Hi, I'm gnu here.


I wasn't always gnu, in fact, there used to be a thread here in which I axed people to not come in, but they did anywayz. scream 


But I was having some issues with my account here due to the fact we were sorting out the new site and something in my account got corrupted...or the new site is smart and recognizes bad character when it sees it... 


Anywayz, Eddie zapped my old account and this is a gnu one that has not caught on to my lack of worthiness yet and so far is very excepting of my presence here.   


To all of you who poasted on the other thread, my apologies for your fine ruminations being erased, it appears that all my threads went with my old account. 


So yeah, I'm gnu here. 




Clearly, I cannot leave you people Ali e for five minutes. Now, you've gone and broken The Slinn!

WTF, y'all???

Gilly, you have 90 days to heal. Get busy.

The Man





Yes Boss.

Sorry Boss.

Right away Boss.

How are we expected to survive with a "Broken Slinn?" The entire world is going to "Hell in a Handbasket!"  Regardless, Merry Christmas and a Happier New Year to all from West Mayberry! Get well soon, Gilly! ----Dave
Dave Rice said...

How are we expected to survive with a "Broken Slinn?" The entire world is going to "Hell in a Handbasket!"  Regardless, Merry Christmas and a Happier New Year to all from West Mayberry! Get well soon, Gilly! ----Dave





Yup - The Slinn is temporarily buggered. A snivelling, wretched lump of assorted components lying on the garage floor, waiting for nature's mechanics to reassemble 'em into an approximation of a functioning human being again. Hopefully.

I must live exclusively upstairs for the time being - where me bed and bathroom are just a short shuffle from one another. Those kind people from the 'ospital brought me microwave, kettle. toaster and stuff up here and turned me spare bedroom into a temporary field-kitchen, having gone out and done a bit of grocery shopping for me. I bought a little table-top fridge to keep me vittles in - so I'm pretty self-contained up here. Okay - so it takes me an hour to get out of bed in the morning - my leg and back having apparently fused together overnight as I can only sleep on me beck -  and the previously simple effort of assuming an upright posture before launching meself towards me walking frame for a wee wee, wash and a mug of tea has become a task of Herculean proportions. So having completed that little marathon I reward meself with a big swig from a bottle of Oxycodone - a couple more in sustained release tablet form - and wait for 'em to kick in. Then, the pain having subsided - and very slightly stoned, I can think about some breakfast - more tea - another wee wee - then settle down for a day of doing bugger-all - previously my idea of Heaven - but now not so great after all. 
But then again - not that bad all things considered. There are far worse things in life - and po' J's sudden departure puts things in perspective. You never know what's round the next corner - we stumble blindly on and hope for the best. 
Time for another swig from me brown bottle.

Hope you all have a truly terrific Christmas - have an extra mince-pie/brussel sprout/ turkey sammie/glass of hooch for old Gilly eh?




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Merry Christmas, Gilly:

The broken hip problem does not bother me nearly as much as worrying about you... spending the Christmas Season and coming New Year... all by your lonesome self.  You are right, though... when I am reminded of John... I know life deals different
hands to us (some worse than others) but we have so much to be grateful about... despite our mortality and pains.

Keep your chin up, kiddo. You are the only presence at the Ramp who happens to be irreplaceable... and a living legend.

Hugs,

----Dave



Clearly, I cannot leave you people Ali e for five minutes. Now, you've gone and broken The Slinn!

WTF, y'all???
The Man


Ya wrong Eddie.
In the words of Manfred Mann

"You've not seen nothin' like the mighty Slinn...."

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Dave Rice said...

Merry Christmas, Gilly:

The broken hip problem does not bother me nearly as much as worrying about you... spending the Christmas Season and coming New Year... all by your lonesome self.  You are right, though... when I am reminded of John... I know life deals different
hands to us (some worse than others) but we have so much to be grateful about... despite our mortality and pains.

Keep your chin up, kiddo. You are the only presence at the Ramp who happens to be irreplaceable... and a living legend.

Hugs,

----Dave






Aw - shucks Dave - Christmas by myself with no obligation to appear jolly, merry - or busting with seasonal goodwill suits me down to the ground. I never liked Christmas - except when I was a child of course:  all that contrived sentimentality and obligatory seasonal indulgence on "treats" that we are told must be partaken at Christmas. I can eat assorted nuts, "Eat Me" dates, Melba Fruits and stodgy fruit cake any time of the year if I choose to ( i don't)  - why should I be obliged to eat ' em at this particular time of year?  "A time for peace and goodwill to all men"  - after which presumably normal services can be resumed and we can pick up our cudgels once more and  continue beating the shit out of one another.
Should one dare to express a distaste for the seasonal jollities you risk being portrayed as a mean-spirited curmudgeon (Scrooge, The Grinch et al)  who must be shown the error of your ways and  set upon the path to enlightenment either by supernatural intervention or a bunch of nauseating, syrupy characters of infinite goodliness - that either scare the crap out you or exert subtle mind- control until you are lobotomised into the Christmas Spirit and start waving your VISA card at every available retailer for pointless trinkets, baubles and bright shiny shite which you haul, grinning like an idiot back home, then wrap in gaudy paper bought specially for the occasion - all the time wondering "Have I remembered everything? Will that six-foot turkey I was persuaded to buy actually fit in my oven? Was it Uncle Ted or Grandma who goes into anaphylactic shock at the mere sight of a pickled shrimp? 
Well call me a curmudgeon - call me anything you like ....

.... but I don't like Christmas and the peace and quiet of me own company (Enforced - I know)  is all the seasonal cheer I need right now.

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Gilly, It's good to hear you are on the mend ! If I had your medical connections, I would recommend a double script of the oxy and a handsome male nurse for your sponge bath.

Get well soon !
Blimey! I'm grinching with ya today. I have excused myself from all activities and I'm recharging on the couch all alone... my doggies are snoring and me thinks I will too!
Gilly Slinn said...






Aw - shucks Dave - Christmas by myself with no obligation to appear jolly, merry - or busting with seasonal goodwill suits me down to the ground. I never liked Christmas - except when I was a child of course:  all that contrived sentimentality and obligatory seasonal indulgence on "treats" that we are told must be partaken at Christmas. I can eat assorted nuts, "Eat Me" dates, Melba Fruits and stodgy fruit cake any time of the year if I choose to ( i don't)  - why should I be obliged to eat ' em at this particular time of year?  "A time for peace and goodwill to all men"  - after which presumably normal services can be resumed and we can pick up our cudgels once more and  continue beating the shit out of one another.
Should one dare to express a distaste for the seasonal jollities you risk being portrayed as a mean-spirited curmudgeon (Scrooge, The Grinch et al)  who must be shown the error of your ways and  set upon the path to enlightenment either by supernatural intervention or a bunch of nauseating, syrupy characters of infinite goodliness - that either scare the crap out you or exert subtle mind- control until you are lobotomised into the Christmas Spirit and start waving your VISA card at every available retailer for pointless trinkets, baubles and bright shiny shite which you haul, grinning like an idiot back home, then wrap in gaudy paper bought specially for the occasion - all the time wondering "Have I remembered everything? Will that six-foot turkey I was persuaded to buy actually fit in my oven? Was it Uncle Ted or Grandma who goes into anaphylactic shock at the mere sight of a pickled shrimp? 
Well call me a curmudgeon - call me anything you like ....

.... but I don't like Christmas and the peace and quiet of me own company (Enforced - I know)  is all the seasonal cheer I need right now.






Merry Xmas you curmudgeon. bye
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Merry Christmas Matey.

And I mean that most sincerely without any hint of irony.  


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Allright, you ol' Curmudgeon:

I still feel sad that a houseful of "wayward Yanks" (and Rebels) cannot be there to keep you in good spirits, bring you your meds and some "sipping whiskey" from time to time... in your hour of need. Methinks you put on a brave front... and that is a good thing... but I don't feel one bit guilty about worrying about my favorite singer.

Merry Christmas (or Happy Pagan Day) anyway!

More Hugs,

----Dave
Merry Christmas to all, curmudeons near and far!





Right, enough of all that, off down the pub.




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Gilly Slinn said...






Yup - The Slinn is temporarily buggered. A snivelling, wretched lump of assorted components lying on the garage floor, waiting for nature's mechanics to reassemble 'em into an approximation of a functioning human being again. Hopefully.

I must live exclusively upstairs for the time being - where me bed and bathroom are just a short shuffle from one another. Those kind people from the 'ospital brought me microwave, kettle. toaster and stuff up here and turned me spare bedroom into a temporary field-kitchen, having gone out and done a bit of grocery shopping for me. I bought a little table-top fridge to keep me vittles in - so I'm pretty self-contained up here. Okay - so it takes me an hour to get out of bed in the morning - my leg and back having apparently fused together overnight as I can only sleep on me beck -  and the previously simple effort of assuming an upright posture before launching meself towards me walking frame for a wee wee, wash and a mug of tea has become a task of Herculean proportions. So having completed that little marathon I reward meself with a big swig from a bottle of Oxycodone - a couple more in sustained release tablet form - and wait for 'em to kick in. Then, the pain having subsided - and very slightly stoned, I can think about some breakfast - more tea - another wee wee - then settle down for a day of doing bugger-all - previously my idea of Heaven - but now not so great after all. 
But then again - not that bad all things considered. There are far worse things in life - and po' J's sudden departure puts things in perspective. You never know what's round the next corner - we stumble blindly on and hope for the best. 
Time for another swig from me brown bottle.

Hope you all have a truly terrific Christmas - have an extra mince-pie/brussel sprout/ turkey sammie/glass of hooch for old Gilly eh?









Careful with the brown bottle, Missy.  You'll have to have enough for guests, after all...
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Gilly Slinn said...






Aw - shucks Dave - Christmas by myself with no obligation to appear jolly, merry - or busting with seasonal goodwill suits me down to the ground. I never liked Christmas - except when I was a child of course:  all that contrived sentimentality and obligatory seasonal indulgence on "treats" that we are told must be partaken at Christmas. I can eat assorted nuts, "Eat Me" dates, Melba Fruits and stodgy fruit cake any time of the year if I choose to ( i don't)  - why should I be obliged to eat ' em at this particular time of year?  "A time for peace and goodwill to all men"  - after which presumably normal services can be resumed and we can pick up our cudgels once more and  continue beating the shit out of one another.
Should one dare to express a distaste for the seasonal jollities you risk being portrayed as a mean-spirited curmudgeon (Scrooge, The Grinch et al)  who must be shown the error of your ways and  set upon the path to enlightenment either by supernatural intervention or a bunch of nauseating, syrupy characters of infinite goodliness - that either scare the crap out you or exert subtle mind- control until you are lobotomised into the Christmas Spirit and start waving your VISA card at every available retailer for pointless trinkets, baubles and bright shiny shite which you haul, grinning like an idiot back home, then wrap in gaudy paper bought specially for the occasion - all the time wondering "Have I remembered everything? Will that six-foot turkey I was persuaded to buy actually fit in my oven? Was it Uncle Ted or Grandma who goes into anaphylactic shock at the mere sight of a pickled shrimp? 
Well call me a curmudgeon - call me anything you like ....

.... but I don't like Christmas and the peace and quiet of me own company (Enforced - I know)  is all the seasonal cheer I need right now.






I'm telling Santa on you.

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This Sais it all
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