9th Corps

[notinKansasanymore]

Right now, it's 12 to nothing; Okla. over Texas. I'm stuck listening to it on the radio; can't go to the sports grill; one of the little ones is asleep upstairs with a cold.

Go, Oklahoma!

(sorry, TommyStrangeLove!)

I'm supposed to be grading papers while listening. Instead, I'm posting at the Greasespot. Back to the salt mines . . ..)

[excathedra]

hi my loves

[Tom Strange]

that's okay my niKa... I like the present sooners much better than the present horns... because I think Stoops is a good human man... the talk down here is that m brown is not such a fine human man and coddles his boys and that they always get uptight and freak when they play the soonies... it's hard to argue with, they seem to do OK otherwise...

ourseestorEx's little mac likes him some longhorn though... although I think it is just the insignia he likes moreso than the actual team...

how are you all mahpeepull? ...I am apologetic for not stopping by this past little while... glad to hear everything worked out so well with the young shipper, so much so that the old dude just left the hemisphere... now, if it would just stop raining here... I feel like I'm in Florida...!

visualize whirrled peas... ah... now on to the league champeenships!

my love to all...

[fellowshipper]

This weekend we went to a church camp on the great ocean road which gave me ample time to recover from jet lag. Today we drove down to Rye beach, gunnamatta and portsea then up the beach road back to Melbourne to see the Spirit of Tasmania at dock before leaving at six tonight. I have not only been here for a week and seems I have been here for a month with all of the sights to see. I will be thinking of all of you while on holiday. Yeah Right!!!

[notinKansasanymore]

Fellowshipper, you make me jealous! TommyStrangeLove, the league championsheeps of what? Exie, love to you! Simon, where art thou?

Grading papers, must not look up; grading papers, must not look up . . ..

[simonzelotes]

Uhh,Nika,sweetie,thanks for asking,but let me 'splain something to you Sooners who may be under the impression that the only religion God created is played on Saturdays with an oblong shaped ball that bounces real funny....

There is another sport,or religion,as some of us so affectionately think of it as,where a guy throws the ball as hard as he can to another guy who tries to whack it as hard as he can with a stick,or "bat" as usually referred to,while 8 other guys stand there scratching their privates and picking their noses and thinking about their girlfriends wait and wait and wait for the slim chance that the whacker with the stick might actually hit the ball in their direction,in which case they will try to "snag" the ball with their glove and record a "putout",which is a good thing for the guy thinking about his girlfriend,but bad for the guy who simply wants to whack the ball and then come "home"....It's called "baseball", or "beezbowl" if your name is Chico Esquala,and the league Championships are what Tom Strangelove are talking about...

[excathedra]

Tie me kangaroo down sport

Tie me kangaroo down

Tie me kangaroo down sport

Tie me kangaroo down

Bury me head when I'm dead,Fred

Bury me head when I'm dead

And they tanned his hide when he died,Clyde

Tie me kangaroo down

ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha

you guys are THE BEST

let's make popcorn and play

in his service,

excathedra

[excathedra]

hey fellowspirit of tasmania, they got the baseball channel over there ?

[simonzelotes]

Well,I'd love to stay and play,but I've got a twig coordinator's meeting to go to ,then an hour of power and some chaff to burn,people to do,places to go,knowles to breathe,verses to retemorize,food to eat etiquettely,the Return to hope for,believing to build,cares to cast,spirits to cast out and a Sunday Service to usher...Peace and Safety...

[excathedra]

simon you are the funniest....er in the universe

[tomtuttle]

And lets not forget to lift the lift list along with those apes & peacocks.

[excathedra]

that's all i do, is lift my list lift, tuttley

[simonzelotes]

Thank you Excie,but I am believing for you to get saved and speak in a new tongue and quit your cussin' and swearin' and raisin' hell....

[excathedra]

in my next life simon

[notinKansasanymore]

Thinking about Fellowshipper, down under! I found something on the internet. Many of you may have seen the movie(s); here's the poem.

The Man From Snowy River

By Andrew Barton 'Banjo' Paterson

"The violent take it by force."

~ Matthew 11:12 ~

There was movement at the station, for the word had passed around

That the colt from old Regret had got away,

And had joined the wild bush horses -- he was worth a thousand pound,

So all the cracks had gathered to the fray.

All the tried and noted riders from the stations near and far

Had mustered at the homestead overnight,

For the bushmen love hard riding where the wild bush horses are,

And the stock-horse snuffs the battle with delight.

There was Harrison, who made his pile when Pardon won the cup,

The old man with his hair as white as snow;

But few could ride beside him when his blood was fairly up --

He would go wherever horse and man could go.

And Clancy of the Overflow came down to lend a hand,

No better horseman ever held the reins;

For never horse could throw him while the saddle-girths would stand,

He learnt to ride while droving on the plains.

And one was there, a stripling on a small and weedy beast,

He was something like a racehorse undersized,

With a touch of Timor pony -- three parts thoroughbred at least --

And such as are by mountain horsemen prized.

He was hard and tough and wiry -- just the sort that won't say die --

There was courage in his quick impatient tread;

And he bore the badge of gameness in his bright and fiery eye,

And the proud and lofty carriage of his head.

But still so slight and weedy, one would doubt his power to stay,

And the old man said, `That horse will never do

For a long and tiring gallop -- lad, you'd better stop away,

Those hills are far too rough for such as you.'

So he waited sad and wistful -- only Clancy stood his friend --

`I think we ought to let him come,' he said;

`I warrant he'll be with us when he's wanted at the end,

For both his horse and he are mountain bred.

`He hails from Snowy River, up by Kosciusko's side,

Where the hills are twice as steep and twice as rough,

Where a horse's hoofs strike firelight from the flint stones every stride,

The man that holds his own is good enough.

And the Snowy River riders on the mountains make their home,

Where the river runs those giant hills between;

I have seen full many horsemen since I first commenced to roam,

But nowhere yet such horsemen have I seen.'

So he went -- they found the horses by the big mimosa clump --

They raced away towards the mountain's brow,

And the old man gave his orders, `Boys, go at them from the jump,

No use to try for fancy riding now.

And, Clancy, you must wheel them, try and wheel them to the right.

Ride boldly, lad, and never fear the spills,

For never yet was rider that could keep the mob in sight,

If once they gain the shelter of those hills.'

So Clancy rode to wheel them -- he was racing on the wing

Where the best and boldest riders take their place,

And he raced his stock-horse past them, and he made the ranges ring

With the stockwhip, as he met them face to face.

Then they halted for a moment, while he swung the dreaded lash,

But they saw their well-loved mountain full in view,

And they charged beneath the stockwhip with a sharp and sudden dash,

And off into the mountain scrub they flew.

Then fast the horsemen followed, where the gorges deep and black

Resounded to the thunder of their tread,

And the stockwhips woke the echoes, and they fiercely answered back

From cliffs and crags that beetled overhead.

And upward, ever upward, the wild horses held their way,

Where mountain ash and kurrajong grew wide;

And the old man muttered fiercely, `We may bid the mob good day,

NO man can hold them down the other side.'

When they reached the mountain's summit, even Clancy took a pull,

It well might make the boldest hold their breath,

The wild hop scrub grew thickly, and the hidden ground was full

Of wombat holes, and any slip was death.

But the man from Snowy River let the pony have his head,

And he swung his stockwhip round and gave a cheer,

And he raced him down the mountain like a torrent down its bed,

While the others stood and watched in very fear.

He sent the flint stones flying, but the pony kept his feet,

He cleared the fallen timber in his stride,

And the man from Snowy River never shifted in his seat --

It was grand to see that mountain horseman ride.

Through the stringy barks and saplings, on the rough and broken ground,

Down the hillside at a racing pace he went;

And he never drew the bridle till he landed safe and sound,

At the bottom of that terrible descent.

He was right among the horses as they climbed the further hill,

And the watchers on the mountain standing mute,

Saw him ply the stockwhip fiercely, he was right among them still,

As he raced across the clearing in pursuit.

Then they lost him for a moment, where two mountain gullies met

In the ranges, but a final glimpse reveals

On a dim and distant hillside the wild horses racing yet,

With the man from Snowy River at their heels.

And he ran them single-handed till their sides were white with foam.

He followed like a bloodhound on their track,

Till they halted cowed and beaten, then he turned their heads for home,

And alone and unassisted brought them back.

But his hardy mountain pony he could scarcely raise a trot,

He was blood from hip to shoulder from the spur;

But his pluck was still undaunted, and his courage fiery hot,

For never yet was mountain horse a cur.

And down by Kosciusko, where the pine-clad ridges raise

Their torn and rugged battlements on high,

Where the air is clear as crystal, and the white stars fairly blaze

At midnight in the cold and frosty sky,

And where around the Overflow the reedbeds sweep and sway

To the breezes, and the rolling plains are wide,

The man from Snowy River is a household word to-day,

And the stockmen tell the story of his ride.

[fellowshipper]

Thank you Dorothy, thank you Rhoda.

[excathedra]

you're welcome

[igotout]

Sorry to interrupt, but can someone lead me into spanking in tongues?

I heard this is the place to learn about it.

[notinKansasanymore]

I may just have to mull that one over, over the weekend.

We play K-state; I hope they get spanked.

[fellowshipper]

Has this site turned into an S&M session? Ahh, variety is the spice of life.

[simonzelotes]

Sure,John...We'll just have an excellor session where you practice by spanking your monkey until you get real good and fluent at it....

Ewww-ewww-ewww-ewwww-ahhh-ahhhh-ahhhh

[tomtuttle]

It's a disgrace, for me, to have been, in this fellowship, this morning ...

Me son started walking out and said, "Dad, I can't stand it any more.

I thought to myself, "Why, my son's got more sense than I do.".

And just about that time, the dinner was being pulled out of the oven ...

[notinKansasanymore]

Out of the mouths of babes . . ..

:o-->

[notinKansasanymore]

So, yesterday my children came home from school with a note that since it's Red Ribbon Week (wherein kids promise that they won't do drugs), today would be Crazy Hat Day.

I looked at my son (who's 7) and said, "We have to go to Walmart."

"Why?" he asked.

"Gotta have a rubber chicken," I replied.

I mean, how often does a person get to make a hat with a rubber chicken on it? We only live once, after all.

In the end, it had the aforementioned elastic fowl, stretchy rubber frogs and lizards, a rubber caterpillar, and a little hat for the chicken, which had a little stretchy rubber lizard on it.

My daughter (who's 5) wore a flowery concoction on which pranced two My Little Pony figures, of course with one of the ponies wearing a little hat with a flower on it.

And me? I'm sitting here at work, waiting for students to come to my office hours.

There's a rubber chicken on my monitor, standing guard.

The chicken has a very, very serious look on its face.

[simonzelotes]

Nika,there's something blissful about you're little world...