The Ultimate Derailing Thread

reply to post by Chadwickus


I see your point..... Wow, I never knew!!!

Thanks for taking the time to explain Chad.

Ofcourse this can be explained by years of experimenting with the sniffing of different kinds of glue but i guess we should really ask December_Rain since he brought up the subject...

Wasn't it you who suggested bonding glue, December_Rain??

Peace

This reminds me of the my day out on the Verde Canyon
Railroad in Arizona... no-no, don't worry, BIAD was in no
derailment, just some of the things said here are similar
to the conversations I heard.

Anyway, Saucy Cyril and myself were standing on the
viewing platform... the carriage was too warm and the glue
that holds my red wig on was starting to ooze... but I digress.

By the way, do you like my new one? the red strips make me
look younger, don't you think?

The speakers from the buffet car played easy-listening Reiki
relaxation music and the effect was soothing.
High up, Bald Eagles soared majestically and the bright sun
shone down into the Canyon making it seem like the train was
taking us to paradise.

Cyril wandered off to get us both a small beer and I let the passing
hair cool my unwrinkled forehead... I was happy and the world was
one with itself.

Then a man appeared beside me, he was around forty years-old
and his clothes implied he was a tourist. "Hello..." he said softly,
"... my name is Simon" His smile was broad and he seem to carry
himself with a easy stance.
I nodded and straightened my dress, "I'm BIAD... I'm an ATSer"
I crooned, he wasn't a bad looker.

We looked each other up and down and then he whispered " do
you Mutter?" The train trundled on as I took in the question.
"Why yes, I do Simon" I said , I stood to my full height... I knew
I was representing the ATS gang.

"Then you'll know Chadwickus, anxietydisorder, schrodingers dog
and the like huh?" he asked. I smiled as the names were said, each
one fired like bullets.
"I certainly do..." I responded with pride "... I know them as friends"

The cliff faces raced by as we entered another canyon and far up,
I could see hikers going their merry way.

Simon peered off towards a dry river bed, his thoughts had flown
from him and he was struggling to gather them. "Er... what, what's
the best Thread you've been on?" he stammered and I could see
that he was losing control of the conversation.

I slowly placed my red-nail varnished fingers on his shoulder and
said paternal-like "there're all good Threads Simon... it's as simple
as that" I half-expected him to retreat from my actions, but he
just allowed his smile to return.

Over Simon's shoulder, I could see Cyril returning with two clinking
bottles in his grout-stained hands. Simon also glanced over his shoulder
and seemed to know that our time was nearly up.

"If you speak to them again..." he said, and his eyes focused on the
passing scrubland, "... will you tell them I'm okay?" He looked crest-
fallen and lonely.

I patted his shoulder gently and offered "I will make sure your message
gets through" I hoped my kind face gave him some joy.
He nodded and waddled away towards a small crowd of camera-clicking
tourists and I saw his shadow follow doggedly.

"Who's the geek" Cyril hissed passing me a Corona, Cyril eyed Simon's
back with distaste. "Never you mind..." I pouted "... he's one of my crowd"

The train trundled on.

reply to post by operation mindcrime


Tell you what there are better things to sniff, ask these scientists


I understand these scientist may have a hard job but it's nothing compared to be a target


Interestingly the guy in the above pic was in the business of horse riding. Now that's a very dangerous business you see


but atleast it's better than collecting elephant poo


Life is tough!

[edit on 8-3-2010 by December_Rain]

As the above post illustrates, prior to OSHA, there were very few regulations in the workplace.

Speaking of regulations, I wonder if the government will step in and require more regulations on cars from Japan. The press has done a marvelous job of smearing a company formerly synonymous with quality, to boost the American car market, so it would seem regulations are the next step in that battle. Don't you think?


(derailed enough?)

Now I am REALLY curious to see what blackviolet wrote. Anyway, have some

Which came first the rooster or the hen?

reply to post by Voyager1



The rooster!

I have Rooster story... it happened around fifteen years ago.

I used to work on a farm back there and back then, it was
a job I'd aquired to buy my first dress.
The toil was hard, all day under a hot sun with blisters and
sneezing from hay dust.
I wore bib and braces then and I actually enjoyed the freedom
they gave you around the chest area.

That was when I met the rooster, I'd been cleaning out the hen
house with my trusty shovel, when around the corner he strutted.

This cockerel ran the roost, you could tell in it's swagger and it's
beady eyes that watched me with disdain. His wattles flapped below
it's beak and his tail feathers stuck out with a jaunty air.
I'm not too keen on birds, their flapping and scuttling around urges a
panic inside that makes me ponder fight or flight.

Anyway, it wandered towards me and stopped in my afternoon
shadow, an accusing look on it's feathered face. I gulped to myself
and forced the vision of the starling egg-blue dress I was wanting to
buy, into my mind... it's little white collar and the way it fluttered in
the breeze.

The rooster never stood a chance and thinking back, the accuracy
of my shovel was sight to behold... I swung that mutha like Babe Ruth!

Farmer Biggins didn't admire my keen sense of bird-dislike and that
dress stayed in the shop window of 'Carmine's Fashions' until fall.

I don't like Roosters.
Thank you.

[edit on 9-3-2010 by A boy in a dress]

That is as close as you are going to get boys!

Don't get me started on goats!...

I once went for a jolly outing to the countryside
with a friend of mine, a big man called Chopper Jones.

Chopper got his name from the famous steam-loco driver,
Casey Jones.
As his bright red convertible sped along the small countryside
lanes and the sun sparkled through the leafy trees bordering
it, I felt good and I was glad to be out of the city.

Chopper gunned the engine and on we raced towards a
small meadow, where we would settle down and have a picnic.
The morning was falling away as I laid the tartan blanket and
sorted through the plastic crockery.

I had prepared many dishes, Chopper eats like a horse and
I had set myself a task to satisfy this vast man.
As he gorged on some salmon and cucumbers sandwiches,
a greasy chicken leg hung from one hand as he did this,
I spied a couple of animals near a drystone wall, further along
the meadow.

They neared us and I could see it was two cute goats... their
nodding heads focused on possible edible morsels among the long
grass.
Then a horned head turned to us and I could just make out those
dull accusing eyes scanning for food, Chopper munched on.

I squinted at the scene and Chopper followed my gaze, his face
red as his car with the exertion of eating. The food had almost gone
and I wasn't too bothered, I eat like very little these days, my figure
doesn't bounce back like it used to.

The brown goat stomped over towards us, a soft braying left it's
leathery lips, asking what we were to offer this intruding Pan.

I glanced at Chopper and saw that he was grinning, cucumber
and salmon adorned his teeth , but he looked happy. The second goat
scampered to catch up with it's compadre and the pair then moved
with speed towards us.
Chopper stood up.

To this day, I have never seen anything like it and I don't think I
ever will again.
Chopper barrelled his chest, taking in two huge lungfuls of air, I could
even hear the air rush down his large windpipe.

The goats galloped on, the food was theirs they believed... their field,
their food.

With what I can only describe as a sound I'd expect to hear from ram-jet
engines out at White Sands, Chopper expelled the air, the trapped gas
fleeing and carrying residue of that morning's picnic with it and the goats
didn't stand a chance.

The leading goat, the one who first decided to raid our little party, went
first. With a small bray of helplessness, it shot into the air and somersaulted
towards a small copse of trees at the far end of the meadow.

The second one, the mangy black goat that had probably followed the other one
all it's life, flew off and disappeared over the drystone wall...
both never seen again.

Chopper stretched his back and I could hear loud clicks as his vertebrae slotted
back into place. The smile resurfaced and he said softly... "So, any dessert?"
I unpacked the Jell-O.


[edit on 11-3-2010 by A boy in a dress]

i thought I'd click on this thread to see what it's about.

It didn't take long for me to see I was wasting my time.

Give me back my 30 seconds I wasted.

[edit on 29-3-2010 by Damian-007]

Originally posted by Damian-007
i thought I'd click on this thread to see what it's about.

It didn't take long for me to see I was wasting my time.

Give me back my 30 seconds I wasted.

Funny you would mention 30 seconds.

Today I broke my ALL TIME RECORD for clipping all 10 fingernails and toenails! Unbelievable! 29.7 seconds, but we'll round that up to 30

My dad was a doctor and always explained how dirty & germy nails are so guess what I did?

Ate 'em. Dad sure knew something because they tasted NASTY let me tell 'ya. Oh well, whatever doesn't kill me makes me stronger!

(they go good with ketchup or as a pizza topping, just brown them first)



[edit on 29-3-2010 by Signals]

My parents are older than me by about 25 years.
My sister is 1 year and 17 days older than I am.

I'm a twin.
Should I worry.