Posted on 01/03/2013 6:36:29 PM PST by BenLurkin
Prime Minister Dmitry Medvedev’s off-air comments that Russian Presidents are given a secret file about extraterrestrials living among us created much media interest. Most news reports claimed that Medvedev was simply joking. His apparent reference to the Men In Black movie as a source of information on a super secret agency that monitors extraterrestrials on Earth was commonly cited as key evidence that he was in fact joking. The reasoning is that no political leader would refer reporters to a comedy to clarify national policy. It has now emerged that Medvedev was not referring to the Men in Black comedy after all, but to a recent Russian television documentary titled “Men in Black” that reveals many details about an extensive cover up of extraterrestrial life visiting Earth.
However, a more accurate translation of what Medvedev actually said about the Men in Black phenomenon was: “You can receive more detailed information having watched the documentary film of the same name.” So Medvedev was referring to a Russian “documentary film” titled Men in Black, not the Hollywood blockbuster by the same name...
Russian Men In Black (MIB) documentary, a number of prominent UFO cases in Russia and the USA are discussed. The Roswell UFO crash is covered, along with a number of extraterrestrial abduction cases, and UFOs disabling nuclear weapons facilities. The documentary examines testimony that extraterrestrial bases have been established on Earth, and that some are in restricted US military areas with the full knowledge of the Pentagon. The documentary even goes on to seriously discuss President Eisenhower’s alleged meeting with extraterrestrials, where agreements were reached with some of the visitors giving them permission to take some of the Earth’s resources in exchange for advanced technology...
(Excerpt) Read more at exopolitics.org ...
Piper had to come in because teh byos went out to blow bubbles. They make her Nervous.
It’s annoying that there’s no mail today. If I’m ever an incredibly important national figure, they’d better deliver the mail on my holiday!
I resent not getting mail when I want it! LOL!
Maybe I should go out onto my patio and blow bubbles...
Don't know about the rumors, I have never seen the crazed Bambi's, but for what it's worth, I won't drink his coffee.
But we're even... he won't drink mine either. I just have not fed mine to the local venison population...
Thus I have no tail, to tell... ;-)
There are some things better left untouched...
When darks ‘splained to me how he made his coffee, I vowed I would never partake. My innards shall be forever virgin.
;o]
Oh freddled gruntbuggly,
Thy micturitions are to me,
As plurdled gabbleblotchits,
On a lurgid bee,
That mordiously hath bitled out,
Its earted jurtles,
Into a rancid festering confectious inner-sphincter.
Now the jurpling slayjid agrocrustles,
Are slurping hagrilly up the axlegrurts,
And living glupules frart and slipulate,
Like jowling meated liverslime,
Groop, I implore thee, my foonting turling dromes,
And hooptiously drangle me,
With crinkly bindlewurdles,
Or else I shall rend thee in the gobberwarts with my blurglecruncheon,
See if I don't.
Vogon poetry is of course, the third worst in the universe. The second worst is that of the Azgoths of Kria. During a recitation by their poet master Grunthos the Flatulent of his poem "Ode To A Small Lump Of Green Putty I Found In My Armpit One Midsummer Morning " four of his audience died of internal hemorrhaging and the president of the Mid-Galactic Arts Nobbling Council survived only by gnawing one of his own legs off. Grunthos was reported to have been "disappointed" by the poem's reception, and was about to embark on a reading of his 12-book epic entitled "My Favourite Bathtime Gurgles" when his own major intestine--in a desperate attempt to save life itself--leapt straight up through his neck and throttled his brain. The very worst poetry of all perished along with its creator, Paula Nancy Millstone Jennings of Sussex, in the destruction of the planet Earth. Vogon poetry is mild by comparison.
Um...I don’t think I have cockles...it may have to do with my gender...
I caught Anoreth’s shoelaces in the vacuum and broke the belt. Booooo. I’ve ordered some replacement belts; hopefully they’ll be here in less than a week, as the site says.
I’ll have to borrow my neighbor’s vacuum tomorrow to sweep up dog fur.
In England, the Magna Carta grants every citizen the right to collect up to eight pounds of cockles from the foreshore. However, pickers wishing to collect more than eight pounds are deemed to be engaging in commercial fishing and are required to obtain a permit from the Inshore Fisheries and Conservation Authority.
Don't know what gender these are, but here's a picture for you...
Wonder if they make good white clam sauce...
LOL
Cockles of the Heart = Innermost feelings and emotions.
G’night folks :)
I’m sure, if I HAD cockles, they would amount to at least eight pounds...
“...Cockles and mussles, alive, alive oh!”
Yah. Mine would be alive, just to spite...
;o]
Armpit.
It was in his armpit...
"Ode To A Small Lump Of Green Putty I Found In My Armpit One Midsummer Morning" is a poem by Grunthos the Flatulent.
Putty. Putty. Putty.
Green Putty - Grutty Peen.
Grarmpitutty - Morning!
Pridsummer - Grorning Utty!
Discovery..... Oh.
Putty?..... Armpit?
Armpit..... Putty.
Not even a particularly
Nice shade of green.
lick*
Grunthos the Flatulent was the poetmaster of the Azgoths of Kria, writers of the second worst poetry in the universe.
Got it. Thanks for all the fish....
Until then, here is the virtual version...
They're probably on the menu at the Restaurant at the End of the Universe...
Not sure if you will find dolphins there though..
I threw myself at the ground...and missed!
Then you have learned How To Fly...
Well in that case, TC, Happy Birthday to James!
We had a blue and white winter theme at my daughter's baby shower yesterday.
29 days, or whatever God decides, to go.
!
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