Suggestions for
VISITORS’ BOOK entries:
FLATTERIES:
Oh Payton, you are beyond compare!
Payton, I am in awe of your talent!
Mr Inkletter, when I grow up I want to be just like you.
After spending time at your site, I don’t want to visit anywhere else.
This visit has taught me more than I ever knew.
Mr Inkletter, I wish you lived in my town.
I can honestly say I am leaving your website full of inspiration and hope.
I never knew the human mind could achieve such heights.
BROWN NOSINGS:
Mr Inkletter, I wish you had been my teacher: I would have brought you the juiciest most sublime organic apple every day.
Payton, darling, I dream the most luscious dreams about you every night (females only).
Payton, you are a stuuurrrddd! (Females only.)
Payton, you hunk, you have ruined me for all other men (females only).
Mr Inkletter, I wish every one in the world was like you.
Mr Inkletter, I hang on your every word.
Mr Inkletter, you weren’t behind the door when they were handing out the brains, the looks, the wit, the charm, the sophistication, the humility, the sex appeal (females only), the generosity of spirit, the leadership, and every best quality a human can possess!
CRITICISMS:
Not enough norks.
VEILED INSULTS:
Mr Inkletter, it has taken me fifty long years to regain my faith in human nature, but it only took five minutes perusing your site to lose it all again.
However long you went to school Mr Inkletter, education can never be overdone, can it? You might consider night school.
INSULTS:
You are a loathsome bottom dweller!
I wouldn’t line my budgie cage with print-outs of your pages, and someone else would have to print them out, because I wouldn’t waste the ink or the paper.
Your wife obviously must have got you at The Reject Store, on a ninety per cent off day.
I showed my dog your website, and he pissed on the screen.
You are a disgrace to the human species, the koala species, all marsupials, actually, to all mammals, nay, to all life on planet Earth in fact!
My fit and healthy grandmother pleaded to be euthanased after finding your site.
I’d rather eat dog shit than spend ten seconds at Fool’s Paradise.
THREATS:
If I get my hands on you, I’ll tickle you till you cry.
I’ll have myxomatosis genetically engineered to infect koalas, and release it in Perth.
I’ll administer the Government Koala Treatment to one wild koala caught each day until you take your site down. (A heated pebble is inserted into the back passage of the koala and it is let go.)
230 comments:
«Oldest ‹Older 201 – 230 of 230Gladys: Sorry for the change in the comments display, but Blogger is now refusing to accept my attempts to change this Visitors' Book page's display to 300 comments per page, insisting on locking at my previous setting of 200, despite telling me 'changes saved' when I reset it to 300. Anyone who has read through my numerous posts at the Main Page these past two years will know I consider Blogger the most capricious piece of $@!**%%!#@* ever devised by a 'higher' life form.
You'll find the previous comments accessible through a piffling little link at the top and bottom of the comments section titled 'Newer' 'Newest' or 'Oldest' 'Older', so small they obviously don't want anyone to find them. Your comments are still there.
Now I'm not about to fall for the old 'give him an obvious option and then surprise him with the unusual' trick, regarding your 'MBE and OBE' honours offerings, so pray tell Gladys, what would my title actually be should I accept your chivalrous-related approaches?
Sounds like things are tough at present, Inky. I hope things will ease a little soon.
Blessings
Oh dear, Skippy taken a fancy to that mongrel koala?
Plus trouble with offers of viagra by the ton?
Well, you have written that no-no word where all may read — I have been told never to use the p word for cat. Innocent though it may be, evidently those so minded get visions of something other than one's pet who loves a cuddle. (And eats salmon not SPAM)
Seriously, sorry about your troubles, it must be dreadfully annoying.
Hope you are keeping well in spite of the aggro.
Hooch? And you are complaining?
Be sure your gins
will find you out!
(Or whatever you imbibe in - ale, strong tea, nettle wine, cocoa or whatever)
Take care, Bear, and watch out for that skippy sniffing around your person.
Gladys: 'mongrel koala'? Wow, now I'm a public mongrel, for now it's not just my wife calling me that!
And the Viagra and Cialis comments are still piling up over at my folder at 4shared.com, but the folk who run it are looking into ways to stop it for me. Meanwhile I've had to disable all comments; funny thing is, the comments are still arriving in the disabled condition, meaning I get to see them as the account holder; for example, one of my mp3 files, the Fool's Paradise Series description, now has over forty comments from the Viagra and Cialis brains trust, and accumulating, even though it is theoretically not possible to post comments any more!
Now Gladys, yes, you note correctly, I used the 'pussy' word in my heading for my 'ERDBERG: “What if Erwin Schrödinger's neither dead nor alive pussy had felt it had an itchy tail while waiting in that box?” muses Payton L. Inkletter' post over at 'In other news...', but then to the pure all things are pure, to quote my good friend Reeve Chocson.
And speaking of Reeve Chocson, he called in this afternoon with some Photoshop work he kindly did for me on some photos I took of myself and my alter ego, Payton the Koala Bear, producing a Wilson from Home Improvement like effect with my face, that is, where part of my face is hidden by props; Wilson of course usually had the fence covering the bottom half of his face when chatting to Tim 'The Tool Man' Taylor or his family. Reeve wanted confirmation from me that the rumours of my death from using his herbal hell blaster killer juice hooch were greatly exaggerated, but I put him right: I did die, last weekend, and came back, and now I'm on a third of his recommended dose until I toughen up.
Anyway, the bootylicious beaver left before the first hour was up (to take The Dear Leader here there and everywhere), and I had the most rare treat: three uninterrupted hours chatting with one of the greatest wittiest kindest gentlemen left on the face of the planet.
As for the skippy, that beautiful beast was at the Perth Zoo, and was most curious to have a koala at ground level; and never fear, my cousins have been crapping on those no-hoppers for millions of years.
A night worker (or night watcher?) needs his sleep. I guess just about everything is upside down in that strange land. Now will those hitters of willow get the ashes? Must switch on...
Hi
I have had trouble posting messages on PP lately. I hope this will be okay.
How's things down under?
I note the snazzy car - you driving it?
I note also that you saw a larger than life Skippy - do they ever attack? Or maybe they just ignore Koalas? (Even ones disguised as such.)
Sounds like you are still having problems sleeping and remain awake at night. Mm - you don't have an uncle called Dracular do you?
Such an interesting place this Phools Paradise — love to visit there, but the Internet is the next best thing. (We don't even travel out of the UK now!)
Take care over there
Eat well and sleep easy
Eat your greens
And don't get wheezy.
Gladys: That Renault Spider? No, cousin Stef was driving it, with Payton the Koala Bear balancing on the passenger side door.
And yes, you did notice in the previous header a kangaroo whispering sweet nothings into Payton the Koala Bear's ear, now to be found tucked away in the Header Archive. You ask do they ever attack?: yes, the males, called 'boomers', do attack, by rearing backwards upon their strong tail, and kicking with both feet; in fact, they can disembowel dogs with the powerful claw on their leading toe - I'll bet you wish you hadn't asked now; however, the females make great pets, especially when raised from joeys.
You've guessed rather correctly with your question 'Or maybe they just ignore Koalas?'; they have little to do with koalas simply because they each occupy different strata within the ecosphere: ground dwellers versus tree dwellers.
No, I don't have an uncle named Dracula, but I married his granddaughter.
I have to admit, negotiating Fools Paradise is a tricky business. I recommended the site to a friend of mine, at least I think he is a friend.
I told him that, like him, you engage in philosophical debate and enjoy these airy-fairy wranglings, which I find on his web site. Mind you, I think he is far more political, but let's face it, anyone can ask the impossible of politicians (the 'impossible' is what they specialise in not doing with jolly good avoidance tactics).
To get to the point, blunt though it may be, he did visit but found it too difficult to navigate around the site. Confusion having set in, he did not stay long in this paradise for seekers.
I guess you have to know what you are seeking - no I will correct that statement: you need an open mind in order to be surprised and astounded at the wisdom excreted from the bowels of a mere koala bear. For such astounding statements of life-enhancing proportions is rarely heard coming from the lips of even the most highly paid of roving political speakers (a certain British ex-minister comes to mind). Maybe they should adopt humility and learn lessons from a lowly Australian creature who has gained his wisdom the hard way. Living in trees and surviving bush fires is no mean achievement. Likely such a creature would be able to advise on certain other Bush fires (and how to survive them) still blazing around the world?
But, it seems to me, that if a mere old biddy can get from A to B (how-be-it using circuitous routes of such magnitude rarely encountered), so too should a male intellectual with a doctorate as proof of his his learning.
Gladys: As ever, your support of my efforts, or appearances of such efforts, at the Fool's Paradise - Infinity on a Shoestring cornucopia of sites, continues; methinks a degree of loyalty blindness might be creeping in, however, because your 'doctored' friend has got a point: my sites are higgledy-piggledy, or should I say oomphilly-boomphilly, and really need an organising and whip cracking webmaster who knows what he or she is doing.
Ah, yes, I just email off the day's content (better still, just record it by microphone, send the odd photograph or three), and have it appear transformed into a masterful visually E-ppealing complement to my stable of pages...
Now yet again a gem has come from your mind in the following form: "...you need an open mind in order to be surprised and astounded at the wisdom excreted from the bowels of a mere koala bear".
For the naïve, I'll decipher that: Payton is full of shit.
You know, PLI, when we were young, each time a horse dropped its precious 'load' in the road, my dad would give us sixpence to go out and collect it for the garden — precious stuff indeed. I only got sixpence for cleaning his boots each week. So don't knock it - shit from a koala of such distinction is precious indeed.
Now if PLI excrement can produce wiser wisdom than all politicians and thinkers put together, what indeed must come from his extraordinary speech?
We who sit at your feet, hopefully to imbibe your wise sayings, salute you! (While holding up an umbrella — to keep of the sun, I hastily add, lest I cause more accusations testing my loyalty.
Gladys: The kindness it continues...
The umbrella is wise, for three reasons: the fierce sunshine would fry your Pommie skin in minutes; I defecate while in the tree at whose base you would be sitting; and if I feel threatened I will urinate on you.
I am innocent of any unsavouriness regarding these latter two behaviours: they were inbuilt by the big marsupial in the sky.
Blow! I lost the comment I was making due to interruptions!
Now where was I?
Oh yes, You were blaming the one on high for your unfortunate habits. That is, unfortunate for those who got in the way while resting under a tree. Fortunate for you because it allows you a freedom not enjoyed by those of higher rank within the animal kingdom.
Have you not considered that learning to restrain those habits would allow you to rise above your present situation and take your rightful place within the higher echelons of academia?
Professor Payton L Inkletter, the first koala to be voted into the Aussie parliament (or whatever you call it down under) and likely to eventually be the Prime Minister? (Taking over from Kevin Michael Rudd?) At least they would have a man of State with ancestors going back further than any candidate for high office in the history of that proud island!
Yes indeed, it would be a good reason to fly to Australia. Not only witness the celebrations, but maybe shake your hand. Better still, sit in your armchair and chat to Mrs Inletter. How grand! How stimulating! How enlightening!
And finish the day with a BBQ where I could meet the eminent Chocsons.
Phew! I'm exhausted just thinking about it!
Gladys: 'Professor Payton L. Inkletter' does have a grand ring to it, I'll grant you that.
'Prime Minister Inkletter'? No, perhaps not.
'Governor General Inkletter'... maybe.
'Koala Laureate Payton L. Inkletter', now we're talking!
Koala Laureate?
So you think you are poet?
Pity you don't show it.
A line or two in verse -
To that I'm not adverse.
But it does not have to rhyme
Your lines are quite sublime
Though sometimes stinky poo -
The best that you can do
Is surely on a par
With Wordsworth that great star.
Gladys:
Oh dear me, I'm called upon to reply in verse,
in words neither harsh, condescending, nor terse;
I agree that gems in my verbiage abound,
while what I say takes the long way round;
But is my non-hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia such a curse?
A poet you are and most profound
In thought and word and melodic sound.
Surely no greater writer can be found
I bow before you till my nose hits the ground.
Gladys:
Commiserations dear loyal lady regarding your bruised proboscis,
Although I'm a remarkably handsome boy I'm not Hermaphroditus.
Words, granted, are my vital tools of trade,
Not merely trinkets with which to masquerade.
Yet the expectations bear heavy for me to produce a literary colossus.
Now just what are you suggesting with your new picture of koala, cat and bamboo shoot?
Payton does not look too happy!
Gladys: No doubt you refer to the current header-equivalent photo on three primary Fool's Paradise - Infinity on a Shoestring sites, under the moniker 'the art formerly known as 'Header' prints…'. (Future visitors will be sure to find it in the header's archive when it is replaced by another, and will know they've found the one to which the good lass Gladys refers, when they behold a tabby cat chewing the end of a dead bamboo shoot.)
As to what I'm suggesting, I plead innocence. The eye of the beholder…
Are, well, if the end is dead I expect that makes it all right to chew. Then why does Koala look scared? Afraid of the same treatment? Maybe this should be reported ?
(disallowed blood sports)
Gladys: Actually, Payton the koala bear is scared in that photo, and I commend you for noting this, given the fact that his facial expressions only move by the tiniest of nuances.
Fortunately, Cadbury the Celestial Kitty, aka Cadbury C.K. Inkletter, is so well fed that she was not interested in eating Payton, only in making mischief with the bamboo shoot.
If you look carefully, you will see that her belly fur has been shaved for her hysterectomy some 16 days before this picture.
No wonder the poor kitten wanted revenge!
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