping tales. I do hope you had in mind a narrative informed by the theoretical works of Lacan, Foucault and Wittig, with especial consideration of the later Derrida. But, did I even need to ask?

I'll have my dog sniff your dog -- I know we can work together.



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skippy the terrier
Posted on Wednesday, April 30, 2003 - 11:13 am:   

Hiya hiya, Rex...

that was a performance pee, by the way....

Deborah, working on my new chapter, "After the Mount."

Hoo, boy! I'm off the leash...
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Rowena Argon-Raven-Thingee-Wood-Wing
Posted on Wednesday, April 30, 2003 - 12:23 pm:   

Howdy, howdy all! What a ravishing array of crotch-sniffers, saliva-drippers, and -frottogistes- we have on this board. My hubby keeps good company!

When's the reading period for P-4, Deb? I'm polishing you up a novella about the dobie kennells of my youth called "Sticky with Memory." I think I can squeeze 'er down to about 80,000 words. That ain't too much, is it?


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the Chevalier of the Lilac Bush
Posted on Wednesday, April 30, 2003 - 12:35 pm:   

Shouldn't that be "frodogistes," Rowena?
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The Andalusian Poodle
Posted on Wednesday, April 30, 2003 - 12:44 pm:   

"A leg-hump must be convulsive, or not at all."
--Andre Breton, Mad Love
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skippy the terrier
Posted on Wednesday, April 30, 2003 - 01:19 pm:   

Hiya, hiya, Poodle...

You mean, of course, serially convulsive...

see ya round the hydrant.
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The Clam
Posted on Thursday, May 01, 2003 - 07:13 am:   

Rowena DAH-ling, it's so good to have tracked you down at last. Remember me? FuzzyCon in Baltimore? On the stuck elevator? I was the one in the crotchless poodle suit? God, you were drunk! Good, but drunk. Don't worry, I won't tell whats-his-face. But why the restraining order, hon? A little penicillin took it right out, just like I said, and the scarring wasn't too bad, at least according to MY trusty telephoto lens. Why hold a grudge?

Onward.

I was just shopping around that novella I told you about (between acts, as it were,) you know, the one about the judge from Crufts who accidentally gets his brain switched with a schnauzer, and some dweeb a few pages back sent me in here. Said it'd be perfect for Polyphony.

Greetings, Milady editrix! In keeping with the theme, I can easily work in some leg-humping action. How's this - a climactic - heh - scene in which he holds the police at bay by threatening to spooge all over the sainted shins of the Queen, and is finally taken down by a loyal cadre of specially trained suicide weinerdogs? It'll be great - just like the end of King Kong, only with dog semen. Just say the word and I'm yours!
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Manchild
Posted on Thursday, May 01, 2003 - 07:35 am:   

"Just say the word and I'm yours!"

Word to yo mama, Clam. We talkin' dry humpin' here. You want wetwork, you take your weak stuff on over to them poodle boards you always hangin' in.

As for that thang you shoppin' around, you better watch where you put it, or it gonna get shopped right off....

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The Clam
Posted on Thursday, May 01, 2003 - 09:06 am:   

Manchild -
OK, OK, have it your way, an impotent judge from Crufts has his brain switched into a neutered schnauzer. I'm easy. Especially when it comes to editors waving checkbooks, I'm easy.

Hey, this could work...Yeah...the angst, the irony, the existential postmodern vermisillitude this will ooze will resound throughout literary history. For all time, wherever persons of letters gather, talk will turn to the immortal CLAM, founder of the Postmodern School Of Novellas About Very Frustrated Dogs.

Hey...Wet vs. Dry! A schism! Whoopee! The whole dog-hump movement is only hours old and already I sense an impending schism! To the battlements, my minions of darkness! To the air, my little academic flying monkeys!
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Newton Elizabeth Gengrich III
Posted on Thursday, May 01, 2003 - 01:43 pm:   

DRY-hump??? Yeah, what are you, Manchild, some kind of dog tease? How would you like it if you were minding your own business, doing the squishy, parking the 'ole yacht in Hair Harbor as it were, and just when you were about to sing the hallelujah chorus, someone whacked you down with a rolled-up newpaper?!? I'm calling PETA on your sorry ass!
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The Clam
Posted on Thursday, May 01, 2003 - 01:46 pm:   

YEAH! Roll him in peanut butter and throw him to the horny shnauzers!

What the hell were we talking about?
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Newton Elizabeth Gingrich III
Posted on Thursday, May 01, 2003 - 01:50 pm:   

Your drunken elevator tryst with Rowena, as I recall. What was she wearing?
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The Clam
Posted on Thursday, May 01, 2003 - 01:54 pm:   

A daschund mask and a g-string that played "Ride Of The Valkyries" when you pressed Elmer Fudd's nose. Did you know she has a tatoo of the entire supreme court on her ass? Get a couple of tequilas down her and she can make them dance. It's really cool, she's got the liberals on the ends of the line and all the conservatives in the middle, and Clarence Thomas' neck ends right at the sphincter. That musta hurt like hell!
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Mrs. Daksoont-Smythe-Puddington-Egard
Posted on Thursday, May 01, 2003 - 02:16 pm:   


What on Earth does this have to do with the creation of enduring works of interstitial literature? This thread seems to be the exclusive province of scaberous canines and those who fancy them.

Hmmph. Borges would blush.

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Rowena Silver-Wing-Raven-Thorn-Etc.
Posted on Thursday, May 01, 2003 - 02:31 pm:   

Clam, you lying sack of Schipperke doo! Crotchless poodle costume my hairy white ass. When I met you at that panel on SF-nal dog ethnography, you promised me that's what you'd wear, but what you showed up with-- well, it was a crotchless poodle alright, but it wasn't a costume. I mighta' known you'd turn up here, peddling your dogpound Hannibal Lector shit.

P.S.-- I had that tattoo redone after the elections. Political reasons, you know? Now it's Paul Wellstone, Mohammed Saeed Al-Sahaf, Jacques Chirac, and the boys from N-Sync.

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Mrs. Daksoont-Smythe-Puddington-Egard
Posted on Thursday, May 01, 2003 - 02:50 pm:   

And to think I debated granting Ms. Layne the opportunity to publish my opus, "Whither Cephalopod?" It's an unsentimental philosophical exploration of nothingness, centering on the events of my girlhood in Boston's Back Bay, and on the kindly old gentleman who taught me to clean haddock.

Now I will have no choice but to publish it in the New Yorker.

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The Clam
Posted on Thursday, May 01, 2003 - 03:19 pm:   

Can you send me a nude photo of you with a haddock? Please? Please-please-please?!?

Go ahead, granny, skitter away to the New Yorker, but know in your wrinkly little heart that, when it comes out, I'll be somewhere out there, staring glassy-eyed at your caricature, masturbating like a crazed lemur.
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Manchild
Posted on Thursday, May 01, 2003 - 03:46 pm:   

Yo, Gengrich...I ain't nobody's dog, dawg. I'm a dog-owner. Anybody see a little rat-ass terrier answers to Skippy getting friendly with with a parking meter, gimme a shout. You talkin' 'bout my "sorry ass," you musta los' your mind. I bust you so hard in the head, your brain squirt out your butt. As for you. Clam, the hell you talkin' about, rollin' me in peanut butter? You some kinda fruiter, man? You better keep that surrealist crap to yourself, or else I'm gonna give you a lesson in real.
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Veruca Canis, Chapter President People For The Erotic Treatment Of Animals
Posted on Thursday, May 01, 2003 - 04:54 pm:   

I happen to be a PETA member and I am appalled, nay, disgusted at what I'm hearing. Seeing. Whatever. Manchild, our furry friends have just as much right to sexual fulfillment as you do. If we insist on treating them like second-class citizens, denying them even the right of representation in many legislative bodies, then the least we can do for the cause of interspecial harmony is to pull their little puds ourselves. I, personally, perform oral sex on my animal companion several times a day. This is my way of atoning for the atrocities my kind have perpetuated on his. And if you consider yourself a decent human being, you'll get down on your hands and knees in front of that poor captive Terrier-American and lick his little tic-tac size balls until he forgives you!
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M. Frais Chat, Esq.
Posted on Thursday, May 01, 2003 - 06:03 pm:   

Madame,

I heartily recommend the haddock to you. And also any of the cephalopods that might chance to come your way. Rodents, too, make tasty fare, provided one is vigorous and still in possession of all one's teeth (as is also sadly necessary with fowl that, unlike le coq, habitually fly).

Ah, coq au vin. Is there any dish more divine, more-- Mais excusez-moi. I see that I have fogotten myself.

To continue. I must warn you, Madame, most emphatically, to avoid all manner of canine, whatever their lineage or breed. These beasts are, without exception, the basest canaille (notwithstanding the vulgar, absurd titles they shamelessly lavish on themselves). No individual of taste or discernment could possibly find their clumsy, groveling, simpering, and oft-times brutal deportment worthy of interest. (Oui, oui, I grant you the beasts often possess a certain crude vitality, but the same could be said of the cockroach.)

You have heard, perhaps, the old saw, Cave canis? Do not let down your guard for an instant, Madame! Remember, always, those immortal words (which I freely admit have served me well through my first eight, delightful lives).

I remain, Madame, your most obedient servant,

Frais Chat, Esq. (author of _Distinction: The Memoirs, Amorous and Culinary, of Frais Chat, Esq., a Feline of Distinction_)
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Manchild
Posted on Thursday, May 01, 2003 - 06:07 pm:   

Uh-huh...yeah, Veruca. Listen up. I got a job for you, woman, and it ain't vice-president. You better take your bunny-huggin', Vegan-eatin', back to Honkiana 'fore some bad dog come along and give you some peta you can't handle. Far as Skippy goes, next time I run up against him, I'll be doing something to his balls, but licking ain't it.
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skippy the terrier
Posted on Thursday, May 01, 2003 - 06:52 pm:   

Hiya, Hiya, Hiya...

Help! Save me!
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Miz Debra
Posted on Thursday, May 01, 2003 - 07:01 pm:   

Manchild, Veruca, and everybody else,

Can't we all just get along?

But if we cain't, could y'all use some littler words? I'm not so far out the woods, you know, and I'm pretty sure some of what y'all are saying would be kinda stimulatin' if I could understand it.

Oh, and Mrs. Daksoont-whatever-whatever, ain't but one place we keep copies of the New Yorker where I come from and it's got a half moon carved over the door.

Now you chillun take your puppies and run on outside, y'hear? I got important editin' work to do here...where'd I put that big fat blue pencil...un huh...oh, yeah, here it is.

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Hello Kitty
Posted on Thursday, May 01, 2003 - 07:02 pm:   

Cats Rule and Dogs Drool!!!

Tee hee hee!!

Me-ow!
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Veruca Canis
Posted on Thursday, May 01, 2003 - 07:48 pm:   

<private>

I just realized, it's not your fault you're cranky and abusive, your people have suffered atrocities almost as awful as those perpetrated on our animal citizens. Liberal guilt gives me the screaming thigh sweats. What do you say I make it all up to you?
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Veruca Canis
Posted on Thursday, May 01, 2003 - 07:56 pm:   

PRIVATE TO MANCHILD:I just realized, it's not your fault you're cranky and abusive, your people have suffered atrocities almost as awful as those perpetrated on our animal citizens. Liberal guilt gives me the screaming thigh sweats. What do you say I make it all up to you?
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Manchild
Posted on Thursday, May 01, 2003 - 08:50 pm:   

Say what?
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Commandante Muerto
Posted on Thursday, May 01, 2003 - 09:08 pm:   

Senorita Canis, my strong black brother, Manchild, though good-hearted, is not used to dealing with your kind, whereas I, long accustomed to the colonialist imperatives of your race, know exactly how to respond to your condescension, your insiduous attempts to weaken the resolve of all people of color. For many years my companeros and I have labored in your fields and pissed on your lechuga, your tomatoes, all your produce, causing over the decades vast chromosonal damage to white America, damage that will soon eanble us to swarm that proud brown locusts across your borders and feast upon pasty, corpulent bodies. You cannot offer Manchild anything that he will not soon take for himself. My advice to you, Senorita, is to pray to Mammon for surcease, for though you cannot escape your fate, which--I should add-- will be similar to that of your bourgeoise pets, perhaps you may elude some pain.

Viva la Raza!
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Veruca Canis
Posted on Thursday, May 01, 2003 - 09:25 pm:   

Don't listen to him, Manchild! You can trust me, I understand your pain, I saw Roots. Reclaim your lost manhood upon my pasty white flesh!

Rhetoric is fine, but can it suck a golf ball through a garden hose?

Think it over...
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Miz Debra
Posted on Thursday, May 01, 2003 - 10:35 pm:   

Veruca, honey, I've got a cousin over toward Jasper that can suck the chrome off a trailer hitch and all it's got her so far is a couple of no account exes and a broke down Ford F-150 that won't go into reverse.

My point being that while the talents of the flesh may be easy to learn and may even pay the rent when the editors aren't calling regular, it's only Art that endures. Girl, I think you should let those boys go and let's see if we can't get back to talkin' about making interstitial metafiction or something like that.


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Commandante Muerto
Posted on Friday, May 02, 2003 - 03:42 am:   

Srta. Layne, your decadent literature will not save you from Muerto.

CM

PS -- please send your cousin's phone number in Jasper. I occasionally get down that way.
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The Clam
Posted on Friday, May 02, 2003 - 06:02 am:   

Yeah, can we talk about my story now? Ms. Layne, it's up to you - should the ending be wet or dry? Which in your opinion is more effective, the literary tension in the mere threat of impending canine ejaculation - leaving the actual emissions up to the reader's imagination - or the stark, gritty reality of the Queen of England with dog spooge running down her leg? Do we let the reader imagine it for himself, or do we rub his nose in it, as it were? I humbly bow to your wisdom, your literary judgement, your checkbook.
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The Masked Avenger
Posted on Friday, May 02, 2003 - 06:06 am:   

Anybody want to buy some chromeless trailer hitches?
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Beulah May Wheezer
Posted on Friday, May 02, 2003 - 06:14 am:   

American Heritage Dictionary: INTERSTITIAL: 1. Relating to, occurring in, or affecting interstices.

I friggin' HATE it when they do that.

Hey, ya'all! Miz editor, I got kin down t'wards Jasper, I may know your cousin, what color is her trailer?

I been workin' on a story you might like for your mag, but now I'm skeert to send it in. Should I drop in more big words or what?
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skippy the terrier
Posted on Friday, May 02, 2003 - 07:43 am:   

Hiya, hiya, hiya...

The oppressor is dead! Manchild was assaulted by police while awaiting an assignation with Veruca Canis on a Portland streetcormer, and in the ensuing gun battle, was rendered life-impaired. Doubtless Veruca set him up, luring him to his death with promises of oral gratification. She is a treacherous white devil, but I bless her name.

I'm off the leash! Hoo, boy! No leg is safe!
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skippy the terrier
Posted on Friday, May 02, 2003 - 07:45 am:   

Hiya, hiya, hiya...

The oppressor is dead! Manchild was assaulted by police while awaiting an assignation with Veruca Canis on a Portland streetcormer, and in the ensuing gun battle, was rendered life-impaired. Doubtless Veruca set him up, luring him to his death with promises of oral gratification. She is a treacherous white devil, but I bless her name.

I'm off the leash! Hoo, boy! No leg is safe!
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Commandante Muerto
Posted on Friday, May 02, 2003 - 07:50 am:   

Tears fall from my eyes like hot stones full of magical fever to explode in the ant cities at my feet. Fear not, my brother Manchild. We will avenge you. Veruca Canis is, as you might say, meat on the street.
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Fonda Love
Posted on Friday, May 02, 2003 - 07:52 am:   

I'm just an exotic dancer from Pensacola, and not a professional writer or anything, but what Mr. Clam was asking about...well, I been reading all of what y'all are saying and I been thinkin' that stories are a lot like table dances. My dance mentor, Ms. Chantilly Delacroix, always used to tell us girls, "Always leave 'em wantin' more, girls. But if you can't, try to get out of the way at the moment of truth."

Maybe that'll help you figure out what to do in your story.
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Miz Debra
Posted on Friday, May 02, 2003 - 08:10 am:   

"Srta. Layne, your decadent literature will not save you from Muerto.

CM

PS -- please send your cousin's phone number in Jasper. I occasionally get down that way. "


So, CM, how come one minute you sound like the Frito Bandito on steroids and the next minute you sound like one of my no account exes. Now, Duwayne, if that's you, you better keep your scrawny ass hid somewhere. I ain't never goin' to forgive you for tradin' my collection of back issues of Analog for a case of Bud and a lawn mower engine with the pull broke off. You get on out from here. We're tryin' to talk about Art.

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Mike Price
Posted on Friday, May 02, 2003 - 08:13 am:   

Now I myself have been with Fonda Love in my position as University of Alabama football coach--she's a helluva little recruiter, but has been known to prevaricate. For example, I also personally know Ms Chantilly Delacroix, and she was never one for getting out of the way. Nosiree. Ms. Delacroix stood firm in the face of fire and would no doubt advise all you young table dancers to do the same.

By the way, Fonda, you found my wristwatch yet?
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Miz Debra
Posted on Friday, May 02, 2003 - 08:33 am:   

Coach Price, it is indeed an honor to have you visit my humble little salon de Lettres. I want you to know, and I believe I speak for a majority of the Tide Faithful here, that I am behind you one hundred percent (and from what Fonda says, that's really the safer place to be).

Now, I know from experience how the bright lights of Pensacola can blind a man til he falls clear off the path of Goodness, especially when golf is involved. My third ex fell prey to the sin-dealers of that city once during a golf event. I mean, hell, it's like I told him, any time you got out of shape guys in ugly pants walking in the hot sun all day trying to put a ball in a hole you know that come nightfall there's gonna be trouble.

I know those years in Pully-up or wherever the hell it was musta left you with a hunger that only a Pensacola girl could sate.
So, we forgive you, Coach. Now how's Brodie's arm?
Roll Tide!
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Commandante Muerto
Posted on Friday, May 02, 2003 - 09:59 am:   

Sra. Layne...

"Frito Bandto" is exactly the form of expression I would expect from an imperialist editor like yourself. A man's needs have little to do with the purity of his politics. Polyphony has been added to my target list, right after PETA.
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Mike Price
Posted on Friday, May 02, 2003 - 10:03 am:   

Miz Debra,

I appreciate your support, as I do that of all true Tide fans. I swear she told me she was 18.

Brodie 's arm is fine, but I believe he may still be in Pensacola.
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livinginthepurelight
Posted on Friday, May 02, 2003 - 12:07 pm:   

When you are tempted by an attractive young man or woman,** pray. "Thank you, God, for making such an attractive person. Help me to see him/her*** as a person, not as a sex object."

** or canine
*** or it (if neutered/spayed)
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HellyesIlovedixiechicken!
Posted on Friday, May 02, 2003 - 12:24 pm:   

Thank you god for giving me politically correct buttheads like livingthepurelight to feel superior to...

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M. Bishop
Posted on Friday, May 02, 2003 - 12:44 pm:   

You know, this thread is pretty twisted. I'll be back later with a fresh needle.
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The Clam
Posted on Friday, May 02, 2003 - 06:22 pm:   

Good, you can help Rowena add Condaleeza Rice to the tatoo on her ass.
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Veruca Canis
Posted on Friday, May 02, 2003 - 06:30 pm:   

Hey, Muerto, it's too bad about Manchild. I've never seen anything like it. It was awful - one minute there I was, backed up over a dumpster trying to get my bra unhooked, and he reached in his pocket for a condom, and the next thing I knew someone yelled "He's got a gun!" and about five hundred cops nailed him. I ran like hell. Got kinda lost, actually. Wound up in this weird part of town I'd never seen before. I don't know where I am, exactly, but all the streetsigns have bullet holes in them, and people keep trying to sell me things, and everything smells like pee.

I'm going to be offline for a while. I found a LOT of poor, oppresed people to make it up to down here.
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Sam Lipschitz
Posted on Saturday, May 03, 2003 - 10:02 am:   

"Hump your leg." You mean like a dog?
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art the elkhound
Posted on Saturday, May 03, 2003 - 11:03 am:   

Hey, Sam...come on, man! Let's hold off on those deeply penetrating speculations, okay? We're just a buncha intellectual pups...
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Mr. Z. White
Posted on Sunday, May 04, 2003 - 11:56 am:   

IMPORTANT: If you encounter Veruca Canus you should be very careful because she's like an expensive birthday cake: angel on the outside, but pure devil within.

I met her at the boat show and she seemed nice until the next morning, when I woke up to find a charge for something called "oral reparations" on my hotel bill. I'm not sure why I'd need reparations, since nothing bad has ever happened to me in my life before this, but still, she made me pay $59.95 for them.

It's enough to make a person buy an Eminem album. Believe me, I'm quite outraged.
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Mrs. Dachshund-Smythe-Puddington-Igard
Posted on Monday, May 05, 2003 - 02:50 pm:   

And while we're on the subject of oral reparations, I believe I must make a formal protest.

I understand that Ms. Canis feels that some vast and destructive societal mechanism has worked a great harm upon both petkind and the so-called poor, and that only the expert application of her tongue can give these wretched victims the ease they deserve, but really:

What about me? I assure you that in this forum alone, I have suffered greater insult, greater trauma, and greater psychic wounding than -any- terrier, anywhere in the world. Where are MY oral reparations?

Ms. Canis, I suggest, nay, DEMAND that you remove your tongue from the fluffy nether regions of whatever cur or pauper you are currently lapping and place it where it can do the greatest societal good.

Impatiently,

Mrs. D-S-P-I.
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Beulah May Wheezer
Posted on Wednesday, May 07, 2003 - 11:05 pm:   

I swear this is true:

I was awake at an ungodly hour, just flipping the cable around aimlessly, and when I hit the "guide" button I saw something just coming on marked "Interstitial." No information was available, so I eagerly thumbed my way over and sat back waiting for some form of literary enlightenment. What would it be? Writing tips from the ghost of Charlotte Bronte? A 10-hour Ken Burns documentary on Absolutely Everything?

Hell, no. It was - I swear to dog, it was a show about a convention of Dukes of Hazzard fans.

Please, please somebody make the little voices stop.

Please, please somebody quickly and succinctly explain to me how this can be, before I gnaw through my wrists.




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Cooter
Posted on Thursday, May 08, 2003 - 03:42 am:   

What you doin' up at 11:05 Pm, Buelah May? You know the meds start wearing off around then.
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Beulah May Wheezer, c/o The Georgia State Sanitarium And Mink Ranch
Posted on Thursday, May 08, 2003 - 07:43 am:   

Sure do - why the hell you think I was up?!? Goddam night nurse musta been watching that dukes of hazzard thing.
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Rowff Miyioux
Posted on Wednesday, May 14, 2003 - 05:41 am:   

Polyphony? This discussion strikes me as singularly mononotal ("single-noted" for the comprehension impaired), but amusing nonetheless, especially if one is a randy animal companion, which, indeed, I happen to be, namely, a hairless cross between a Manx and a Chihuahua. Guess you could call me a Nair-do-well . . .
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Des
Posted on Friday, August 22, 2003 - 09:46 am:   

I'm not sure if this question has been asked before. But how much does the 'Polyphony' title owe to the 'classical music' sense of that word?
Des
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Deborah
Posted on Friday, August 22, 2003 - 11:10 am:   

Hi, Des. That's pretty much the sense I had in mind -- I was looking for something that conveyed the notion of "things combined in new/novel ways." Many voices, many melodies, and like that.

Hope it works.

Deborah
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Des
Posted on Friday, August 22, 2003 - 11:15 am:   

It's a great title and appeals to my love of classical music and the equivalence of fiction to such a tapestry of sound. Many stories that become one. Des
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Deborah
Posted on Friday, August 22, 2003 - 11:45 am:   

Thanks! That's just what I was hoping.

Deborah

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