Butchered Sayings

[Silver Creek Slim]

Barkin' Spider= Phart

My Pa called it a "Muskie Snort". 

Slim

[Silver Creek Slim]

Anybody heard the term Barkin' Spider's??........Buck

Nope, but have heard about "barkin' squirrels".

I've done that a few times. A .25-06 at 20 yards does a good job. 

Slim

[Joyce (AnnieLee)]

Anybody heard the term Barkin' Spider's??........Buck

Only in the context of the Austrailian tarantula, and that wasn't a butchered saying, they really are called that.

Glad you aren't nekkid,

AnnieLee

[Advertising]

[Forty Rod]

Dell, if you had a warning tatooed on your butt you'd never know what it said.  YOU can't see it and NO ONE else is gonna look.

Elk snort!

[Forty Rod]

BACK TO THE ORIGINAL SUBJECT!!!

You old farts stop highjinxing my thread.

We have a four sloace tister in our kitchen.

[Four-Eyed Buck]

My wife and her sis are famous for getting words tangled up. One day when they were still at home, her Dad was boiling water for something and when the kettle started whistling, Susie popped off with "Hey, Dad! The hotters watt"! They still get their tongues tangled occassionally here..............Buck

[Joyce (AnnieLee)]

Barkin' Spider= Phart

My Pa called it a "Muskie Snort". 

Slim

One small detour...

OH, SLIM, and you were doing so very well with staying above it all, but no, you had to succumb.

<Sniffles> 

AnnieLee

[Four-Eyed Buck]

Boys will be boys, Annie............Buck

[Joyce (AnnieLee)]

One night a stranger walked into Murphy's and had a seat at the bar.

"I'm Frank Sloane," he introduced himself to Mike, the barkeep, "and I'll have a Sam Adams."

Mike poured him a tall one and Frank made himself at home.

About a half hour later, Frank pulled a small, stuffed teddy bear out of his jacket pocket and set the bear on the bar.
"What's that?" Asked Nick, who, up until then, had been talking to Frank about various ladies' promentary attributes.
"It's a bear," replied Frank with a smile. "And it's the fastest bear there is."
"Aw, it is not!" Exclaimed Nick. "It's a stuffed animal! Even Rob's turtle could beat that bear. Come're Rob!" Nick waved him over. "Show Frank the new guy here your world champion racing turtle!"

Rob happily complied and showed Frank his prize winning turtle, even flashing a few of Yerkle's ribbons.
"That's a nice turtle," Frank admitted, "but my bear is faster."
"IS NOT!" Roared Rob, "and I'll bet you twenty dollars my turtle can beat your bear!"
"Yer on!" Frank said, pulling out a stack of twenties. "And I'll bet any other taker that my bear can beat that turtle."

Well, then a crowd formed around the bar, the men bending to peer at the stuffed bear, grinning, then slapping a twenty on the bar. They all bet against Frank, that is, everone but Mike.

Mike set up a line of lettuce for the finish, about three feet from the start.

Clint started the timer, Rob released the turtle and they were off. The bear sat there, unmoving, glass eyes staring into nothingness. The turtle slowly began to crawl across the bar. The men cheered as the turtle caught wind of the lettuce and crawled faster. They were able to keep up their cheering for the next ten minutes as the turtle slowly moved closer to the finish line.

Then, just as the turtle was an inch away from crossing the line....

*****POOF*****

The bear disappeared from its spot on the bar and reappeared on the other side of the finish line!

The men hooted, they cat-called, they protested, but they paid up. Just as the crowd was dispersing, Nick turned to Mike.
"Hey, Mike, why didn't you bet on the turtle? What'd you know that we didn't?"

Mike polished a glass and smiled.
"Why, it was easy. Everyone knows that Sloane's teddy wins the race."


~~~~~~~~~~
With a prize to the person who knows where I got that,



AnnieLee

[Forty Rod]

Annie, Annie, Annie!

What am I gonna do with you?

That's a PUN!

SPOONERISMS RULE!!!

[Joyce (AnnieLee)]

Annie, Annie, Annie!

What am I gonna do with you?

That's a PUN!

SPOONERISMS RULE!!!

Oh, yer gonna love me and squeeze me and pet me and hug me,  Forty Fonzai, besides, the Tate thing was also a pun!

When I was growing up, my dad would call them "shaggy dog stories." Long and amusing tales that lulled the audience, then the painful zinger at the end. But does anyone know where I read that one?

Bred any good rooks lately?



AnnieLee

[Delmonico]

Not a butcher sayin' but a good one or two.

So dumb they couldn't pour pee out of a boot if the instuctions were on the bottom.

Rainin' harder than a cow peein' on a flat rock.

[Russ T Chambers]

One night a stranger walked into Murphy's and had a seat at the bar.

"I'm Frank Sloane," he introduced himself to Mike, the barkeep, "and I'll have a Sam Adams."

Mike poured him a tall one and Frank made himself at home.

About a half hour later, Frank pulled a small, stuffed teddy bear out of his jacket pocket and set the bear on the bar.
"What's that?" Asked Nick, who, up until then, had been talking to Frank about various ladies' promentary attributes.
"It's a bear," replied Frank with a smile. "And it's the fastest bear there is."
"Aw, it is not!" Exclaimed Nick. "It's a stuffed animal! Even Rob's turtle could beat that bear. Come're Rob!" Nick waved him over. "Show Frank the new guy here your world champion racing turtle!"

Rob happily complied and showed Frank his prize winning turtle, even flashing a few of Yerkle's ribbons.
"That's a nice turtle," Frank admitted, "but my bear is faster."
"IS NOT!" Roared Rob, "and I'll bet you twenty dollars my turtle can beat your bear!"
"Yer on!" Frank said, pulling out a stack of twenties. "And I'll bet any other taker that my bear can beat that turtle."

Well, then a crowd formed around the bar, the men bending to peer at the stuffed bear, grinning, then slapping a twenty on the bar. They all bet against Frank, that is, everone but Mike.

Mike set up a line of lettuce for the finish, about three feet from the start.

Clint started the timer, Rob released the turtle and they were off. The bear sat there, unmoving, glass eyes staring into nothingness. The turtle slowly began to crawl across the bar. The men cheered as the turtle caught wind of the lettuce and crawled faster. They were able to keep up their cheering for the next ten minutes as the turtle slowly moved closer to the finish line.

Then, just as the turtle was an inch away from crossing the line....

*****POOF*****

The bear disappeared from its spot on the bar and reappeared on the other side of the finish line!

The men hooted, they cat-called, they protested, but they paid up. Just as the crowd was dispersing, Nick turned to Mike.
"Hey, Mike, why didn't you bet on the turtle? What'd you know that we didn't?"

Mike polished a glass and smiled.
"Why, it was easy. Everyone knows that Sloane's teddy wins the race."


~~~~~~~~~~
With a prize to the person who knows where I got that,



AnnieLee

Isaac Asimov had a version of this, but I can't remember what book it was from.

[Joyce (AnnieLee)]

There are times when I think Isaac Asimov was the original bozo on the bus. Brilliant, prolific, and warped. I think the first version I read was by Spider Robinson in one of his Callahan books. Mine was from memory so I filled in the gaps. Here is the original, from the Doc himself:

As is well known, in this thirtieth century of ours, space travel is fearfully dull and time-consuming. In search of diversion, many crew Members defy the quarantine restrictions and pick up pets from the various habitable worlds they explore.

Jim Sloane had a rockette, which he called Teddy. It just sat there, looking like a rock, but sometimes it lifted a lower edge and sucked in powdered sugar. That was all it ate. No one ever saw it move, but every once in a while, it wasn't quite where people thought it was. There was a theory that it moved when no one was looking.

Bob Laverty had a heli-worm he called Dolly. It was green and carried on photosynthesis. Sometimes it moved to get into better light and when it did so it coiled its wormlike body and inched along very slowly like a turning helix.

One day, Jim Sloane challenged Bob Laverty to a race. " My Teddy," he said, "can beat your Dolly."

"Your Teddy," scoffed Laverty, "doesn't move."

"Bet!" said Sloane.

The whole crew got into the act. Even the captain risked half a credit. Everyone bet on Dolly. At least she moved.

Jim Sloane covered it all. He had been saving his salary through three trips and he put every millicredit of it on Teddy.

The race started at one end of the grand salon. At the other end, a heap of sugar had been placed for Teddy and a spotlight for Dolly. Dolly formed a coil at once and began to spiral its way very slowly toward the light. The watching crew cheered it on.

Teddy just sat there without budging.

"Sugar, Teddy, Sugar," said Sloane, pointing. Teddy did not move. It looked more like a rock than ever, but Sloane did not seem concerned.

Finally, when Dolly had spiraled halfway across the salon, Jim Sloane said casually to his rockette, "if you don't get out there, Teddy, I'm going to get a hammer and chip you into pebbles."

That was when people first discovered that rockettes could read minds. That was also when people first discovered that rockettes could teleport.

Sloane had no sooner made his threat when Teddy simply disappeared from his place and reappeared on top of the sugar.

Sloane won, of course, and he counted his winnings slowly and luxuriously.

Laverty said bitterly, "You knew the damn thing could teleport."

"No, I didn't," said Sloane, "but I knew he would win. It was a sure thing."

"How come?"

"It's an old saying everyone knows. ... Sloane's Teddy wins the race."

Name your prize, Russ T, if I can provide it, it's yours, along with a tip of the hat.



AnnieLee

[Capt. Hamp Cox]

Back in the days when folks still rode trains for long distance travel, there was a conductor on the MKT line between San Antonio and Fort Worth.  Every day for twenty years this pore ol' conductor had faithfully carried out his conductor duties without ever havin' no complaint filed 'gainst him.  When I say "pore ol' conductor", I mean he was so skinny and dried up a strong wind woulda blowed him away.  Why he looked like he been smokin' them Bull Durham cigs since he wuz six years old.  It just so happens that on one trip he had a passenger start ridin' the dickens outa him.  Started cussin' and callin' him names, an' finally throwed a drink on him.  The poor ol' conductor took out his handkerchief, wiped hisself off, and went on 'bout his bizness.  Next time this 'noxious feller comes back through the car, he spits on the pore ol' conductor.  Well now,  sumthin snapped in that pore ol' conductor's head an' he pulls out this ol' .44, and blows a hole clean thru that 'noxious feller and kills him deaderin' a hammer.  Make a long story short, that pore ol' conductor was arrested, tried, convicted of murder, an' sentenced to die in that brand new 'lectric chair thang up in Huntsville penitentiary.  Execution night,  that pore skinny wretch of a conductor is walked down death row to the "sittin'" room (if ya know what I mean), and strapped in that there 'lectric chair.  Executioner throws the switch and all the lights in that there penitentiary go dim.  Executioner checks that pore ol'  conductor's pulse, an' it be as strong as a mule's.  Executioner goes back and cranks up the voltage a bit, an' throws that there switch agin.  Lights all over Huntsville go dim.  Executioner checks our pore ol' conductor agin, and not only is the pulse still strong, that pore ol' condluctor is hummin' a tune.  Back at that there control panel, the executioner cranks the voltage all the way as high as it will go, an' throws the switch a third time.  All the lights in the entire state of Texas go dim.  Executioner is a mite skeerd to go check that pore ol' conducter fer fear he mite be all burned up or sumthin worse, but when he goes in there he finds that pore ol' conductor still hummin' that same tune.  Not knowin what else to do, the executioner takes that pore ol' conductor back to his cell, an fearin' he's gonna lose his job, sends word to the guvnor, tellin whut happened.  Guvnor caint believe it an' purt near burns up the road comin' to Huntsville to see for his ownself.  Shore nuff, there, in his death row cell, sits that pore ol' conductor readin' his Bible.  Guvnor says, "sir, can you tell me why we haven't been able to carry out your sentence of execution by electrocution?"  "Well, Sir," says the pore ol' conductor, "best I can figger, that there new fangled 'lectric chair ain't never gonna work on me".  "What in tarnation do you mean by that?" asked the Guvnor.  Don't you know this is the newest model, an' it cost the state a whole buncha money, an' it has always worked in the past?"  Condemned man scratched his ol' skinny head, and said "don't know much 'bout 'lectricity, Guvnor, but do you think mebby it won't work on me 'cuz I'm such a poor conductor?"

[Silver Creek Slim]

Barkin' Spider= Phart

My Pa called it a "Muskie Snort". 

Slim

One small detour...

OH, SLIM, and you were doing so very well with staying above it all, but no, you had to succumb.

<Sniffles> 

AnnieLee

It's Del's fault. His rubbin' off on me.

Slim

[Silver Creek Slim]

Good one. Capt. 

Slim

[Russ T Chambers]

Name your prize, Russ T, if I can provide it, it's yours, along with a tip of the hat.



AnnieLee


Been readin' Asimov, Heinlein, Bova, Herbert etc. since Junior High.  Can recite the three Laws of Robotics.   


A hat tip is just fine with me. 

[Forty Rod]

Niven!!

What about Niven?

What do a large southern California city and a toaster pastry on the beach have in common?
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.They are both Sandy Eggos.

HA!!!!

Ah, c'mon...it was better than that.  I could HEAR the groans from here.

[Silver Creek Slim]

Niven!!

What about Niven?

What do a large southern California city and a toaster pastry on the beach have in common?
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.They are both Sandy Eggos.

HA!!!!

Ah, c'mon...it was better than that.  I could HEAR the groans from here.

GROAN! 

Slim