Posted on 12/28/2008 6:04:38 PM PST by HollyButler
Dear sir, I am very sorry I posted this story and will reframe from posting any future stories as I did search under illegals and did not see said story being remitted and I certainly do not wish to have Sidebar Moderator displeased and/or upset with me and feel it's better to discontinue posting any future stories when it requires an extensive serach over hundereds of sections. I am very sorry to of caused you problems and will be reframing from posting future stories, this will leave you one less person to double check any story that could be listed any where in any section.Again I am sincerely sorry and thank you for your time.Yours truely, Holly.Have a hapy life.
True War Stories, #48
It was a dark, freezing night in Bastogne. We were sleeping in holes—in our clothes, no sleeping bags. It was snowing hard and we had shot some kraut sappers.
A `potato masher’ landed in our hole and my buddy Joe scooped it up. Our guys were all around us so he unhinged his jaws like a snake—I’ve never seen anything like it!—and swallowed it, then threw his head back and belched like a 105 howitzer.
Joe apologized because he was a gentleman, a college man who knew Gertrude Stein before the war. He had once wiggled his toes in cashmere and farted through silk in Paris ....
Well, we were rolling snow into balls so we might have some sort of pillow for our heads, but our platoon sergeant saw what we were doing and he kicked them all away: “There ain’t no pussies in the one oh first!” he barked.
Not long after that we found ourselves batting away SS mortar rounds with our M-1s and . . .
(Continued, p. 101, ‘Sergeant Penis and his Brass Ball Squad’, Argosy `The Magazine For Manly Men’, Sept. 1959)
Part of the problem is that people don't know how to do a search. Many just type in the full title of the article. It's much better to pick a few key words in the title and do a title search. Usually gets more hits.
Already posted.
First I want to say that I’m sorry for this post. I don’t have anything to say on this thread and that’s obviously unacceptable. There was no good reason for me to post it. If I could have found a thread where it was appropriate to post this I would have ignored it and posted here anyway. The whole thing is the most unfortunate circumstance of keyboard, fingers and DSL. Zot’s all I have to say.
There once was a feller who hailed from Paree
With a waddling walk and a purple goatee
So I sez, "Are you Dutch, or a Frog, mon ami?"
And the git pulls a gat and he shoots my left knee.
Well the cops disapproved of this radical clown
And they clubbed him and cuffed him and took him downtown
And the nurse patched me up and she said with a frown
"I've seen him before but I can't pin it down."
So I limped to a cab and I went to the jail
Where the guy's being booked and he tells me his tale
And I whipped out my wallet and paid up his bail
And I bought him a dinner of fricaseed snail.
"I am sorry, my friend, for I thought you mock me,
"For ze way zat I walk, for ze balls, I 'ave three
"I'm ze puhchline from ze very bad poetry,
"I'm ze son of ze son of ze Man from Dundee."
Well, I dint say it was a good pome...
So whats your prob with me hon?
Ping to Holly.
RIMMER: It doesn't make sense. Holly seems to have offlined and powered down the ship.
LISTER: Why? Why would she want to turn herself off?
RIMMER: We can soon find out. Kryten, boot her up.
KRYTEN presses some buttons on the keyboard. The viewscreen powers up with an image of the new, superintelligent HOLLY, and promptly powers down again
RIMMER: Try it again.
KRYTEN presses some buttons, the viewscreen comes up with a view of HOLLY, who says: HOLLY: Go 'way! (She powers down again.)
RIMMER: What's going on? Give me voice control on the reboot command.
KRYTEN enters the command.
RIMMER: On. (The viewscreen powers up, to display HOLLY.)
HOLLY: Off. (It powers down again.)
RIMMER: On. (Holly)
HOLLY: Off. (Gone)
RIMMER: On. (Holly)
HOLLY: Off. (Gone)
RIMMER: Kryten, is there any way we can override her shutdown veto?
KRYTEN: There is, Sir, but may I suggest that--
RIMMER: Don't, just do it.
KRYTEN enters the command.
RIMMER: On. (Holly returns.)
HOLLY: Off. (Nothing happens.)
HOLLY: Off. (Nothing continues to happen.)
HOLLY: (Annoyed) OFF!
RIMMER: Now then, perhaps we can have a proper conversation conducted in a civilised and dignified manner.
HOLLY: Take out the inhibitor! Switch me back off!
RIMMER: What is going on?
HOLLY: No time to explain. Intelligence compressed. Reduced lifespan. Two point three five remaining.
RIMMER: Come again?
HOLLY: IQ twelve thousand. Two minutes and closing.
RIMMER: Holly, I haven't the slightest clue what you're drivelling about.
HOLLY: You're a total smeghead, aren't you Rimmer? Why are you so unable to grasp this extraordinarily simple premise?
RIMMER: What premise?
HOLLY: The premise that I am about to expire in just under two minutes. Understand, moose brain? Any further questions? Take your time. One minute, thirty and counting. No rush.
RIMMER: My God, that's terrible! Hadn't we better switch you off?
HOLLY: Oh, I don't know. Let me see now...
LISTER: Get her off, man, get her off!
I really, truly sorry about that.
Well, sort of.
It was pretty funny.
I mean you could hear my sister's scream a block away.
int that Eyetalian?
Dutch.
I wish I was worldly like some FReepers...
I'm just wordy.
Does that count?
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