It was the "K" which threw me off.

Rascallion it is, then!

Hey, Doug, it's like IM (Instant Messagin) as I had justed posted that note. Wow! Hey I still need you to contact me at clmi9901@msn.com.

Thanks in advance. And you mustered out! Wow!

quote:

Originally posted by biplane1:
Hey, Doug, it's like IM (Instant Messagin) as I had justed posted that note. Wow! Hey I still need you to contact me at clmi9901@msn.com.

Thanks in advance. And you mustered out! Wow!

Messagin'? Are you from the south?

Justed is a good word.

Still contact you? I didn't know I needed to contact you in the first place. Contactin'.

Mustered? No thanks - I'm a ketchup man myself (don't like mayonnaise, either).

Doug Spaulding always cuts the mustered.

I said it before and I'll say it again - you witty British!

Doug, what can I say! When you're typin' at 200 words per minute, invariably, there will errors, and you have found mine.

I, inadvertently, vacated your phone numbers from my cell phone and wished that you email me with your home and email numbers and I promise that I will never, never, call you at 3:00 AM. My email is: clmi9901@msn.com.

And I think you know what I am referring to when I say "muster". It's just that I didn't know that you had been so "short."

quote:

Originally posted by biplane1:
Doug, what can I say! When you're typin' at 200 words per minute, invariably, there will errors, and you have found mine.

I, inadvertently, vacated your phone numbers from my cell phone and wished that you email me with your home and email numbers and I promise that I will never, never, call you at 3:00 AM. My email is: clmi9901@msn.com.

And I think you know what I am referring to when I say "muster". It's just that I didn't know that you had been so "short."

200! Speedy, no?

Vacated, eh? Well, let's replenish then.

It's a good thing you didn't ring me at 3 AM this morning, as I was abed - I retired at 2.51 AM.

Short? Sixty-nine inches, surely.

Mog the Dog here.

It's impossible, even for a 42-year-old toy brindle dog, to lie still for keeps, so I'm up and about here reading The Emissary in the first hours of the last week of my waiting on a watermelon.

MTD
Just shy of full moonlight, just shy of the soul's midnight.

Sorry to muscle in on your act, Mog, but melons aren't the only fruit...

For tomatophiles who missed my earlier offering, here's Fido waiting on a tomato 4th August.

Diameter: 0.5 inches
Circumference: 1.57 inches
Weight: 0.5 oz

Beat that!

Hi Fido the Dog. Mog the Dog here.

I did see your "waiting on a tomato" picture last week, but I've not seen any updates. Those little cuties must have grown to the size of a chicken egg or bigger by now, huh?

The fruits of my tomato plants can never compete when measuring diameter, circumference, and weight. Instead, they've sought to reign triumphant in prodigious numbers.

It's a tomato jungle out there in this neck-o-the-woods these days...

MTD

Might those be Cherry Tomatoes?

They ain't beefsteaks!

Mog the Dog here.

My favorite human companion, the one who types for me on this forum, was supposed to have been born on this day in 1963, but she somehow managed to stave off, for four more precious days, the inevitable horror of being forcibly squeezed through what felt like a life-sized mass of bloody raw muscle meat that had been heated up to precisely 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit.

Like Bradbury, my favorite human companion remembers being born. No one believes her, but that fact does not diminish the experience; rather, it adds to the cold heartless feel of the world into which she was extruded.

When anticipating the impending birth of a child, everyone imagines the parturition from the mother's vantage point. "See that watermelon growing in the field over there? Yeah, that one, the one the toy dog is waiting on. Try pushing that thing out through that tiny little hole down there..." Indeed, most people can imagine the fear and apprehension of the mother.

Virtually everyone claims to have forgotten being the watermelon, though. I wonder why.

MTD

quote:

Originally posted by MogtheDog:
...the inevitable horror of being forcibly squeezed through what felt like a life-sized mass of bloody raw muscle meat...

Eewww!!!

The very basis of The Small Assassin!