List of Surnames Here I might list all of the family names and variations I've found while researching my family tree. Posted by St. Cuthwine Spencer on December 05, 2001 at 22:17:37:
XXXX day was fine here in Va., So what I wonder is...are the Yists (I assume the "Yacatizmae") still fending off XXXX day (A.K.A. "Snuff Porn Day" in the tropics and south of Mason-Dixon) Zist crunch slabs? How do all of the slabs feel about the resemblance between them and the monolith? And where can I find that shirt with L. H. Oswald getting shot by Ruby? Y'know...the one with L.H. holding the microphone and the cop with the guitar? Oh by the merrymeet...there HAVE been crop circles appearing in Va. this week...no shit.
Posted by Fnork de Sporg on December 05, 2001 at 23:25:13:
In Reply to: Xists posted by St. Cuthwine Spencer on December 05, 2001 at 22:17:37:
Oh by the merrymeet...there HAVE been crop circles appearing in Va. this week...no shit.
really, where at? And what kind of crop circles? The round ones, the geometric shapes, or the incomprehensible writing? The kind with bent or broken stems? The kind with gross cellular rupture or the kind the radiate deadly radiation and cosmic background radiation, the kind you only find at the very edges of the physical universe, where the glowing wave of tsunamian lifeforce still does battle with the unformed forces of the nonexistant pre-void? It wasn't that last kind was it? Have you ever noticed that a group of ultra-light glider planes, which have no engine and are invisible to radar, when trailing lights or long strings of lights and flying together in formation can accurately recreate almost any supposed ufo activity? They can form rings that anyone would mistake for a saucer, they can grow and shrink, suddenly dissapear or bud off baby lights. Did you know they do this on purpose and for fun, for nothing more than shits and giggles? Missles can't target them and airports can't track them, no one wil believe you when you see them, no one but members of a certain aviatory boys club, an unamed society of weekend warrior wannabe hobby-pilots, or so they would have you believe, but believe them not for the can not be trusted or believed. Why do they do these things? What is the connection with certain strange individuals who ply the forgotten C.B. wavelengths, insisting that they are inhuman martians with tentacles and three orange, dinner plate eyes, and relate the inconcistent, nonsense tales of how evil earth corporations are destroying their planets atmosphere and harvesting their sandworm females to build next generation microchips that will all be capable of independent thought and personality, a whole village of willfull paragmatists fighting for your time and and attention, living through you by proxy, slowly forcing you to fufill their sick, imhuman, perverted desires! What is their ultimate purpose, these preternatural trixters of they stratos? Who are their true masters?!
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