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Subject: MudCat Tavern - From: MMario Date: 20 Jun 14 - 06:37 PM Seems like we only use this place for wakes and memorials these days; and they are coming far too frequently...There's hardly any dust this time around. I think the place is ready; there's a possum ocarina on the music stand; a burnt skeleton of a Christmas tree in the corner; and I made sure that the bar is stocked with all the supplies to make flaming possum fart highballs. This one hurts, guys. It hurts deep. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: MMario Date: 20 Jun 14 - 06:44 PM Almost forgot to turn the pump on for the "little Pissant" fountain...Not sure the squid is gonna like it; but the squid can just stuff it. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Geoff the Duck Date: 20 Jun 14 - 06:56 PM From a long way off, an echo of a squeak is barely discernible. Minutes pass, and a louder squeak becomes almost annoying. Silence! KNOCK! KNOCK! The door creaks open and a duck backs into the Tavern, followed by a laden wheelbarrow. "Where do you want this pissing statue?" Barkeep glances across and nods across at the Jello Pit. "Over there ought to do"! The scent of freshly spit roasted emu drifted out through the open door and caught the attention of other passers by.# |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Geoff the Duck Date: 20 Jun 14 - 06:57 PM Snap! |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Stilly River Sage Date: 20 Jun 14 - 07:12 PM Joe said I can add photos using html, but the 'cat says different. Best I can do this evening is add a link to a photo that is as close as I remember the Little Pissant looking. It needs to be in place for the proper decorum of this occasion.  |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Lonesome EJ Date: 20 Jun 14 - 07:13 PM Only once in a Blue Moon, he thought, as he pulled up a stool to the bar. "I'll have two Jacks, straight up," he told the bartender. Thinking, that's one for me, one for him..."stop. Make that three." He owed him two, anyway. Crossing the bar was a tough job for any sailor, dry work that the whiskey softened. Through the window he could see the sun setting over the Ohio, where the old steamboat Albert Hansell was tied up. Beyond that and leading up and over the distant hills an asphalt road, winding, clinging to the edge of a rocky cliff that overlooked the Pacific. And he thought, there was once a place where you could ride a steamboat through the Reconstruction South, and disembark into a warm Southern California afternoon, stroll up to a canary yellow Corvette gleaming in the sun, it's chrome making your eyes squint. He could see it through this window, and the taste of salt air and the scent of water turned by a wooden paddlewheel was in the whiskey. His gaze lay on the crest of the hill, and he thought he saw a figure there, silhouetted against an orange sun dying into clouds. He raised the last glass to salute this figure, who raised an arm in farewell. At that second, his vision rippled like water where a stone had fallen, and the overflow slid down his cheek. When his vision cleared, there was no one standing on top of the hill, no one at all. He finished the Jack and grinned. That shit was his poison, not mine. Always stay with Four Roses. Except once in a blue moon. And like that, the moon began to rise behind the tavern. And the road on the hill was like an endless silver track. And the river shone like...and then he saw it. Or rather, he didn't see it. The old steamboat was gone. Impossible! It had been rotting there in its moorings for over ten years. He strode out to the landing, a chorus of crickets momentarily receding, then returning. He stood at the vacant wharf, a stack of coiled rope at either end. Perhaps he had imagined it, the steamboat moored and nuzzling the dock. She could not have gone, like that, in an eye's blink. It was then that he heard it, a calliope from somewhere around the bend in the river, and he heard a laugh, and a voice, the captain's voice. "On to Cairo," it said. "Now make steam you broke-dick mamalukes!" |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Janie Date: 20 Jun 14 - 07:17 PM Oh! Damn! |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: MMario Date: 20 Jun 14 - 07:27 PM It just hit me; it's the eve of the summer solstice... |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: GUEST Date: 20 Jun 14 - 07:29 PM It hurts too badly to even be silly. From Soch who misses the F out of the man....Oh Karen.....raise a glass to you too lady! |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Janie Date: 20 Jun 14 - 07:47 PM The older hillbilly woman with the chicken neck sidles into the room. She's been here a few times and always been a bit wowed by the wit and 'activity.' Never equal to it and mostly has popped in and then fled. Tonight is a special time, however, and she vows to herself to stick around, wallflower or not. Being here matters. She tries to overcome her fear and not shrink away as a tentacle writhes through the back entrance into the dark and smoky tavern.... |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Lonesome EJ Date: 20 Jun 14 - 08:08 PM Slithering forward, a creature from the depths of the Ohio takes a damp seat at the bar next to Blake Madison. "I'll have seven beers,"says the tentacled creature. "Seven?" says Madison, "aren't you an octopus?" "No, actually I'm a septopus" said the creature, slamming the first of its beers. "Lost a tentacle in a sperm whale bar three years ago." Madison vowed never to touch a Jack Daniels again. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Amergin Date: 20 Jun 14 - 09:20 PM The poet sits at the table in the corner, his tablet laid out before him, next to an empty shot glass, and a half full glass of a local IPA. He holds a black gel pen in his right hand...he is fucking tired of writing about death, but it seems to be coming more often these days. Once that is all he wrote, even though it barely touched his life...but those are the long days of youthful angst. Now, he writes to commemorate those he loves...he licks his lips, tastes the whiskey remains that lie beneath the bitter beer drops...and he sets down, playing the words sprawled on the page as if they were a tune, the tablet his clársach, the pen, the strings. He walks down the rows between apple trees, stretched limbs reach for heaven's floor, he turns back, one final look, then steps into the shadows. Oh hell....he knows he can do better than that...and he will...maybe just not yet. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Sandra in Sydney Date: 20 Jun 14 - 09:38 PM another wallflower joins the hillybilly woman ... |
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Subject: RE: MudCatSpaw Tavern - From: Severn Date: 20 Jun 14 - 10:09 PM Did somebody get a list from Karen of Spaw's favorite songs, including whatever words he himself rewrote, in case the spirit moves anyone to song? |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: gnu Date: 20 Jun 14 - 10:34 PM I'll raise a Turkey Turd to Spaw. He was one of the few who embraced it in spirit. Spaw... gnighgnu |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Rex Date: 20 Jun 14 - 10:52 PM Here's a Pabst Blue Ribbon raised to Spaw. I figure that was the brew of choice where he lived. It was when I lived in Ohio. Yeah he's left a big hole in Mudcat but the place is better for his time here. I've been able to meet with other 'catters twice so far. I'm telling you all, I'm feeling a strong urge to meet with some more now. Rex |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: ranger1 Date: 20 Jun 14 - 11:12 PM The little ranger slips in quietly, looks around, and produces a singing, dancing animatronic penguin that proceeds to burst into flames. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Joe Offer Date: 20 Jun 14 - 11:31 PM Somehow, I think Spaw would like me to sing Dropkick Me Jesus Through the Goalposts of Life. He was always trying to get me to loosen up.... |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Sandra in Sydney Date: 21 Jun 14 - 12:03 AM Joe - did you notice one of the Youtube links was to a version performed at a Baptist Church festival? |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Janie Date: 21 Jun 14 - 12:11 AM Sandra from Sidney and I, after tossing back an Iron City or three, wrap an arm around each other and move out onto to the dance floor, singing "Boom chicka boom, donchajustlovit" kicking high like dance hall girls, big real smiles and big real tears on our faces. Is that about a dear, shared loss, or is that about fear and triumph at avoiding being groped by tenacles? A possum who had moved into the seemingly abandoned tavern a few months ago suddenly drops from the rafters. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Sandra in Sydney Date: 21 Jun 14 - 12:26 AM ya gotta watch those possums, the small ones can get into instruments & make life interesting ... Click to display (joeweb)pic shows an Australian possum hiding in a harp & was taken by occasional OzCatter Canberra Chris. Oz possums are cuter than US opossums, but just as much a pest in gardens & roof spaces & when they get in the house. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Severn Date: 21 Jun 14 - 12:51 AM They have special ones here. These are Spawsums! They breed and cross 'em so's they're twice as awesome as a mere possum when you toss 'em. !...... |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: GUEST,LTS on the sofa Date: 21 Jun 14 - 01:17 AM Thanks for opening up, MMario, I was stuck in the bathroom again. Who the hell keeps putting turkey turds in the lock?! Anyhoo.... I'll just slide in here next to the wallflower and the hillbilly - wouldn't that make you a hill jilly? - we'll have a pitcher of cranberry juice please, no possums. Here's to an amazing guy, the best friend I never met. I can think of no better way of saluting him than this: Salute LTS |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Bert Date: 21 Jun 14 - 01:53 AM There's never a good time for leaving There's no good time for goodbye There's never a good time for leaving it always makes somebody cry There's never a good time for leaving There's never a good time for going Darling say you won't go There's never a good time for going I'll love you for ever I know There's never a good time for going Darling don't leave me Oh tell me you'll stay stay here beside me for just one more day There's never a good time for leaving There's never a good time for leaving There's no good time for goodbye There's never a good time for leaving it always makes somebody cry There's never a good time for leaving |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Nigel Parsons Date: 21 Jun 14 - 05:40 AM Hey barkeep, why's my beer taste salty? Oh yeah, put the change in the charity jar, "In Memorium" It needs the money, the funds in the swear box seem to have dried up. Let's raise one more glass to Pat! Cheers Nigel |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: GUEST,Eliza Date: 21 Jun 14 - 05:45 AM A fat old lady is now sitting with the hillbilly woman and the wallflower. Pint (yes!) of Guinness please, and...er... any crumpets to be had around here? |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Leadfingers Date: 21 Jun 14 - 06:05 AM One I can cross off my "I want to Meet" list but for the worst possible reason ! |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Bat Goddess Date: 21 Jun 14 - 10:23 AM Quietly sitting here in the Widows' Corner sobbing into my beer. The Widows' Corner is getting crowded. Damn! Damn damn damn damn fuck it! Karen's way too busy to be here right now. I hope someone is keeping her fed...there's absolutely no time to cook between phone calls and visits -- even if she wanted to. Linn |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: GUEST,Dani Date: 21 Jun 14 - 11:25 AM No crumpets, but I brought a plate full of Buckeyes. Look 'em up. Chocolate, peanut butter, very meaningful apparently, but vaguely turd-like. Double Jack, neat, please. Here's to you, 'Spaw. Thanks for the laughter, the love, the shining example. "Just. When. I. Thought. All was lost. You changed my mind. You. Gave. Me. Hope (not just the old softsoap) You showed me that we could learn to share in time (you and me and Rockefeller). I'll. Keep. Plugging. On. Your face will shine Through all our tears. And when. We sing. Another little. Victory song. Precious Friend, you will be there. SINGING IN HARMONY.... Precious Friend, you will be there. Dani |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: gnu Date: 21 Jun 14 - 01:02 PM I am an emotional person. Yeah... yeah... I know... "No shit, Sherlock." But, I usually suck it up after a wee bit over these kinda things. Not this time. The tears just won't stop when I read the threads. So here is some personal therapy. I hope it comforts someone else. It's Spaw's 2nd or third last post to Nigel's thread..... Subject: RE: Jane's Rainbow: for all needing support & comfort From: catspaw49 - PM Date: 24 May 14 - 09:46 AM So...............Whatever you can cross, keep crossed. This is the end of another chemo week and that has always been my lowest point. Made changes in daily meds and diet to better work the balance between the CHF, Intestinal thickening, COD, and the MDS. Today (and this week) I feel better than I have in a couple of years.....and even before the MDS. I look better, have a lot more energy, less O2 demand..went out and ran around yesterday PM and didn't even pack any along....Hard to tell what happens next. We'll see what the numbers do over the next couple of weeks and know more then. Balancing this crap is a hell of a juggling act and about half of it I know as much about what to do as the Docs. We upped the Lasix but with the water being the best source for stool softeners and the thickening of the intestinal walls, the added Lasix took that water away as well. So I modified my diet. Then I modified the Lasix dosage (okayed by the my cardio guy) to some alternate day dosage levels and things are moving, so to speak.LOL Better yet, there seems to be no fluid at all around my heart....This is serious progress. Then add that the current chemo has a strong fatigue factor and so is then accompanied by a steroid has obviously helped. I really wanna' see the numbers now....Keep 'em all crossed Folks. I know, and you should too so there's no confusion, MDS is not curable but I going to buy all the time with Karen I can. While this past year has been great together, there has been far too many 10 day periods of chemo misery and many days spent low in numbers before I can get blood. Nobody my age beats this. Not Nora Ephrom, not Carl Sagan, and not me. But June the 8th is my birthday and my wish is for one more year and especially one where I feel like I do now. Next year I'll repeat that and see how long we can do it! Sorry, I'm still pissed over the 'Cat but that's just because I do really miss what it once was. Time passes, things change, and as Tom Wolfe wrote, you can't go home again. I'll get over it....... Hugs once again for the crew here and follow Nigel's good advice: Set the sails...splice the mainbrace...plot a course for the sun. Spaw Thanks, buddy. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: SINSULL Date: 21 Jun 14 - 04:45 PM Exposing the wallflower table for the glorious garden it is, SINS slides in next to Eliza and toasts her old friend with a JD on the rocks with a twist. "Times like this I hate being an atheist." |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: GUEST,Gervase Date: 21 Jun 14 - 05:05 PM Aw, I dunno; atheism can be pretty profound too: "The death of each of us is in the order of things: it follows life as surely as night follows day. We can take the Tree of Life as a symbol. The human race is the trunk and the branches of the tree, and individual men and women are the leaves, which appear one season, flourish for a summer, and then die. One day we will all be torn off by a storm or simply decay and fall and become part of the earth about its roots. While we live we are conscious of the tree's flowing sap and steadfast strength. Deep down in our consciousness is the consciousness of a collective life, a life of which we are all part and to which we all make minute but unique contributions. When we die and fall the tree remains, nourished to some degree by our manifestation of life. Millions of leaves have preceded us and millions will follow us, but the tree itself grows and endures." That was by Herbert Read; art historian, anarchist and all-round hell-raiser. And as good a summation as any Christian doxology. Bless you, Pat. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: GUEST,Gervase Date: 21 Jun 14 - 05:15 PM Meanwhile, this is for Pat. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Janie Date: 21 Jun 14 - 05:36 PM The thing about being skeptics, Sins, is we can always hope to be proved wrong. Bartender, set the house up with what Sins is drinking. Thanks. Now, somebody lead the toast. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: gnu Date: 21 Jun 14 - 05:42 PM UP SPAW! |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Crowhugger Date: 21 Jun 14 - 08:26 PM Adjacent to widow's corner are we who know our turn likely must come sooner or later. For the time being, wearing my best iridescent black to honour a friend who passed, I toast Spaw yet again. Pass the Drambuie. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Effsee Date: 21 Jun 14 - 09:52 PM Guest Gervase..."The death of each of us is in the order of things: it follows life as surely as night follows day. We can take the Tree of Life as a symbol. The human race is the trunk and the branches of the tree, and individual men and women are the leaves, which appear one season, flourish for a summer, and then die. One day we will all be torn off by a storm or simply decay and fall and become part of the earth about its roots. While we live we are conscious of the tree's flowing sap and steadfast strength. Deep down in our consciousness is the consciousness of a collective life, a life of which we are all part and to which we all make minute but unique contributions. When we die and fall the tree remains, nourished to some degree by our manifestation of life. Millions of leaves have preceded us and millions will follow us, but the tree itself grows and endures." That was by Herbert Read; art historian, anarchist and all-round hell-raiser... I think you will find that what you quote is the work of Khalil Gibran, not Herbert Read. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Jeri Date: 21 Jun 14 - 10:13 PM It's Herbert Read. Does everything around here have to be an argument? Google the quotation. Herbert Read: The Tree of Life |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Jeri Date: 21 Jun 14 - 10:24 PM Maybe we could just sing along with this, because it seems sort of related to the Read writing: What's the Life of a Man (Alex Campbell) ...I certainly can't argue and sing at the same time. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Bat Goddess Date: 21 Jun 14 - 10:42 PM None of us are going to get out of this world alive. The best we can hope for is a good death...no pain, all of our marbles, surrounded by family and friends, and, if at all possible, music. Here's to you, 'Spaw. Rest easy. Enjoy your next great adventure. Please give Tom (Curmudgeon) my love... Linn |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: frogprince Date: 21 Jun 14 - 10:43 PM I'm tempted to suggest that we all sing "Honey". (Pat expounded at various times on how much he detested that song; hearing it might make him feel better about leaving all of us). |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Janie Date: 21 Jun 14 - 11:11 PM I'll drink (and sing) to that! Another round, barkeep! We are deep in sorrow. Need to climb our way up to celebration, even in the midst of sorrow. Sorrow not just for our loss of Spaw, but the too recent accumulative losses of Tom, Kat, JiK, combined with Spaw. Tests one's resilience, it does. Also one's intestines. PPHHHIssssssstttttt. Stealth attack. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: gnu Date: 21 Jun 14 - 11:28 PM KEEP!... put all Bat Goddess' drinks on my tab. Her money is no good tonight. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Jeri Date: 21 Jun 14 - 11:37 PM Not that stealthy, Janie! (Sombody wanna get the fan?) |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: ranger1 Date: 21 Jun 14 - 11:48 PM To hell with a fan! Anybody got a match? |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Mrrzy Date: 22 Jun 14 - 12:16 AM The catcordeon yowls. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Janie Date: 22 Jun 14 - 12:21 AM Hey, didn't you see my finger pointing at the possum? Well, somewhere between the possum and Eliza. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: JennieG Date: 22 Jun 14 - 02:05 AM A short woman with long hair and an Ozzie accent sidles in from the door in the corner and mutters: "What on earth is that pong? Has someone been pharting again?" Avoiding a puddle on the floor, she strolls up to the bar and orders a bottle of Sparkling Blue Methylated Spirits to keep up her own. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: GUEST,Eliza Date: 22 Jun 14 - 04:41 AM If Eliza drinks a whole pint of Guinness, there'll be another puddle, unless she can wend her way unsteadily to the loo. (Is there a loo?) I'm very sorry indeed to hear about the passing of Spaw. My sincere condolences to his family and friends. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: maeve Date: 22 Jun 14 - 08:42 AM For gnu and others here...a link Pat sent me back in May of 2009. Colo-Rectal Surgeon Song |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: maeve Date: 22 Jun 14 - 09:07 AM And I think he would have loved this story...especially the last sentence. http://www.independent.ie/world-news/europe/leading-scientist-ejected-by-audience-after-trying-to-crowd-surf-at-classical-music-concert-30371249.html Sorry to post links rather than clever and creative posts such as those before mine- I just can't right now. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Rapparee Date: 22 Jun 14 - 02:23 PM Quietly, he ties Ferd the Flatulent Horse to the hitching post and accompanied by the miasma which envelopes everyone who rides Ferd, enters the North-North-West by East door. He removes his black-plumed hat, fires his blunderbuss at the ceiling, and shouts, "Drinks are on me!" Sloshing in his shoes from the various drinks tossed and poured on him, he makes his way to the bar and, "Smithwick's, please. Cool but not cold. In a glass. A LARGE glass. Perhaps a bucket." The barkeep takes his blunderbuss, hangs it on a hook, and hands him the check claim along with a five-gallon bucket of Smithwick's. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Amergin Date: 23 Jun 14 - 03:47 AM The poet still sits at the table, writing....or trying to....his empty glass collection gradually grew from a couple, to a small army, as the liquor burns in his stomach. He looks up, at the widows' table, and then the wallflowers, and the bookworn, librarian highwayman drinking a bucket of Smithwick's. He lifts his own pint of IPA, and tastes the bitter bubbles as they slide over his tongue, spill down his throat. He sets the glass down. Then, he looks at the saltwater smudged words on his tablet...words that spread as the tears drip down his guttered cheeks, smeared the paper. He just shakes his head and writes on....this draft nearly finished. The tune's distant strains murmur on light air currents through open windows calls him, bewitches to track the tattered strands of the song. The fingered notes yank his heart, pushes him to rise from his bed, and breathe goodbye in her ear, as his lips savour hers one last time. He walks from the room, follows the beckoning song as it calls for him from the mist shadowed fog line across the apple orchard. He follows the song, tentacles of mist grab him, cool vapour fingers lock over his wrists, his ankles tow him deeper in the wood.. He strolls down the rows between apple trees, stretched limbs reach for heaven's floor, he turns back, one final look, then steps into the shadows. He places the pen in the spiral wire that binds the pages together, and closes the notebook. Then, he lifts his last shot of Black Bush, and toasts, "To Pat, sleep well and safe journey." He pours the whiskey down his throat, then chases it with the beer. Next, he slams his money on the table, including tip, rises from his chair, and staggers out the door. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: SINSULL Date: 23 Jun 14 - 09:10 AM Ah yes...Gordon Bok fans, nose flutes, and blue blazers. Pour me another and join in on the chorus. See the tree how big it's grown But friends it hasn't been too long Since it wasn't big not sure I can finish this... |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Rapparee Date: 23 Jun 14 - 11:35 AM Quietly, he slams the now empty bucket through the bar, yells out "To SPAW, who will never leave us!" and sings: My life flows on, but something's wrong-- I'm caught in consternation; Whenever I begin to sing there's rising agitation. My singing voice was not my choice, Fate brought it sweetly winging, Since Fate's to blame, I now proclaim: you can't keep me from singing! My voice is hoarse, but then, of course, a sweet smooth voice is boring. And if a song be sad or long, I pep it up by roaring! To sing on pitch is something which was not in my upbringing; To sing off-key sounds fine to me, you can't keep me from singing! If I sing just right I can incite a peaceful group to riot Or offer me a handsome fee if only I'll be quiet! But I don't bargain with a mob, though tar and feathers they're bringing, Put down that noose and turn me loose you can't keep me from singing! The birds have fled my neighborhood, their tiny eardrums shattered; My neighbours, too, have said, "Adieu!", but it hasn't really mattered. My daily mail brings threats of death and curses coarse and stinging, I heed them not they're a tin-eared lot and they can't keep me from singing! and then he roars out Each living thing its song must sing, life sings to life in chorus; Our song brings courage when we do not know what lies before us. Our songs of freedom, love and hope down through the ages ringing-- Cold Death defy and that is why you can't keep me from singing! Finished for the moment, he heads to Gent's -- the Smithwick's demanding to the set free again. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Bat Goddess Date: 23 Jun 14 - 12:16 PM Aw, gnu... you've got me blubbering again. Not so quietly this time... Linn |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: GUEST Date: 23 Jun 14 - 02:01 PM "A little help here?" a voice queries from the Gent's. "I seem to have part of my anatomy stuck in the buttons." |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Rapparee Date: 23 Jun 14 - 02:03 PM That cri de coeur was from me. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: GUEST,Janie Date: 23 Jun 14 - 02:55 PM The Bar Keep, with a look and a nod, sent the Octopus to the Gent's to help out. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Nigel Parsons Date: 23 Jun 14 - 03:26 PM The Bar Keep, with a look and a nod, sent the Octopus to the Gent's to help out. Ah, the miracle of good beer. He was only a septopus on page one. Several good drinks later and he's re-grown his eighth testicle! I'll have what he's having, and a large Paddy's as a chaser. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Rapparee Date: 23 Jun 14 - 10:00 PM It was just wound around his fly buttons -- no damage. He quietly goes to the bar and whispers, ANOTHER GALLON OF RED BREAST, PLEASE!!! Outside, Ferd the Flatulent Horse is insidiously casting his spell, which creeps under doors, through keyholes, and slinks through any unplugged hole like a Maine Coon Cat. Even the smoke from the chimneys begin to back up, driven down by a heavier vapor. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Janie Date: 23 Jun 14 - 10:23 PM The Octopus slithers back to the jello pit, disappointment dimming his large eyes. He had hoped to acquire a ninth testicle. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Janie Date: 23 Jun 14 - 11:05 PM Janie speaks, voice quiet because there is no need for volume to be heard above a morose and quiet gathering. "One of ya'll who go waay back, tell us a good Spaw story. A good 'remember the time when...." |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Roger the Skiffler Date: 24 Jun 14 - 05:29 AM I haven't used the jello tanker for quite a while, I hope lime is OK. I've got a load for the wrestling pit, just let me clear this blockage.... OOps, sorry, , goes everywhere doesn't it- have you got enough towels? I'll just aim it at the pit now. RtS |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: MMario Date: 24 Jun 14 - 08:37 AM well - the door in the side wall - the one that's boarded up? 'Spaw was the first (and only) one to pass through it and survive...I'll have to see if I can find the thread... and of course we need to find the one where he first met Cleigh; and first puffed possum butt... |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Bert Date: 24 Jun 14 - 10:08 AM It was Spaw, who first mentioned my namesakeThe steamboat Albert Hansell.. It is sad to hear that she is sunk. Don't forget that her holds were full of whiskey and tobacco. Perhaps we should do a Mary Ellen Carter on her and drink all that whiskey. We could patch her rents, stop her vents, dog hatch and porthole down, fill her with flatulence and watch her rise again. There is a whole generation of Mudcatters who will forever think of Spaw every time they hear a fart joke. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Rapparee Date: 25 Jun 14 - 09:33 AM Gradually the smoke is forced down, down, down into the room. A murmuring is heard: "Why is so smoky all of a sudden?" "What the bloody HELL is that stink?" "Bert forgot the bathe again!" and even ruder comments. The gent with the sword has carved out a place for himself in the prevailing atmosphere and calls for another bottle of Talisker. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: SINSULL Date: 25 Jun 14 - 07:12 PM And with a flick of her Bic, SINSULL yells "Let the games begin!!!!!!" A huge blast: a huge ball of flame and the chimney once again draws. Almost as good as the Christmas Tree fire... But WAIT!!!!! Whose face is burned into the brarroom floor?????? Or is that bar room? |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: frogprince Date: 25 Jun 14 - 07:26 PM It can't be Jesus, 'cause he always has a beard. Doesn't look quite right for the Virgin Mary. These smudgy miraculous images are always sorta subject to interpretation, but I think that it's either Jerry Falwell, Rush Limbaugh, or Saint Patrick Patterson. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Rapparee Date: 25 Jun 14 - 09:32 PM It's a miracle! And the face appeared inside of the swordsman's quirt! Yes! It's a Miracle Whip! |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: SINSULL Date: 26 Jun 14 - 12:10 PM Put your quirt back where it belongs, Rap. There are ladies present. 'TWAS a balmy summer evening, and a goodly crowd was there, Which well-nigh filled Joe's barroom, on the corner of the square; |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Dave Wynn Date: 26 Jun 14 - 06:03 PM The telephone rings.....when it's answered a voice says "can't make the tavern but I would like to say Spaw once said to me 'F*** off you piece of shit rat bastard and take your friggin' worthless ass to some other site' It was the nicest thing anyone ever said to me. Here's to you Spaw,I'm drinking a Whyte and Mackays, save me a space on the steamboat, window seat, somewhere in a corner near a bar."...............click..dial tone. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: gnu Date: 26 Jun 14 - 06:19 PM "Saint Patrick Patterson"? I am sure it will be St. Spaw. And, He WILL be my patron saint forever. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Rapparee Date: 26 Jun 14 - 10:07 PM There is no patron saint of the perpetually flatulent. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: JennieG Date: 27 Jun 14 - 02:52 AM The usual crowd were meeting, and some who had never been, As they raised a glass to Cletus, Possum, and Spaw - A voice came from the background, 'twas a small voice, soft and sweet, "I haven't seen so many here before! Look at all the familiar faces, some not seen for a while, All gathered here to share a memory....... 'Tis wonderful to see you all! How are you, my old friends? Let's all tune up, and sing a song with me!" |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Rapparee Date: 27 Jun 14 - 09:59 AM "Great!" says the man with the sword. "I propose a toast to Le Pétomane! M'sieur Spaw would appreciate it! And we need more bean and cabbage burritos!" |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: SINSULL Date: 27 Jun 14 - 11:29 AM broccoli and sauerkraut souffle on the way |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: JennieG Date: 27 Jun 14 - 09:01 PM Would you prefer a side of pickled onions with that soufflé, or perhaps curried eggs? How about a dish of each? |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: GUEST,Artful Codger Date: 29 Jun 14 - 07:48 PM The next to come in was a reckoner, He was a flirtatious beckoner; The ladies complied with his beckoning And bedecked our jovial crew. He assessed their gifts, he totted their talents While on his knees two maids he did balance And downed his ale with the greatest nonchalance When Jones's ale was new, my boys, When Jones's ale was new! When the landlord's daughter she came in.... |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: gnu Date: 30 Jun 14 - 01:02 PM Can we get a big screen TV in here so we can put on the World Cup? No sound, of course. I'd rather hear the banter and the songs. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: GUEST,Eliza Date: 30 Jun 14 - 04:26 PM Oops! Sorry, I dozed off over here in the corner. All those crumpets made me sleepy. What's been going on eh? Have I missed anything? Ladies sitting on a fellow's knee? I'd squash the poor chap flat. More Guinnesh pleash! |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: An Pluiméir Ceolmhar Date: 13 May 15 - 07:59 PM A fitting tribute to a friend I never even met. It's the gratuitously silly but bizarrely creative posts that bring the tears to my eyes. Even an atheist lives on in the affection of the friends he/she has touched. |
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Subject: RE: MudCat Tavern - From: Janie Date: 13 May 15 - 09:28 PM Tears and laughter, rereading this. A good bit of joy and delight. Found myself searching for this song as a good metaphor. Early "Early" (Greg Brown, copyright 1980 Love Breeze Publishing) Early one morning I walked out alone, I looked down the street; no one was around. The sun was just comin' up over my home, On Hickory Street in a little farm town. And [chorus:] Oooo-ee, ain't the mornin' light pretty, When the dew is still heavy, so bright and early. My home on the range; it's a one-horse town, And it's alright with me. Plow broke the prairie, the prairie gave plenty, The little towns blossomed and soon there were many. Scattered like fireflies across the dark night, And one was called Early, and they sure named it right. 'Cause [repeat chorus] Many dry summers parched all the fields, They burnt the fine colors and cut down on the yield. But the rain has returned to wash away our tears, It's the fullest green summer that We've seen for years. And [repeat chorus] |
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