WHOLESOME TALES

What? But its lovely in summer.
The haggis hair blowing in the wind (we call them baw-hairs, they're all the same length so you can use them to measure with) the bristles to stroke. And a billion midges eating you in the drizzle. What more could you ask for?

Well, when you put it like that, Petty.... Oh is that really the time! Better head off.... work, you know....

someone here is (awefully flattered ofcourse) under the impression that I am a lady, so I supposed I shouldn't admit that I really found that story.. fascinating .

Spoiler:

my response to that gif

Orwell wrote:Well, when you put it like that, Petty.... Oh is that really the time! Better head off.... work, you know....

work you say....

Ally why is your response in spoiler bars and why is it empty? has it been removed?

Don't want to annoy people with the sound that starts up (it works for me, but it takes a few moments to get started for some reason )

oh, it worked. it was very disturbing.

I thought it was pretty great.

Have you ever seen The Matrix, Norc?

.....no.. but I know Elrond's in it.

IMO it's pretty overrated (but don't tell GB I said that!) but it's fairly entertaining. I still can't unsee Agent Smith from Hugo Weaving's portrayal of Elrond though. I think he played them too similar, though there are obvious differences.



I should note that I loved Weaving in The Matrix, though. So deliciously evil.

Norc was talking about the cat, I think

I was talking about the cat, until Eldo mention the Matrix, he's the one who changed the subject.

I thought the first Matrix was entertaining- bunch of old ideas cobbled together, bit stretched ideas wise and for me a cop out in the story in the end. But entertaining nonsense.
The next two took themselves way to seriously for that sort of thing and disappeared up their own arses however.

Norc wrote:I was talking about the cat, until Eldo mention the Matrix, he's the one who changed the subject.

I was confused; I had just watched the video in Ally's spoiler bar signature and thought that was what Norc was referring to.

That cat is pretty creepy though.

Eldorion wrote:IMO it's pretty overrated (but don't tell GB I said that!) but it's fairly entertaining. I still can't unsee Agent Smith from Hugo Weaving's portrayal of Elrond though. I think he played them too similar, though there are obvious differences.



I should note that I loved Weaving in The Matrix, though. So deliciously evil.

I so agree. (Remember back in the days when I had "Dark Planet Ambassador. We're not so bad once you get to know us." in my siggy?)
I loved the first Matrix, the other two... I was very disappointed.

I do remember that. And I enjoyed the first Matrix well enough, but the second one left such a bad taste in my mouth that despite GB's best efforts I still haven't gotten around to watching #3 years later...

Eldorion wrote:

Norc wrote:I was talking about the cat, until Eldo mention the Matrix, he's the one who changed the subject.

I was confused; I had just watched the video in Ally's spoiler bar signature and thought that was what Norc was referring to.

That cat is pretty creepy though.

I talked about that too... maybe I should have watched it longer...

What has anything to do with Wholesome Taling?

Just got a telling off from Odo for saying this is the greatest ever dylan song

Hang on
Is that a monkey face or a surprised face?

THE TALE OF THE NEEDLEHOLE BARD

Once there was an odd thinking hobbit. "Queer", the reed cutters of Rushock Bog murmurred, and thought he might be a hobbitosexual. You see, he played the four string bottlebodied lute, and sang... And he did not sing the traditional tunes of Forumshire, no - but the tunes and words of his own making. Luckilly, he lived in Rushock Bog and his reputation - poor as it was - was contained there.

But...

One day when the world was still green, with some streaky brown parts and a few splotches of blue, a fine gentlehobbit, Gorbadoc Banks by name, came down to Rushock Bog - a plantation he purchased in '67 - and he chanced to hear this queer hobbit singing upon a hillock above a muddy pool.

"Olivina
I do perambulate her
her hairy part
high above her painted toes
and legs like roads
northward bound
I would go
if only she didn't
frown so!"

Thiis was the refrain ol' Gorbadoc overheard as he was whipping his cart-hobbits as firmly and as steadily as could be along the bumpy marshy road.

"What! Is that an absolutely hideous and totally inane but sensual song I hear - in A minor? It's just the sort of novelty the hobbits of Needlehole - or at least it's pipeweeded youth - would pay good coin for the hearing of!"

And so Gorbadoc hauled in his cart-hobbits - who puffed and panted in their harness glad of the rest - and he cried up the hillock: "Hey you pathetic oaf... Yes, you on the hillock there! Would you perhaps like to earn a fair and reasonable wage performing your tunes in the Market Square of Needlehole after the pubs close?

"I would, Sir, if it meant I could eat something other than sorrel and swamp crabbitweed."

"What is your name, good hobbit?"

"Willin Bob!"

"Well, Willin Bob, you are now Bob Willin. And I'm assuming you are willin to sell your soul and all your creative freedom to Morgoth for the price of a fresh loaf and a half-tankard of buckie."

"I am indeed, as all bards are willin to do, with only the truly lazy and untalented claiming otherwise!"

And so it was that Gorbadoc tied a rope to Bob and dragged him stumbling up to Needlehole - a long rope, as Bob did smell severely.


TO BE CONTINUED

Despite myself (and past excperiences reading the Bugle) I am intrigued.

THE TALE OF THE NEEDLEHOLE BARD

continued...

Gorbadoc Banks saw to it that Bob Willin was chained to a post in the Needlehole Town Square come midnight with a small pot for drinks, and a large pot for coins.

"Sing, my good hobbit, Sing!" Gorbadoc told him that first night as he left Bob in the protective company of twelve squat Wartgoblins (from Rhúne), each bearing a big brass needleheaded Headcalobberer.

And that's wat Bob did, all the night, every night. And the miscreants, drunks and drug abusers (the idle young) frolicked there, dancing and singing along to his songs, which they didn't know the words of and didn't care they didn't. And they dropped coin after coin into Bob's pot, which Gorbadoc saw emptied regularly by a swarthy chap (Pedro the Chief Wartgoblin), who (it's said) was actually half bandersnatch and half Wartgoblin and may have been Scottish.

Gorbadoc thought he had discovered a gold mine, and was very pleased, but gold attracts trouble, as we all know, or at least I do.

Far, far, far in the North West a particularly vile dragon, by name Smug the Dreary, heard of Bob Willin's (Gorbadoc's) pot, and he thought, "I should like to take that pot (and Bob Willin) and thereby start a small Street Entertainment Company and later branch out into Musicals, maybe even Operas when I get rich enough to hobnob."

And so, spreading his goassamer wings, he hurtled into the air and flew like a dart across Forumshire - the Wildlands, The Mildlands and the Vegielands - and descended on Needlehole - around the time Bob was playing his Desperado Time of The Night set to a group of naked chorusing cavorters (mostly the uglier of the Needleholians and most of the Scotshobbit Share Farmers of Rushock Bog).

Bob was singing his latest hit MOO GLOO:

"Oh dee dee diddly doo doo,
I'll make me own gloo-hoo,
To stick heels upon me shooo-hoos,
And udders in the moo-hoo..."

A rather intense ballad which, while on the surface inane, ran far more deeply if you were on the stronger drugs - like all great Poetry does (it's said).

"Oh my goodness!" Bob said and stopped luting. "Is that the sound of powerful swishing wings a'coming upon the starry night of Mid-Summer? ---- and it was!


TO BE CONTINUED