Posted on 06/28/2010 12:43:57 PM PDT by DagonofAlbion
I deposit the Risk into the account of a dummy finance company for management, called the republican party.
Then, I deposit the damage into the account of a dummy corporation for control, called the democratic party.
I leave all the bible belt religions as spoilers, or third parties; putting them down as department store chains. To stave off the profit into the mints money burning facility, to insure that the money is worthless in terms of pragmatic value, and is only practical believed values.
And the Black market is pimped as bad but, even losing even your kindeys in a hotel bathtub on a drunk, is a value laundering scheme...
Thank you all for your input and participation!!!
Coming up in a few days.
Not sure whether to advise you to hang on to your seat or not...
Truly dumb-ass threads can sometimes be tough to come by on the right date...but I’m watching. This room was a good one!
"What would a bejewelled battlespanner wench be capable of?"
I didn't know when she joined our band of misfits. That's because when I first saw her, it was through half of my left eye.
That is to say, I'd lost the vision in half of my left eye, and she was standing in that part of my field of limited vision.
I was also sporting a bloody bandage, a ringing in my ears, and one helluva headache.
She was wearing metallic-looking boots and shorts, a frilly blouse with a jewel-covered vest, a strange-looking hat and a wicked-looking sword.
"Who's that?", I croaked.
No, I didn't die. I just discovered that my voice worked about as well as the rest of me.
Youngbillie looked at me. Since he was half-supporting me, he had to crane his muscular neck to see my face.
"She's from the Upper Decks. She said she had a mission to perform, and that we should help her. So far, she's been helping us."
"I like her."
"Simmer down. First we survive."
"Yeah, but she's gorgeous!"
"Please don't annoy her, Stubbs."
"Can't you call me Jake?"
"No."
We came to a halt. The girl looked in annoyance at her party, and at the locked bulkhead door. Then she raised her sword and pressed it into the keyhole. After a moment or two, the door opened. We all went through.
"Electronics? Magnetics?", I looked up at Youngbillie.
The girl was looking at me. "Micromanipulators, built into the tip of the sword. It's actually a tool for making minute machine repairs and adjustments. Notice how my hand is covered up by the sword hilt? My fingers are controlling the micromanipulators. I'm picking the locks."
She looked a little more closely at me and my injuries. "Maybe later on I'll take a look inside you to see if you need some repairs yourself. Let's keep moving."
"I'll wait." I said cleverly, in my frog voice.
She led us on into the dim corridor. I wondered what her mission was.
I wondered what her name was.
Yes, and that's the good news!
The bad news is that NnBob chooses your room.
We love sunlight! Grace us with the Cyber Shine!
LOL!
Not to worry, even the smallest of rooms are nicely appointed. They were designed as student dorm rooms, single worker rooms, and starving artist rooms.
They're tiny, literally holes in the wall.
But they're connected to the computer network and the intertainment network, (that was a typo, but I've decided to leave it. Just add it to the lexicon.)
More importantly, they are connected to the package delivery service. You can order pizza, or wine, or books, or clothes, from your tiny room, and the package will be delivered in minutes.
The rooms are just for sleeping, unless you have a companion. Then they're still rather cramped. You're practically in each other's laps.
Goodness. I think my package delivery person is underestimated!
The smaller the world, the speedier the service.
No place in the Flying Castle extended habitat is more than five or ten minutes away from any other. Even farmers in their “fields” can catch a spherical elevator car after a short walk, and arrive within a short walk of an open restaurant, supply location (”store”), or service facility.
Tinkerers and artists can have a field day, putting things together, trashing them, puttering around to their heart’s content, and sometimes coming up with something useful, like that remarkable space helmet we’re adopting.
Ummm... so the lack of a helmet is what is keeping me and Miss Daisy from our density???
(Whodathunkit?)
‘Face, on the Flying Castle habitat, you wouldn’t need a truck.
But if you did need parts, they would arrive within minutes. I can get them that quickly.
It ain’t my fault all you folks are willing to live out there so far away from everything.
Once I knew that we were going to enclose the habitat, I saw that we couldn’t use traditional transportation. It’s as if we were all sealed in a giant building.
Well, if we were in a giant building, we’d use the elevators to move around with, wouldn’t we?
That’s the way they did it on Star Trek. But their “turbo-lifts” were the wrong design. They were guilty of thinking in only two dimensions. That’s what got Khan, remember?
Anyway, with the need to use rotational forces to provide artificial gravity, the elevators had to be able to rotate to the arrival orientation, so we made them round. In fact, spherical, so that they could move through the tube system like a bolus in your esophagus.
It’s all very logical. The next time you see an advanced space habitat, you’ll see our designs being employed.
My truck is only necessary when other means of transportation are beyond the parameters of the time and space continuum.
Senor de Grasse-whatshisname made that clear to me. Tomorrow, I’ll regret this missive. Today, NOT !!!
Keep on being strong ... or if you can’t, keep on being weak, but keep on!
Good Morning!
Stuff to do.
Here, too.
Here too! But not yet!
Good morning! It seems to be the first day of school, for those who attend. That will make it less crowded at Walmart during the day. DP went last night, but he was too overwhelmed by the crowd to pick up anything for tonight’s supper, so I’ll need to go again. Sometimes I just want to spit nails. But then I’d have to go to the dentist again ...
I’m thinking of getting a haircut today. I’m looking a bit like Madeline Kahn in “Young Frankenstein”!
Inside the Dome, no-one can have ice cream.
[I am SO using that for a short Alien parody. Maybe. I’ll likely get sued.]
I’m going to have to read the rest of this at some point.
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