worst thread ever - no seriously...EVER

[Hey Ladi]

Welcome to the Horatio Alger Society

Our purpose: To further the philosophy of Horatio Alger, Jr. and to encourage the spirit of Strive and Succeed that for half of a century guided Alger's undaunted heroes - lads whose struggles epitomized the great American dream and inspired hero ideals in countless millions of young Americans.


I don't think this is helping me much

Main Entry: atavism
Pronunciation: 'a-t&-"vi-z&m
Function: noun
Date: 1833
1 a : recurrence in an organism of a trait or character typical of an ancestral form and usually due to genetic recombination
b : recurrence of or reversion to a past style, manner, outlook, or approach <architectural atavism>
2 : one that manifests atavism : THROWBACK

[Maynard]

This might just be the worst thread I've ever seen.



Then again....it could be the best.

[Hey Ladi]

:fuggin: he he

so I smoked, showed myself a good time, did some yoga, and now I feel fiiiiiiine

although I do think I almost passed out before, I'll eat dinner soon :crackhead:

[Hey Ladi]

STUDENT AND SCHOOLMATE?

An Illustrated Monthly,

FOR OUR BOYS AND GIRLS.

Vol. XIX. JANUARY, 1867. No. I.

RAGGED DICK;

OR, STREET LIFE IN NEW YORK.

CHAPTER I.

RAGGED DICK IS INTRODUCED TO THE READER.

"Wake up there, youngster," said a rough voice.
Ragged Dick opened his eyes slowly, and stared stupidly in the face of the
speaker, but did not offer to get up.
"Wake up, you young vagabond!" said the man a little impatiently, "I suppose you'd lay here all day, if I hadn't called you."
"What time is it?" asked Dick.
"Seven o'clock."
""Seven o'clock! I oughter 've been up an hour ago. I know what 't was made me so precious sleepy. I went to the Old Bowery last night, and didn't turn in till past twelve."
"You went to the Old Bowery? Where'd you get your money?" asked the man,
who was a porter in the employ of a firm on Spruce Street.
"Made it by shines, in course. You don't catch me stealing, if that's what you mean."
"Don't you ever steal, then?"
"No, and I wouldn't. Lots of boys does it, but I wouldn't."
"Well, I'm glad to hear you say that. I believe there's some good in you Dick, after all."
"O, I'm a rough customer," said Dick. "But I wouldn't steal. It's mean."
"I'm glad you think so, Dick. Have you got any money to buy your breakfast?"
"No, but I'll some get some."
While this conversation was going on, Dick had got up. His bedchamber had
been a wooden box half full of straw, on which the young boot-black had reposed his weary limbs, and slept as soundly as if he had been on a bed of down. He dumped down into the straw without taking the trouble of undressing. Getting up too, was a short process. He jumped out of the box, shook himself, picked out one or two straws that had found their way into rents in his clothes, and drawing a well-worn felt hat over his uncombed locks, he was ready for the business of the day.
Dick's appearance, as he stood beside the box was rather peculiar. His pants were torn in several places, and had apparently belonged in the first instance to a boy two sizes larger than himself. He wore a vest, all of the buttons of which were gone except for two - out of which peeped a shirt which looked as if it had been worn a month. To complete his costume he wore a dress-coat, or "tail-coat," as the boys call it. The sleeves were so long that they had to be rolled up, and the tails nearly reached his feet. Washing the face and hands is usually considered proper in commencing the day, but Dick was above such refinements. He had no particular dislike to dirt, and did not think it necessary to remove several dark streaks on his face and hands. In spite of his dirt and rags, however, there was something about Dick that was rather attractive. It was easy to see that if he had been clean and well dressed, he would have been decidedly good-looking. Some of his companions were sly, and their faces inspired distrust, but Dick had a frank, straight-forward manner that made him a favorite.
Dick's business hours had commenced. His little blacking box was out ready for use, and he addressed each passer with, "Have a shine, sir?"
"How much do you charge?" asked a gentleman on the way to his counting-room.
"Ten cents," said Dick.
"Isn't that a little high?"

[Weird NJ]

:clueless: I don't get it. :clueless:

[Hey Ladi]

I thought the name Ragged Dick was funny :-D

[Danked]

That's it? :lol:

I was wondering where the story was going.

[Hybrid]

i didnt read any posts in this thread

[Hey Ladi]

no, the story was really long, maybe I'll read it sometime & tell you how it is

I can't find my Acid book :toast: Kool Aid anyone

[Hey Ladi]

barbiturates ... Erowid.com :thumbs-up:

~~~~~~~~~~~~
P. L. (male) Unspecified dosage of DXM

[I don't usually include unspecified dosage trip descriptions, but P. L. writes exceptionally well, and I think this particular piece may capture the essence of a high second plateau trip better than anything else I've yet found. Though probably written after the trip itself, the form of his writing is in many ways characteristic of the thought processes of a DXM trip. Enjoy!]

Hello friends. Yesterday I was feeling a touch lethargic. I had woken up only around 2pm and generally felt like a lazy bum. I messed around for a while on the computer, reading email and news. Well not really a while because I emerged from a semi-comatose state at around 6 PM. I decided shutting the computer off would be the wise thing to do at that point so that is what happened as it were.

Grabbing a bit or 10 from the cafeteria, I pondered the slogan of Jester cafeteria: "What you Don't Know Can't Hurt You." I didn't know what I was eating but so it didn't hurt me unless you count starch overload and gaseous pain as bad, which I don't. Upon returning to my room I arrived. The roommate of mine, Mr. James was entirely present at once giving studying a go of it.

"James, I lamented," I said at the time, "Studying on a Saturday night?"

"Yeh," he said. Noting that he did not say "Yeah" but more of a "Yeh" with a long uuuh sound. I seated myself on the seat infrontwise of the computer and flicky the switch that turney it on. Reading news and mail for even more longer periods of time I morosed at my situation again. Spotting the presence of many drixoral cough caps in my desk drawer I suddenly developed a rather severe cough requiring immedietly medical attendonitis.

Writing myself a perspiration is wont to help being the situation as it pleased me so, I consumfed the pills regularly quick. Putting clothes on (nekkid was I this whole time) rendered me fully clothed and I discovered that my ears were detecting strains of bizarre religious Korean music wafting from a box adorning Mr. James' desk. "Thinking this won't do," I said quietly determined to find my own tunes. I put on the headphones and started to play the Musak of all. Quickly finding the bright light unappealing, and noticing I was on the higher floor of the dorm, I elected to faraway to a more pastoral clime.

Gathering my belongs into a green bag that materialized in my paws, I forgot to include a wonderfully handy Mini-Mag lite that would have solved woeful problems I encountered later in the evening. Note the clever use of foreshadowing in the previous passage. I included amongst these materials a Walk-man and tapes of various important American rock-and-roll bands the devil's music as it were. Also was cigarettes and the important useful lighter, black in color. I considered flooding my guitar into my pocket and percolating that too, but the accoustics were suffering as a result of the stuffage so I left saying, "Good-bye, Mr. James! I will see you later."

Shaky swagger down the hall stopping to release bladderfuls of concerns into porcelain. My heart was heavy and my eyes were dim as I realized it was almost 45 minutes since ingesting the ahem medicine and the effectingness were starting to notice upon me. I stepped outside into the lovely cool air noting the temperature was neither hot nor cold. It seemed to me to be like one of the oft-remembered nights-on-the-town of Incline yore.

I stooped beneath an old oak tree adorning the lawn at the corner of East 21st Street, Austin Texas 78705-9005 postal code and the nearby adjacent San Jacinto street. I smoked a filthy cancer stick noting that the taste was unusually pleasantly remindful of smoking past with the combination of the evil grass leaf, cannabis sativa. You see, I usually smoked Camel Special Lights ™ ® along with the bad mary jee-wana and the taste is remindful as I was smoking the selfsame ciggies last night. The music was continually playing note after note in my left and right ear, being the Dead (who are ironically alive) playing a lovely China Cat Sunflower -> I Know You Rider which is lovely. The notes started to close my eyes and I rode along the golden crest of waves.

Simply sitting under the tree was the time first of all that I realized that the miniature Mag-lite would have been useful to sort my assortment of un-sorted musical tapes. As it was dark. I decided to move myself closer to the light-source illuminating and perched high humpty-dumpty style on a wall of sorts nearto and overlooking the street aforementioned. Many people passed nearby (but never touching) as this was a busy sort of street near many dorms including the one in which I lived. I looked at the popel but touching was not done. Bored getting was I though I had only barely begin to tripppp out.

In the U of T, A there is a feature architechtually or landscaping-known in some circles considered to be a South Mall to which I decided to rest my bones. In front of the largest Penis in the Sated of Texas is a large Lawn named the South Mall. At the North End of the South Lawn is a statuesque of Jefferson who is also holding a dildo in his left hand (this is true.)

Across the lawn is clearly visible the State Capitol of Texas forming a large line across the city of Austin, Tekas. Walking wise the mile or less to this site seemed to take a longishly short amount of time as my feet moved very very fast it seemed. I knew at this point that the effects of my uh cough medication were takingly effects. I found the South Mall where I left it from Last Time which was friday. I walked across the ocean of green (though sort of blue in the flourescent and moonlight) grass to the exact center of the lawn. I was now part of the line betweenwixt the afro mentioned objects. Laying on the underside of of my back I noticed the milky way gladcy was lining up to me too.

My rain falls like crazy fingers. I straighting out my possesions including the hat atop my head blocking my access to the ground. If not for hair, we would all be bald so be thankful. Many times when you are thinking about the Earthy you picture your place being that one of a flat area plane. Rarely is it an enticing thought to actually see yourself in a round sphere at the apex. Well my friends at this point in the Tale I will draw a diagram:


/^\
ooooooo
(ooooooooo)
/ooooooooooo\
(ooooooooooooo)>-|o <- [Fig. 2: "Me"] *
\ooooooooooo/ |
(ooooooooo) [Fig. 3: "Nearest Star"]
ooooooo
\,/

[Fig. 1: "The Earth"]



In other words I was sitting at the very nearest point of the Eard to the point in space I was looking straight up at. Believe me it took a long time to draw that stupid Earth Fig 1. I don't even know what figs have to do with it.

I thought of Sumner also at that instant, though I am not sure what connection he has here at this time. I flippeded the tape over and listening to "Loser" no not the recent Dylan-esque pop-bubblegum classique recorded by the late Beck but the old Dead song. I am telling you now (in just a second) that the guitar solo was more than I had heard. Wow. Well I just told you. I flipped the tape over and started hearing the following song that I heard, which was "Good Lovin" and I got some. Following that was the Drums solo and that was wild so I was just a grovin' to everything.

I lit up another ciggie and noticed the taste was even more loveler and before. I beheld that I only had a few left so I had best conserve them lest I run out before the night was through. "So this will be the last one for a while" was my line of thought here.

Now here comes the crux of the story, or the je ne sais quai or the climax if you are sexually obsessed: I don't know what I did with the lighter. I mayhaps have tossed it aside into the yon fields of grass or stuffed it into a nook and or a cranny or put it aside, but the being point I was making is that it's GONE. No light no smoke. I realize this as Drumz goes back into Good Lovin. Finally the words start again, and aghast I say out loud to myself, "This was all one song?! I thought it was, well," more songs, I said. I lookie at all the peeplies walking aboust on a proustly Saturday night. Many of them are perhaps wondering to themselves as, "Who is this guy on the grass anywhays," or "Damn, my last joint," or perhaps as, "I wonder if that guy on the grass has a really bad cough or something?" But the answer was for none to see.

Rather surprising at once point was when a guy walking merrily about his way down the bath suddenly stooped and did a cartwheel. As this person was now spinning about a purple axis, I wondered, "Did my eyes just decieve me or did that person suddenist spin around a pooply axis, bold as love?" Such recriminations were nost in order though as I heard "Dancing in the Streets" and "Morning Dew" in the next order. I had by now rolled around considerably on the grass and perplexing the poor stuff. It felt rather soft and nice to my trippy hands. Finally I took out my Dead 5/2/70 tape and put in the Beetles 'own "Blue Album" collection of song materials.

Listening to "Strawberry Fields Forever" as I surveyed the surrounding architecture I noted a large Church religious shire near. Thinking the origional Strawberry Fields was religious related in Liverpudlian, I floated up and down the lawn lamenting the lack of personages familiar to me. Penny Lane was in my ears and in my eyes, beneath the dark star filled sky. I did discover the missingosity of my beloved lighter used to create fire. I spent quite a long unfortunate time seaching for this piece of machinery. It was becoming the focal point of my existance. As all of the people currently reading this epic toem have been under the influenced of the evil mary Juanta plant can attest to this feces: LOOKING FOR SOMETHING WHEN STONED IS BAD NEWS. Everythingly seems to take forever whike you wonder, "Did I look here before?" I searched my green bag which was laying leisurely near me. I searched my pockets and my jacket and the ground near me, but the lighter had mysteriously vanished into the nether-lighter realm. Eventually drugging the passages of "A Day In The Life" I gave up my quest (temporaly) and gathered my remaining belongings up and walked to the North.

Wondering abits with nothing to do, I feeled the need to urinate again (After all I had drank quite a bit of liquids in revealing the drixorals to my stomach) so headed to the nearest Building. Which happened to be the Undergrad Library, which happened to be closed. I proceeded to the NEXT building, which was the infamous Student Union upon entering. Mostly it was closed as well but some areas of the large structurly were open for business of any ports. Finding it very berry difficult to walk at this time, I turned off my headphones. It seems that the bassline of "All You Need Is Love" was effecting the movements of my feet in such a way that made walking impossible. The walls were beginning to melt and Greg Brady was emerging from the woodwork in a way that I Wish he wouldn't. Feeling OK Soda for the moment though, I thought about Where I found a Bathroom on my Summer Vacation. Near the bowling alley.

Bowling Alley?! No bowling alley in a Student Union, were there? Sure enough there was and it was quite packed with younders enjoying all sorts of sports infolving throwing heavy balls at white pins. Luckily for me the balls of all sorts were evading my head and extremities, but Not for Long! I wondered how could that last after all I Was standing in the "alley" as they termed it for throwing the balls at the pins. "Cries of," hey what's that moron thinks he's doing, and Get out of the way, dummy! "Accompanied my fusilade." Jimping merrily dodging heavy black spheres, I foundst my way to the pretty potty. Ah, relief I shouted as the stream of pee-pee failed to erupt. "Oh yeah," I thought, "I gotta turn it on!" And so it were. I urinated most merrily.

My lighter, I thought, is still missing. Perhaps I could find it by the light of my faithful dog Cragsemere. The sauana bathroom light provided the illumination neccesary to conduct another investigation into the whereabouts of the light but no further progross was made. A FREAK was in the bathroom with me. I gourd hardly see the poor man though as cough pills tend to alleviate that nasty vision thing, and he was melting and falling to bits as it were. Ruminating should I held the fellow get back together in one piece, no Fuck him! I shouted and ran out of the room (it was a bathroom.)

Strugglying to find my way to the street I came across an endless field. It shimmered and shimmied for a moment and a bus stop filled the void. A bus came buy and I got on that's when it all began. There was a Cowboy named Neal at the wheel of the bus to never-ever land. Finally tombledown I reached the end of the Union and emerged blasphmeming into the street. Music resumed playing at this thyme, goo goo gaa joob was the ralleying cry.

Surely my eyes aren't decieving me, but I swore this girlie that I knew from way back on the Island walks by and says, "Hallo" as she is want to do. Me as I was fiddeling with stuff didn't realized it until after the time, Butt I said "Hallo" anyway. Who knew? Maybe next year I will get a right hook too. Walking down Guadalouppe (the Drag) why a drag it was, too. I found myself in the West Mall this time, which is different from the South Mall in that it plays to the West rather than Southerly, and there is little to know grass here. Turn that Damn guitar down! Well I float in liquid gardens and Arizona's new red sands. I sat to recoup and gain my senses and possibly replace the tape I am playing with.

Sitting on the bench my eyes become rather bizarrely orientated. Have you seen the films of the science-fiction? It is somewhat approximately like that. A small roving portion of my eye becomes disctinctly focued and magnificationly wise. I use this new-found super power for the dardest of deeds, to look for that darnded lighter again. Instead my roving eye focuses in on a steady stream of ants coming this way! Now I hate ants dearly and I stand up to avoid them at all costs. Sure enough one clings to my hand which I shake off.

Finding another place to stand, I realized that my music was not playing the correct notes! Often times the notes were slower than intended. So I replace the batteries (this is hard with 1 hand, 1 hook, and 34 drixorals.) And select a new tape, one with a mix of many bands. That def dumb and blind kid sure plays a mean pinball. By now I am surely an adjective descriped as "PEAKING" and since I have lost my lighter I am near the point of crying tears. My vision is not so good as because things are dripping and rearranging right before my eyes, surely not an effect of a psychadelic drugs?

I decide to make my way gently and slowly to my home-time abode. I wonder, "What time is it?" so I check my watch to find out the answer to this lovely question. It seems the watch face has melted onto my wrist. It is therefore impossible to find out the time, but fortunately the U of T, A is equipped with an extra-large Penis as noted before. This Penis chimes out the hour every hour on the hour. I found it to be by now 12 midnightly by my reckoning.

I found my way back to the South Mall and gave the Damn grass a once-more going over to find my lighter. No luck so I lay down on the grass. My body quite literally melts into the earth, leaving the essence of my soul clinging to the ground like a vapor. However, perhaps the source of this disturbance can be found. You see I cannot verily go to French class on Monday if my body has melted into the Earth, can I now? The musak goes out of Space (for those of ye who don't know, a very bizarre sound-effects weird thing done at Dead shows) and into a song, "The Other One." The guitar notes emerging from Space into Other One is the life-force that slowly ebbs back into my body. It rises from the ground, engulfs my body, and I rise from the Dead so to speak.

I was very pleased that my soul found a home again, because I had a paper due in English coming up and it's hard to type if your soul's body has melted into the ground. I decide now would be a good time to return sightly home again. I make my way back to the lovely Moore-Hill dorm (my home). Smoking (en francais, fumar) is verboten dans el Universitudo, so you have to smoke your dagga outside. I cleft a ciggie to my lips and learn again that I have no light. Damn! However, there is a studnut run radio station in the next building. some nasty hippie kids are standing by the door smoking, so I figure how can I get a light from them? Being near them would be a good start. I try to be near them but they have disappered. They are gone. I go back to my corner of the universe, and sure enough there they are again. I am afraid that I cannot speak, so I forget about the whole situation and smoke an unlit cig. Making my way inside and up to my room, I put the key in the lock and twist and turn for ages. Finally the door is agahst and Mr. James is standing lookin' perplexed. "The door was open the whole time," he scowls at me.

"Oh. Still studying?" I ask nochalantly but I am given away. I was speaking a foul alien tounge and now HE KNOWS. "Yeh." But then he leaves so I am left alone. I run into the shower and cleanse myself. This is a difficult task while still frying fully. Several times I have to remind the water to behave itself. Eventually I am done and return to my room. I turn the light off and sit down on the bed.

For the first time that night, I realize exactly what went on (that I was tripping, etc.) I think I have come down, but not completely. I turn on the music again and relax to the edifying tunes of music. I fall asleep abliss and think, "Tomorrow I will write my mates and remind them of my learnings and travels."

Well, what did you think? I am suprised you read this far without flicking off the screen, thinking, "What a loose screw."

But I am off to get some chowder.

[FNMoron]

.....hey, what's with all the words???

[Hey Ladi]

did you have somewhere to be?

I'm looking for the American Dream, have you seen it?

a shoeshine, some drugs? what is it? :fuggin:

[Hybrid]

this is the worst thread ever

[Hey Ladi]

thank's for calling, opinion noted, no changes to be made :thumbs-up:

[Hybrid]

i can make some changes...

[Hey Ladi]

don't you dare!!!!

[Hybrid]

what does this button do...

[Hey Ladi]

I saw a bunch of birds/buzzards eating a deer on the side of the road Friday, that was ...... icky

what's the difference between buzzards & vultures? are they different?

[Danked]

That button deletes the whole thread.

[Hybrid]

can i use it. pleaaaaaaaaaaaseeeeeeeeeeeeee