Good Vibrations
We started off at each other's virtual throats, your man there
and me. Didn't take him long to get it, though, and pretty soon
we were at each others posts. We liked the sound of voice. I
liked him like I like my friend Seamus, a Limerick man, as well.
You know there's something they know that you can't know
like they know and it isn't annoying, nearly. I know Bob knew
about cooking. Me, I can't cook toast, so I never talked to
him about his passion for food and drink, for providing food and
drink. Mostly we'd meet up in a thread in MW to deflate the
balloon of one or other pomping stupid with his or her own prick
. . . if you follow. Lots a laughs. Well, we laughed.
Sometimes he'd join me in one of my bike threads, nostalgically
recalling the good old days. He told me about a Flying Brick
he once owned, a bike so completely German that I was almost
offended that someone of the Italian persuasion should give it
houseroom, never mind enjoy riding it. I happened later to ride
one, an immaculate 50K miler, and I'm here to tell you folks,
it bloody nearly shook my fillings out, and by the end of my ride
my arse was vibrating at 7000 revs per minute and I couldn't
see straight. Consulting himself on the matter, he remarked he was
surprised he hadn't mentioned it, it was one of the reasons he
liked it. I'll miss that about my virtual friend, the way he expected
us all to love what he loved. There are limits, Bob! I'll also miss
and me. Didn't take him long to get it, though, and pretty soon
we were at each others posts. We liked the sound of voice. I
liked him like I like my friend Seamus, a Limerick man, as well.
You know there's something they know that you can't know
like they know and it isn't annoying, nearly. I know Bob knew
about cooking. Me, I can't cook toast, so I never talked to
him about his passion for food and drink, for providing food and
drink. Mostly we'd meet up in a thread in MW to deflate the
balloon of one or other pomping stupid with his or her own prick
. . . if you follow. Lots a laughs. Well, we laughed.
Sometimes he'd join me in one of my bike threads, nostalgically
recalling the good old days. He told me about a Flying Brick
he once owned, a bike so completely German that I was almost
offended that someone of the Italian persuasion should give it
houseroom, never mind enjoy riding it. I happened later to ride
one, an immaculate 50K miler, and I'm here to tell you folks,
it bloody nearly shook my fillings out, and by the end of my ride
my arse was vibrating at 7000 revs per minute and I couldn't
see straight. Consulting himself on the matter, he remarked he was
surprised he hadn't mentioned it, it was one of the reasons he
liked it. I'll miss that about my virtual friend, the way he expected
us all to love what he loved. There are limits, Bob! I'll also miss
the regular funnies he circulated. I dined out on more than a few.
Bon Voyage, old mate, and if there's any justice, Bon Appetit.
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