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@Crossover: Happy New Year! @Jebediah: the Bray timelapse is awesome. Your friend's screensaver is just wrong. @SunflowerSpright: hope the baby is okay and you can visit the folks and le middle child.
 

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@Crossover: Glitchin' here too. Your cats are awesome.
 

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Random guess: Bowers?

My great-great-great-great-great grandmother's name was Isabelle O'Connor. Family legend has it that she ran away from home (Cork), hopped a ship for the Americas, and ended up in Indiana. Supposedly she came from a very wealthy family but turned her back on all of it to become a Hoosier* farm wife.

*Hoosier: anything or anybody from Indiana. Translation provided for our Irish friend.
I imagine it had been raining for ten years straight and she thought "fuck this".

Jeb, you did that??? I'm quite impressed, good job :) Beautiful too.
I don't fuck around when it comes to time lapse. :wink:

That's really cool.

What's NOT cool is a Gaelic wedding without bagpipes.
Or at least three fights. :laughing:

So what exactly does Swamp Thing's ballsack smell like? And how do you know?
Summer, 2009. We'd had reports of large creatures wandering around the swamps of Louisiana, staring in the windows of nearby residents and scaring the shit out of them. We knew it had to be him so we went in. We were going to catch Bigfoot. After weeks of boat operations that gave us no results we decided to set up camp beside the houses in the area and catch him when he decided to stop by for another stare.

It was my third night on solo operations when Death Machine (one of the other hunters, nice lad) radios in to tell me he just chased something off some land half a mile from my location. "I thought I had him but he just seemed to disappear. I think he's heading right your way, Jeb." I got ready.

An hour goes by. Nothing. Two hours. Nothing. The third hour rolled in when it happened. I suddenly became aware of a terrible, terrible odour coming from right behind me. Fuck, I think, he got behind me and I didn't even hear it. I turn around to acknowledge his presence, I've already dropped my gun because I don't want him to see it, get spooked, and then rip my limbs from my body. Sasquatch are just like Gorillas, stay low and avoid eye contact and they'll leave you alone. Instead of the Sasquatch I was expecting I'm facing what can only be described as an 8 foot tall lettuce man. The eyes scare me. This heap of vegetables has eyes.

I began to cough from the strong smell, it just gets worse and worse. I hear a noise that sounds like wind blowing through leaves and when I look up again I realise it's coming from this Thing. This Swamp Thing is laughing at me. I watch in horror as he reaches down towards his genital regions and start to rub himself. Oh shit, I realise, it's getting itself ready. He wants to do the nasty with me. I slowly reach for the gun with every intention to use it on myself, so that I am not of this world when the creature has it's fun with me. My fingers are touching the butt when it takes a hold of me, the gun slips away from my grip. It has me in a headlock when it smothers my face with the hand it used to play with itself. My eyes water and I black out...

Death Machine would find me unconscious twelve hours later but I would not wake up for another two days. "It left a note," Death Machine tells me. He hands me a small piece of paper and leaves the room. I stare at the paper for what seems like hours before finally opening it. There upon the page, in a very neat hand is the following:

"Made you smell my balls. LOL!"

Fuck you, Swamp Thing. Fuck you.

Yes, @Jebediah, inquiring minds want to know :laughing:
See above.
 

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@Jebediah: and that, my friend, is why you shouldn't drink skunky beer. The smell attracts them. It's like an aphrodisiac to swamp creatures. I'm surprised nothing's climbed out of the Irish bogs to stalk you.
 

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WP_20130915_001.jpg
I present to you, the hot press. The tank on the left makes everything really warm. That's what I put my shoes on to dry them. There's shelves above this where all the towels go.


@Jebediah: and that, my friend, is why you shouldn't drink skunky beer. The smell attracts them. It's like an aphrodisiac to swamp creatures. I'm surprised nothing's climbed out of the Irish bogs to stalk you.
We have bog monsters, they're called Culchies. :laughing:
Culchie - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
 

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Rather nervous about tomorrow, since I have an endoscopy. I hope nothing serious. So any spare hugs or prayers would be most appreciated. :sad:
Lots of hugs and positive thoughts your way friend.
 
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For those that can't look away...

 

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I present to you, the hot press. The tank on the left makes everything really warm. That's what I put my shoes on to dry them. There's shelves above this where all the towels go.




We have bog monsters, they're called Culchies. :laughing:
Culchie - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
I adore international interaction! But I think you missed your calling Jeb, you should write horror erotica (bwahahahaha)

Visit with the 'rents was okey-dokey. Fixed all of the computer things they manage to break between each of my visits. How they do these things is a mystery to me, really. Fixed Mom's tablet - she wanted Audio Books installed. Stepdad had his browser to full screen mode and it was horrific to work with, got that remedied. Then he had broken the sound on Merriam-Webster's etymology section; got that fixed. Got Mom's plug-ins updated on her laptop as well. So they fed me and gave me a glass of wine before I went on my way. Oh, also moved furniture for them.

Then it was on to le middle child's place and got to see both babies. Elijah is teething so I lent him my knuckles for a while and was rewarded with droolimg. toothless grins and coos. Hard to believe he'll be six months old next month and Emanuel will be two. Time flies!

Congrats @Mschievious on 1K posts!

So now it's time to either engage my brain...or numb it, jury is out still on which :)
 
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