Plurp: This Is A Bronx Bound 6 Train

Bigger!

2003.12.14 : 2003.12.20

Saturday, December 20, 2003
Blab. A reader asks two personal questions.
What exactly did Helen's nephew need help with? And where is the Blau Hund's newsletter?
Propriety prevents us from answering the former question. As to the latter, look here.

Plurp. Today, we say Henry IV (both parts, squished together) with Kevin Klein doing an amazing job as Falstaff. Then we went to the marvelous Big Fish with Albert Finney. We heartily recommend both productions and performances.
In particular, Tim Burton cements his place in contemporary society as its great modern mythologist. Simply wonderful.

Plurp.
The blue dog
was once a
giant named Carl

Friday, December 19, 2003
Blab. A reader complains about our weight.
Dunno about you, big fella, but it irks me when someone looks at my website then comments that I obviously have far too much time on my hands.
Suggestions, please, for what *those* people are doing in the weekly Monday night slot when I'm updating my site.
Heck, we find the irony most delicious.

Yow. Those wacky Circuit Court judges are at it again.
Two federal courts ruled that the U.S. military cannot deny prisoners access to lawyers or the American courts by detaining them indefinitely.
You know, that was always what we thought the Constitution said. But then, we're not a brilliant political leader and stuff.
We are surprised that it took them so long, though.

Plurp.
The blue dog
discovered an annual letter
hidden in the lining of
the velveteen jacket

Wednursday, December 17.5, 2003
Blab. A reader is easily impressed.
wow! two days in a row! I'm impressed.
That was probably written on Monday. We would guess.

Blab. We now entertain a number of reader contributions so old that we pretty much forget whatever context (if any) in which they were originally formulated.
For instance, an outcast from another dimension (which might have been GNE, but we don't quite remember any more) asks:
Disk?
Zackly.

Blab. Of our distasteful serving suggestion for sushi last week, a reader writes:

I really hope the bellybutton isn't yours. Or Helen's.
We promise that it is not ours.

Blab. A reader states a counterfactual.
You've shaved your beard...
Only once in the last thirty years. And it was traumatic.

Blab. On this week's Sunday Piture, a reader (perhaps like the just above reader?) writes:
Is that really S.H.? His beard is gray but his hair and eyebrows are not gray. He must have been using hair treatment in his "spider hole." Where are the gray roots in his 66 year-old mullet? Must be nice to be look 10 years younger after being in a hole for 10 months. Perhaps someone in their 50's should stay in a hole for 10 months to test this anti-aging technique. Steve?? Is that where you've been that last week?
I realize that some people tend to gray in a mosaic fashion, that is it's possible to have a gray beard and not have any gray hair on the head. Our leaders and media would never pull a fast one on us, never had, never will.
Peace
Yes, that's us.

Blab. Unsatisfied with merely playing that game from the other week, this reader insists on linking stuff.
Here's one for all the fans: Ann's Coulter
Enjoy.
We're sure you'll want this under your Festive Midwinter Tree.
Ann has the honor of having Talking Presidents’ first female Action Hero fashioned after her. The figure comes packaged in a clear front panel display box with biographical text and color photos of Ann decorating each side. [...]
Sample phrases the Ann Coulter Action Figure says on demand:
"Liberals can't just come out and say, they want to take more of our money, kill babies, and discriminate on the basis of race." [...]
Classic.

Blab. A reader taps the wonderful essence of bloggery.
some one has a bit too much time on their hands...
Clearly.

Blab. A reader insists that we do something with something.
Yes, the one word Helenism makes the grade. Add it.
We tried. The message returned was "The class Helenism does not support the method Add." Sorry.

Blab. A reader votes for something.
I vote for Mr. Menkin because, although he doesn't use colors as much as Mr. Ray or have Mr. Ray's psychoceramic credentials, he did once call me on the phone and personally insult me after I posted a link to his site. That's the kind of personalized service I want in a nutter.
Hey! We've never gotten calls from a nutter. Email, sure, but never phone calls.
We're so jealous.

Blab. A cognitively impaired reader writes:
Saeonss gertenigs to all who labour under the OMCL's of Plurp, and indeed to the Plurpmeister himslef. -AJL
Yes, we do run the Official Medicines Control Laboratories. We're so very busy.

Blab. Finally (in this series of mysterious, contextless contributions) is one for which we have no clue.
People love that sort of stuff. They read it and say, "That reminds me of Uncle Bob. That's what he does, he eats food."
See? No clue? Anyway ...
The blue dog coveted ... will three out of four work?
Yes. No. Maybe.
(That is, by the way, one of our very favorite lines from a movie, and definitely one of the sexiest..)

Blab. A reader seeks to circumvent our well-known volatility.
This possible Helenism is via my dad: A bird in the hand saves nine. I don't think it meets the requirements, but I will let you be the judge (less volatile that way).
What?! Let us be the judge? Whaddya mean? It's not like we have gobs of unclaimed time just sitting about, here and there, waiting to be used to figure out if your Helenism meets the requirements!
Sorry. Just violating your expectations.
Actually, it works for us. Congrats!

Blab. A reader pokes us in the eye with a ...
[link].
So the Farnsworth House was indeed sold at auction and fortunately, from our point of view, to a collection of preservationists who don't want to tear it down or move it elsewhere.

Sure, it's sweltering in the summer, and the bugs will eat you alive. But still. What a gorgeous place!

Blab. Seeing that we have one good eye left, a reader does this:
[link].
We suspect that there's something cool there, but it doesn't work on our PC, so, you know ...

Blab. A reader with a certain artistic flair sends us this.

Ho, ho ... um ... ho!

Blab. The pickle is hot.
Goooooooogle bomb! Have you seen my plurp?
No. Have you seen our Bush?
Go ahead, try it.
Type in "miserable failure" on the Google Web site [...].
We're feeling lucky.

Blab. A foot fetishist writes:
For Helen: Tokyo shoes.
We like the pink heels. With the leopard fur.
But that's us. We wonder what Helen would like to wear.

Blab. A reader seeks understanding. Curiously, she comes here.
I really want to understand your website, i really really do, but I can't, I am quite old, do you have to be younger or older? Why do you still use Times New Roman, it's so, well, passe. Kind regards.
Judith Heather
Yes, Judith, you have to be younger or older. And we don't still use Times New Roman. That's just the default font on your browser, which is so, well, passé.

Blab. One of our groupies abandons us for bluer climes.
blue dog, you are the cutest
Still, we would have to agree.

Plurp.
The blue dog
was soon to discover
that red velveteen
is a chick magnet

Tuesday, December 16, 2003
Blab. Here we are, still cleaning up the scummy pool of valuable reader contributions that accumulated around here after the drain plugged up. Today, we feature reactions to last week's Sunday Art.

best plurp ever. you finally got it right!
It sure took us a while, though, didn't it?

Blab. The rivulet of praise continues with this reader.
very fetching! Ia a burkka next?
Iä! Indeed. And, although we, too, would have put good money on that burkha thing, it turns out not to have been next. These things are so hard to predict!

Blab. A reader contributes a segue, of sorts.
My! You are fetching in that hood. I think I may have seen some of your early film work in Phantasm.
We are very proud of that role.

Blab. A reader loses all of its sanity points.
Gahhhh!! My Eyes!!! The horror..The horror...
Gibbering will get you nowhere.

Blab. Or perhaps, exuding visceral simplicity ...
aaaahhhhh!!!!!
We get that a lot.

Blab. Along similar lines, a reader almost rhymes.
GACK! Bring back Jacko
Oh, don't worry. He'll be back.

Blab. With that same thought in mind, a reader poses a riddle.
What did I say about scarring children?
- Felis Lynx
We give up.

Blab. An anxious reader writes:
Nice open-faced meatloaf dish. Where's the colgate smile? I can't wait to see next week's open-faced meatloaf dish.
Us neither!

Blab. A reader macerates many memes.
Good day Mr's Whtie,
How's ti hnagnig? Is taht an oepned faecd meatlaof dsih wtih a sied of myoa? Ok, mabyee not opende facde, but it's defniataly a maetloaf dsih, with a sedi fo moya.
Latre,
Traesrued Raedre
Wyh, yse, taht's ectaletxy waht it is.

Blab. Finally, a hopeful reader writes:
Yow! That's gotta be the end of the series now, though, eh? I mean...
Gosh, you would have thought so, wouldn't you?

Yo.
Rock star Ozzy Osbourne said he was "wiped out" on prescription medications when he gave his stupefied performances on his reality television show and in public, the Los Angeles Time reported Sunday.
In today's terminology, this is known as "news".

Plop. Some of you are wondering how low reality shows can go.
"The worst rumor I heard was about my mom and Paris ... that something happened between them sexually," he said. "That's not true."
The scale must be logarithmic.

Yo. We would call this a "game" but for the lack of rules, score, and any winning condition whatsoever. So we're forced to call it an "activity" and recommend that you amuse yourself with it for some finite duration of time. (/usr/bin/girl)

Plurp. Yes, you have been looking for stuff again. We asked you to stop. Several times. But do you listen? No.
This is from the week before last (we think; or maybe it was last week?).

gnurrs come from the voodvork out

big boobed gals

helen naked pitures

iris chacon

arnieboard2 exe

mia

angelina jolie

arnieboard

cyc

get an elephant in a refrigerator

We do note a preponderance of females in the search topics. This does not surprise us, though we are unable to articulate our reasoning.

Plurp. And this is from the other week that the other one wasn't from.

big boobed gals

iris chacon

j fred shirley harold

aaliyah

afghan girl

alien

anti stalker

arnieboard

art web bought

autism

Nice to see those gals get their due, isn't it?

Plurp.
The blue dog
couldn't remember anything
after that horrible accident
with the reindeer

Monday, December 15, 2003
Blab. So! It's been a long period of Utter Strangeness, of unbloggedness, of Mysterious Absences. We feel the need to explain ourself, to excuse ourself, to somehow atone for our violently asociality, to apologize abjectly for violating your unwarranted assumptions on our behavior.
So, naturally, we let our readers do our work for us.
I see you have gone into hibernation again. Very wise. Oh, and the picture this week definitely brings out your feminine side...
Hmm. Hibernation may be too optimistic a term for several months of five-hour-sleeps, of twelve-hour workdays, of professional and social madness, of arguing strategy, of grubbing for money, of impossible deadlines.
We are, however, pleased at your appreciation of last week's singular, feminine characterization of, well, whatever.

Blab. A reader posts a plausible, but wildly incorrect, theory.
Vacation again? Thanx for the warning.
Would that it were true!

Blab. Or, as another reader reassures us:
It's always the right time to scream.
- Felis Lynx
Zackly.

Blab. A particularly Treasured Reader expresses it thusly.
Oh dear Plurp where have you gone
We check in vain when we logon
Questing for blab, yak, or yo
Instead left wondering where'd you go?
We gnash our teeth and rant & rail
Alas it is to no avail
Still repeats the same old story
Steve is in the laboratory
Thinking of things scientific
Designed to make our lives terrific
But nothing in there could usurp
Our great desire for Dr. Plurp
Has a new entry been created?
I check again; not yet updated!
The only readers who come out victors
Are ones searching? helen naked pitures?
Waiting semi-patiently,
Loli
Would that we could have, instead, hidden ourself in a tiny spider hole, beneath a styrofoam cover, the focus of attention of hundreds of handsome young men in distant lands.
But no. We were simply ... busy.

Blab. Another Treasured Reader insists:
Please do not deviate from the established form. It's established, ain't it?
It is indeed. That's why we deviate from it, after all.

Blab. A New York reader writes:
have you seen my plurp? have you seen my plurp? have you seen my little plurp? oh have you seen my plurp?
Yeah, sweet cheeks, we got yer little plurp right here ...

Blab. A derivative reader writes:
Don't stop, Plurpster! Where will I surrogate blog if not here? You're going to force me to finally start my own blog, aren't you??!
Of course not. That would be anathema.

Blab. A sweet reader writes:
Yes, I still check here every day. Come back soon.
Aww! We are so sorry to disappoint you, dear reader. We shall endeavor to, well, do whatever it is that we do in the future.

Blab. A particularly perceptive reader writes:
Dr. Plurp needs to stay home and off that silly game so he can entertain us with Plurp.
And this is, in part, true! Our absence can be explained, in the sense that any bizarre event in the world today can be explained, by an unpleasant convolution of infinite demands at work, a desperate and largely unfulfilled desire for sleep, the outrageous social demands of pagan holidays and Anchorhead, which we played obsessively and, as usual, with the walkthrough in the background so as not to totally drive ourself mad trying to discover that HIT SHELL WITH TRIDENT is the guess-my-verb-phrase-o'-the-day.

Plurp. Lots on which to catch up, pretty much like every other part of our miserable life.
But not tonight. Maybe later. Or not.
Suffer.

Plurp.
The blue dog
didn't believe
that this was the
real Plurp

Sunday, December 14, 2003
Plurp.

Top

Earlier entries Later entries