Ham

Full mellow hippie- probably closer to the truth. Actually, I was only partly nice in TWI. The old branch guy thought even then I was too nice. Now I must just be wallowing in niceness.. heh heh. I think some of us who thought PFAL was a means to an end- the idea that we could understand the bible- got something out of it. But it was highly overrated. No longer was it a nice little set of keys, it turned into some kind of magic pill that could make you "superbeliever", able to jump over the biggest spurts in a single bound. Cripe, it offered claims that only God Almighty had the right to make.

"I've forgotten more about da holy spit than you'll ever KNOW."

Forgive me Satori.. I think reading "defocked" and "spit" in the same paragraph is what did it to me, heh heh.

"Praise da Lawd! We have another one!"

Yep. I was in a few of those "receiving the blessed holy spit" meetings. Followed behind the big kahuna. Heard him whisper in one guys ear, "come on.. wet your pants".

Well, if this turned up as da current poop among the innies, ole Rosie and gang could claim that indeed it was not whiz. It is leftovers from when god spit in their direction..

Well.. if God spit in your direction, you wouldn't get up, that's one thing. If the true god sloshed them out in the aisles, there is nothing you or I could do to get them up. Besides, he'd have to violate all the free will of the universe to make it spit in such manner. God does not possess spit, unlike the weekly advertised slain in da spit meetings. Has to be counterfiet spit. The "bad guys" just saving up gallons of spit for "the right moment". Besides, if you happened to walk by one of these slain in the spit folk and kick them, they'd all get up.

Just when you thought you saw it all- an infamous boob that faced possible charges of assault.. I wonder if the buyer has to register it with the State of Florida as a possible lethal weapon.

beatnik maybe.. not too frustrated. Now if I had to live off of the royalties of my "creations" I might be in real trouble. No, not beatnik. Maybe old hippie. A friend tells me beatniks weren't all that they were cracked up to be..

I wonder if she throws out the threat about leaving, you know- ANY fortune 500 company would have her..

Gruesome.. well, I'd have to see da color of da money first.. I still can count pretty well, too..

Well, I keep hoping.. would be nice to hear from him. It's been over twenty years.

Hey, I can go wacko too. I am usually harmless, just go off and do poetry.. one way of dealing with it, heh heh.

HCW- well said in all. Well, if logic and appeal to common sense fail, maybe I could try some more Dr. Seuss stuff.. at least that gets some people's attention.

Dunno. She isn't that pretty.

But it is kind of funny. They have the "forward command center" situated in the middle of the woods in the northeast corner of nowhere..

About 9:15 this morning, molasses would beat it in a dead run. Half hour later, fast as lightning.

No "horsing around".

There are some ground rules though- the horse would have to keep it's pants on, and it's hands to itself.. Can't snore, either.

Of course.

I have thought that they have been leading from their behinds for years. Now we have da proof..

(thunderous applause in background) "thank you, thank you.."

I'd rather.. Fall down fifteen flights of stairs, or camp in park with raging bears. Hug a frightened porcupine, or coat myself with tar of pine. Drag me through the town with horse, or sleep on bed that's really coarse. Eye of newt or tongue of frog I'd rather eat, than listen to MOG. Run nekked fast through briar patch, or forced on egg, would sit, to hatch. Most important files lost, out in the cold i'd rather be tossed. Sea water use to make my coffee, rather than PFAL to copy. Super glue myself to chair, or break my favorite urn, that's rare. Burn myself with soldering iron, or butt my head upon a pylon. Ok, I'm done, I'll say no more unless someone wants an encore.

Absolutely. Some folks were fortunate enough to grab some good and run away.. others, not so fortunate. I was not corpse, but it was the same for me- over two decades. Twenty plus years of rehashing the same classes, and the "new and improved" versions that were sadder looking than their predecessors. Same old tired materials, same stuff. Paid again, and again, and again. It's incredible.. some posters here are STILL at it. No TWI involvement to carefully and continually "guide" you through their trough of worn out stuff? Well, that's OK- just do it on your own, and INSIST that others do the same. No thanks, no more.. I think you make a good point. It wasn't the class itself that was so rotten to the core, it was the indoctrination and manipulation that came with it.

Frankee, I am not really a PFAL hater. Just don't want to go over it- again, and again, and again- just certain folks here think that that is God's plan for their lives. I am just kind of of the opinion that if you don't get the message after sixty or so viewings of the class, and add to that a cumulative of YEARS of study time, something has got to be wrong. I don't hate it, or even think it's evil incarnate or anything like that- just don't want any more. Done, kaput.. finished with it. I did not say that I don't want the word of God. Just some posters here equate the two- think PFAL IS the Word of God. I do not hold this opinion. PFAL, despite inherent flaws, and even despite the character of the teacher, did help some people. But it's supposed to be a class about keys. Basic keys- I am thankful for what I learned in kindergarden, but I do not wish to relive it every stinking day of my life. "Now, this is how we flush the potty, this is how we wash our hands.." over, and over, and over, and over. My polite offer of "no thanks" was not very well accepted at one point here. I don't get even, I just do poetry, heh heh. Sure, you learn by repetition- but honestly, enough is enough. O.M.- yep, I'd rather lick the frozen flag pole- just make sure my tongue was dry first, heh heh.