"and both parties shall use the 'material' limited to claims that they have exclusive access, ownership, and origination of the truth, as long as they make no mention of the other party, originating said material or not.."
OK.. I bring da nuts, you bring the ostrich sandwiches..
The Further Adventures of the Squirrel Patrol, The Diligent and Dutiful Order of Sand Dusters, and The Way of Feathers and Nuts.
The animals ceased fighting in recognition of a new threat: Assimilation by the Borg. A meeting was called.
T-bone flapped his wings and called the meeting to order. “We know they have said resistance is futile. However, now that Sir Squirrel is sober, we have a fighting chance. I suggest we send him on a flying mission to discover where exactly their stash of nuts is located. Also, we need to know how many they have.”
After much discussion, they ceased saying, “don’t go to Jerusalem” and voted to send the Bird Corps. with Sir Squirrel (who was not allowed to vote, but recognized his own ability to intimidate). Knowing the purpose of the Borg is to improve the quality of life for all species with mysterious doctrines of metallic nature, he was glad to go. This ruffled some feathers.
As Sir Squirrel and the Bird Corps. mounted their flying camels, the rest of the animals bid them farewell with tears in their eyes at the sheer spectacle and bravery of it all. The time had come. The camels began to run, creating great swirling clouds of sand. Finally they lifted off into the sky, and as they slowly disappeared, two feathers floated serenely to the ground, which were quickly swept up by the Sand Dusters. Then quietness fell on the desert.
Meanwhile, the SDFODAT continued to teach the secrets of the desert with regard to how to deal the adversary. She unveiled the formula: turn in a circle three times, stick your fingers in your ears, and repeat fifty times “never give up, never give in.”
The Borg Queen was restless and dissatisfied. The urge to assimilate was strong. She’d heard Sir Squirrel was on his way, and that although small in stature, he was a mighty knight. She shifted her body parts, but was unable to prevent a clanging sound. After much pondering on her strange metallic doctrines, she came to a decision. It was time to implement M & A.
She commanded her Licentious Chief (known as the LC) to gather together a few nuts to offer as a bribe to Sir Squirrel. Her plan was to entice him on board the ship, and surround him with salivating wolves hurling insults and accusations. She would then banish him from the sky. Her cubical would be safe.
Hey, don't lay it on too thick, there's only so much you can do with a rusty sword..
Mr. Hamm,
I was wondering if, in addition to your wielding a rusty sword, you've been running a spy ring for the British govt. in Iran, or if these are merely some of your relatives?
Gliding through the night, Sir Squirrel reflected on his mission and kept his legs out of the reach of camel bites. He was pensive, but confident. His rusty sword was ready.
The Bird Corps. talked quietly among themselves, and recited “never give up, never give in.” They were prepared and ready.
Soon the Cubicle Ship loomed in front of them, dazzling and square. A tiny Cubicle ship left the mother ship, approaching the entourage and signaled permission to join them. Sir Squirrel gave permission after a slight hesitation.
As the LC approached, his smell was vile. His metal was dull and his eyes were glazed over, and he spit often. He held out a handful of cashews to Sir Squirrel. “You may have these and more if you will follow me to the mother ship.”
Sir Squirrel considered. “Is this a trick? Even if it is, I need inside to find their stash of nuts.” Sir Squirrel agreed to follow the LC to the Cubicle Ship. The Bird Corps. lined up in a straight line behind him and they flew toward the ship, camels mostly cooperating, but not entirely.
Sheltered from the swirling sands the SDFODAT pondered what the next step should be.
Would the Borg be susceptable to offers of power and money??
Was it true about the collective mind?
Could the SDFODAT control that collective?? Or would the collective absorb them all.
Inate paranoia, and self preservation urged that the situation be kept well in check.
No more would the occasional mighty sand storms of the desert suffice.
No, the way was clear, the sand dusters must unite, they must swirl and twirl the ancient sands into steady clouds of never ending dust.
Granted the ceaseless dust would cause the sand snorters far more discomfort than the measured snorts they chose to inhale. Constant irritation would become their lot-- but better that than the alternative.
As for the squirrels-well they would see the wisdom, the benevolence of the SDFODAT. If not? Well they'd be quicksand pools before midnight.
But sand --sand in the machinery of the life of the Borg--yes sand..............
And with the coming of night the sands began to move and ebb slowly, ever so slowly gaining momentum.............
Dear Dipsy or shall I more properly and politically correctly utter "Temple Lady" The collective intelligence of any one community has proven never to increase the baseline of intelligence more than the highest sum of it's average. In other words. I'm getting BORGed with all our proper pronunciation of the ostrich's actions.
While the SDFODAT contemplated her reign of sand and eventual influence over the universe, Sir Squirrel and the Bird Corps. landed on the Cubicle Ship. They were greeted by the Borg Queen (Madame Rivenfart) and the ravenous, salivating wolves.
Hesitantly, Sir Squirrel dismounted his camel. The wolves surrounded him. “You are SHORT” one snarled.
Sir Squirrel responded, “Whether the tree fall to the north or to the south, where it falls is where it lays.”
Another wolf growled out, “Your sword is RUSTY.”
And Sir Squirrel barred his teeth and said, “Way up in the sky, the big birdies fly, while down in the nest, the little birds rest.” He stooped down to draw in the dust. Rising, he reached into his pocket and withdrew five smooth nuts. He also withdrew a slingshot. Aiming carefully, he shot Madame Rivenfart in the forehead.
Her eyes narrowed, and then she collapsed.
Sir Squirrel seized the opportunity and ran in search of the stash of nuts, deep in the abyss of the Cubicle Ship.
Excerpt from the screenplay of OstrichFuzzy by Ian Flemflock
Scene 2, page 85b
[scene opens at MISick's Headquarters, M's office]
M: The Iranian media can enjoy prattling all they want to about capturing our covert squirrels – matter of fact we're counting on that as a distraction while we send you to the Bird Over the Herd Auditorium. We want you to see what the Bird Corps have sunk their heads into this time.
007: I take it our surveillance on SDFODAT is held in abeyance – it would be a shame if you miss any negotiations between SDFODAT and Madame RivenFart – it could help our-
M: 007, "held in abeyance" is a little outdated – we're going with "This Present Ruse" nowadays…I want you to see The gear we've assigned to you for this mission.
[scene changes to M and 007 walking into MISick's Weapons Lab. In the background several technicians can be seen flinging razor sharp green cards across the room shredding the red drapes on the balcony. They quickly walk through four auditorium simulators where highly skilled agents are stringing chairs with the latest chair-stringing technology.]
M looking about frantically – then gets a bead on someone who is acting like the head chair stringer; slapping his hand on the back of a tall dark haired gentleman in a futuristic jumpsuit
M: Where the devil is Q?
The futuristic jump-suited man turns around – and with a wry smile speaks
Q: At your service, M.
M: You're not our Q. You're that God-like being from Star Trek.
Q: Your Q quit believing – so I had to pick up the slack…uhm, basically I'm believing to cover for him. Besides, if you've been paying attention to this thread you would realize you may need my help in dealing with the Borg. Now allow me to show you how the Q Continuum outfits secret agents.
[Q snaps his fingers and a deep blue motor coach suddenly materializes]
Q: It has all the typical features an MISick's agent is accustomed to – rotating license plates for eluding the vice squad, ejector bed when you're tired of your "guest", a Beta format VCR with remo-
007: That is Out There!
Q: Hmm, yes I try to think outside the box…or Borg cubicle [Q laughs]…but remember to receive anything from Q you must first know what's availa-
007: No – I mean that's Out There – standing by the shredded red drapes.
M: He's going to drive your bus. He's been knighted recently, acts a little squirrelly sometimes – but he stays current on the latest technology in cutlery – he's on the cutting edge of all things that have a cutting edge. And if there's anything to some reports of several offshoots collaborating – you'll need all the help you can get. Though the DDOSD and TWOFAN are rivals they've been known to help anyone who shows promise to the collections.
[007 chuckling]
007: You mean the Collective…the Borg Collective. You pronounced it "collections"; you're slipping, M [laughs again]
M: Because I meant collections. Abundant sharing is down in most groups – don't know if it's a shortage of blue forms or some global unbelief thing. Bottom line for all these groups is the same – where is the next dollar coming from?
007: Once again you've elevated a simple task to an impossible mission – when all you needed to do was get a smart uncle. I'm your secret agent, man - don't ever forget that! Avengers come and go - but I'll always be here for you.
M: Your double 0 status is a license to kill - not pun. Unless you intend to kill this thread by your pun - why it's gone on this long - I don't know - maybe we're all part of the bored collective.
**gasping, a baby squirrel skids to a stop before the SDFODAT, panting heavily he gasps the following***
"Oh mighty SDFODAT, the rumors are true!! 007, Bond, James Bond, is going to come here. It is unclear what his intentions are toward you, the Borg. But he will be here shortly"
**rising from his platinum, jewel encrusted, red velvet cushioned ,soapbox the SDFODAT descends the thee gold steps ( inlaid with silver inscriptions from the ancient desert texts)***
"Summon the Scorpion King!!!!
**trumpets blare, the sands tremble and "The ROCK" enters, chamber maids, secretaries, and hand maids fall swooning to the earth***
"Why do you call me? Who summons the Scorpion King??!!
**the baby squirral hastily steps over the prostrate form of the serving wench and pours two glasses of Drambuie setting them before the Scorpion King and the SDFODAT**
"I have summoned you mighty king of the scorpions, I the SDFODAT. Bond, James Bond, is on his way here. As I know you are aware, the Borg threaten my rule. I need to keep Bond occupied while I thread the best route throught the dunes of this potential catastrophe.
**the Scorpion King sips his drink carfully watching for traps or other signs of impending danger**
"Occupying Bond is of no great difficulty. Even as we speak the Sheik of Gunnison is assembling all the great beauties of the Southern Dunes in search of a wife for his son. They meet this week in the emporiam of the Auditorium Way. Bond will find much to occupy his mind and time there.......
Sir Squirrel scurried down the hallway. Where to go? The ravenous, salivating wolves must surely be close behind. He spied a left turn and hurried down it. The hallway was dark, close, and ominous. The most logical place to stash the nuts was the food pantry. But where was it? Suddenly he smelled liver, a profoundly disgusting odor. With onions. It smelled like armpits flavored with sea salt. As he moved toward it, he bumped into a man.
“Who are you?” he asked.
The man answered, “I am Bond. James Bond. Agent 007.”
Sir Squirrel was delighted and relieved. “What special weapons do you have?”
James answered, “A feather duster and a jawbone of an arse equipped with sensors and special detonators. It has razor sharp edges and emblazed with "666." Also I have green cards capable of cutting through anything, including red drapes.” We need to hurry this mission as I have an appointment with SDFODAT, deep in the desert.
Hi there - my name is Bird, James Bird. Having a bit of a problem – and was wondering if someone could direct me to technical support. There’s sand in the fax machine, slow transmissions are murder on plagiarized documents.
James Bird (is that an ostrich I hear squawking something about plagiarism? Never mind…) and Sir Squirrel finally found the food pantry after much meandering and climbing over various metal objects. They approached the stove with much caution and a certain amount of fear. Carefully, James lifted the lid on the pot that was emitting green steam.
“It’s simmering strange metallic doctrines” he screamed. “Ready to be served on a silver platter and assimilated by the handful that still care about it, and fed to their collective conscience!"
In a fit of vengeance, Sir Squirrel leaped to the top of the stove and began chopping up the meal. As he hacked and slashed, his rusty sword grew sharper, and his mind became clearer, in spite of the green steam. James Bird was growing faint, however.
Official Borg Things-to-do list for # 4570 of the Collective
1. Arrange meeting with SDFODAT, under pretext of shaking Scorpion King’s hand. Ask for a drink. When SDFODAT leaves room to get drink, take over as ruler. Get Scorpion King’s autograph.
2. Slip Sir Squirrel a mickey and test for compatibility of assimilation. Run simulation of assimilation. Get tetanus shot in case Sir Squirrel or Sir Out There are packing steel.
3. Ask 7 of 9 out for a date. Confess everyday, “Resistance to me is futile” until she accepts date.
4. Assimilate all believing images of victory and metallic doctrines.
5. Check with legal department on issues with assimilating plagiarized documents.
6. Find out if humans have service warranty that covers sand in machinery of life.
7. Return Star Wars Part III box to Blockbuster. Hope they don’t realize disc has been assimilated.
8. Screw with everyone’s head by telling them, “You must be Borg again.”
9. Call Bed, Borg and Beyond to see if ordered accessories are in.
10. Verify assimilation probe can be applied to other end of Ostrich when their head is in the sand.
Well……you wonder what you can say to people after all this…maybe "I'm sorry" …I'm surprised the moderators haven't moved this thread to the Just Plain Silly forum. Although I do believe humor can be healing, empowering and enlightening. I find the humorous jabs we take at TWI can shrink the mental baggage down to a manageable size.
So anyway, thinking about this thread today – I wanted to mention a serious thought from all the funny posts. And by the way, thanks for everyone's input on this thread!!!!!
If you remember in the minutes from our last meeting – the Urban Dictionary defined ostrichizationas the act of placing one's head in the sand. As a follower of TWI, one of the first things I learned to do was to compartmentalize ideas – isolating beliefs and sensory input into categories defined by TWI. I had got in the habit of granting TWI's doctrines a greater priority than my five senses. The ostrichization process of TWI begins when you buy into the idea that the real world is malleable – that a reality-altering power exists and awaits your command. Gradually TWI doctrines become the primary influence. A TWI follower with head firmly planted in erroneous doctrines becomes oblivious to the way life really works.
I loved the off-the-wall stuff on this thread – that's just my taste in humor – it's a lot of fun. A sobering thought I had though – kind of sad really – I recall some of the off-the-wall beliefs of TWI [law of believing, positive affirmations, believing images of victory, operate all nine all the time] – but I took these things seriously. They were real to me…That's sad. Nothing funny about that…It's always a good day when an ex-TWIt begins the de-ostrichization process. Life above ground is...grand!
***THe SDFODAT has graciously invited the Scorpion king to spend the evening in his palacial motor tent drwan by 16 camels which the Scorpion King has accepted. Enter fourteen small brown sand scorpions who proceed to laboriously peel away the putty and spirit gum facade of "The Rock" revealing none other than...........Lawrence Caravan Muftacorps!!!!***
Okay, my faithful ones, clearly the SDFODAT, my diety in the "word of the desert" is losing his touch. He is totally unaware that instead of James BOND it is James BIRD--not to be confused with his cousin James BEARD of gastric renown!
But, oh furture SDFODAT, what can we your faithful followers do to help you??
First VPW, must never suspect that I, LCM, am anything but appreciative for his leadership and guidance. He must never know that the Scorpion King is my alter ego. As long as he believes that I am merely an adherent, instead of a leader who is worthy of greater stature and adulation than he has ever claimed, my plans to take over his "ministry" can go forward unimpeded.
That will be easy, Camel Gearshift and VPW are too impressed with what they have achieved to ever imagine that you as LCM would ever be able to outsmart them!!!
**unseen behind the curtains of the motortent, LCM's consort Duneha listens and smiles--little does LCM , VPW, the BORG, or CG suspect that her plans, already being laid, will thrive and survive long beyond any of theirs....********
James Bird’s ears perked. The wolves are coming. “Hurry, we must find the stash of nuts.” They began searching all the compartments, each carefully labeled, such as “Law of Believing.” The wolves arrived.
“You will never find them outside the household of the Borg, the collective unconscious” the leader snarled, saliva dripping from his jaws.
Teeth clenched, Sir Squirrel began throwing slimy tomatoes with all his might, which was considerable. Surprised at the lack of appreciation for their wisdom and knowledge, the wolves stopped in their tracks and stared. They even stopped salivating.
Meanwhile, James Bird found the bag of nuts in a dusty, unused drawer. It was labeled “reality.” Truly this was a great treasure worth all the effort and would be much needed when he got to the desert. He waved it carefully in front of the nose of each wolf. One by one they each passed out, unable to accept what was in front of them.
Ostriches evolved from another bird millions of years ago. Their ancestors flew high in the sky, seeing the whole picture. One day, some of the birds decided that there was more to see underground. So they flew down and stuck their heads in holes. They couldn't find what they were looking for but thought they shouldn't give up, that would be a sign of weakness. They even stopped associating with the other birds that stayed in the sky. The birds that stuck their heads in the ground began to venerate those who could keep their heads underground the longest. These birds would be given "Double honor" and more mating rights. As generations passed the competition intensified. Those birds who couldn't keep their heads underground long enough (according the the standard) were given one warning, then thrown to the crocodiles. As time went on the ostriches developed adaptations which allowed them to seek where the prize couldn't be found. But they pressed for the mark, raising their offspring in the way that they should go. Today, these bird's descendants are the ostriches we know (gnosko) and love (agape).
Welcome to Grease Spot Café, Waytrix Survivor. I love your name and avatar!!!!!!! The Matrix is one of my all time favorite movies. Oops, where’s my manners – let me offer you a cup of coffee.
You’ll have to make a choice though…Drink from the cup on the left and you will forget about everything discussed on this thread and wake up tomorrow morning with an incredible hangover with your head in the sand…Drink from the other cup and you’ll remember everything discussed on this thread, and wake up tomorrow morning with an incredible hangover with sand in your hair.
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Ham
well.. let's add :
"and both parties shall use the 'material' limited to claims that they have exclusive access, ownership, and origination of the truth, as long as they make no mention of the other party, originating said material or not.."
OK.. I bring da nuts, you bring the ostrich sandwiches..
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templelady
My book will be out as soon as I can arrange my thoughts in order
TO DO LIST
I Find brain
2 insert brain in body
3 remove reinsert until in correct position
4 turn brain on
5 remember what brain is used for
6 remove brain
7 go to sleep
8 wake up
9 find brain..................
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Out There
T-Bone. It seems I am going Erehwon fast! please frugal me.
Temple lady. You might be right. I may have inserted my cranium in the incorrect orifice.
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exwaycorps
medical field here
we refer to that as "cranio-rectal inversion"
it's an epidemic hee-hee
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T-Bone
[note to self: verify orifice before inserting brain.]
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another spot
The Further Adventures of the Squirrel Patrol, The Diligent and Dutiful Order of Sand Dusters, and The Way of Feathers and Nuts.
The animals ceased fighting in recognition of a new threat: Assimilation by the Borg. A meeting was called.
T-bone flapped his wings and called the meeting to order. “We know they have said resistance is futile. However, now that Sir Squirrel is sober, we have a fighting chance. I suggest we send him on a flying mission to discover where exactly their stash of nuts is located. Also, we need to know how many they have.”
After much discussion, they ceased saying, “don’t go to Jerusalem” and voted to send the Bird Corps. with Sir Squirrel (who was not allowed to vote, but recognized his own ability to intimidate). Knowing the purpose of the Borg is to improve the quality of life for all species with mysterious doctrines of metallic nature, he was glad to go. This ruffled some feathers.
As Sir Squirrel and the Bird Corps. mounted their flying camels, the rest of the animals bid them farewell with tears in their eyes at the sheer spectacle and bravery of it all. The time had come. The camels began to run, creating great swirling clouds of sand. Finally they lifted off into the sky, and as they slowly disappeared, two feathers floated serenely to the ground, which were quickly swept up by the Sand Dusters. Then quietness fell on the desert.
Meanwhile, the SDFODAT continued to teach the secrets of the desert with regard to how to deal the adversary. She unveiled the formula: turn in a circle three times, stick your fingers in your ears, and repeat fifty times “never give up, never give in.”
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another spot
Chapter 2:
The Borg Queen was restless and dissatisfied. The urge to assimilate was strong. She’d heard Sir Squirrel was on his way, and that although small in stature, he was a mighty knight. She shifted her body parts, but was unable to prevent a clanging sound. After much pondering on her strange metallic doctrines, she came to a decision. It was time to implement M & A.
She commanded her Licentious Chief (known as the LC) to gather together a few nuts to offer as a bribe to Sir Squirrel. Her plan was to entice him on board the ship, and surround him with salivating wolves hurling insults and accusations. She would then banish him from the sky. Her cubical would be safe.
Or so she thought.
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wrdsandwrks
Mr. Hamm,
I was wondering if, in addition to your wielding a rusty sword, you've been running a spy ring for the British govt. in Iran, or if these are merely some of your relatives?
Did you see this:
Iranian Police Smash Squirrel Spy Ring?
Is this part of your squirrel cult activites?
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another spot
Chapter Three
Gliding through the night, Sir Squirrel reflected on his mission and kept his legs out of the reach of camel bites. He was pensive, but confident. His rusty sword was ready.
The Bird Corps. talked quietly among themselves, and recited “never give up, never give in.” They were prepared and ready.
Soon the Cubicle Ship loomed in front of them, dazzling and square. A tiny Cubicle ship left the mother ship, approaching the entourage and signaled permission to join them. Sir Squirrel gave permission after a slight hesitation.
As the LC approached, his smell was vile. His metal was dull and his eyes were glazed over, and he spit often. He held out a handful of cashews to Sir Squirrel. “You may have these and more if you will follow me to the mother ship.”
Sir Squirrel considered. “Is this a trick? Even if it is, I need inside to find their stash of nuts.” Sir Squirrel agreed to follow the LC to the Cubicle Ship. The Bird Corps. lined up in a straight line behind him and they flew toward the ship, camels mostly cooperating, but not entirely.
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templelady
Sheltered from the swirling sands the SDFODAT pondered what the next step should be.
Would the Borg be susceptable to offers of power and money??
Was it true about the collective mind?
Could the SDFODAT control that collective?? Or would the collective absorb them all.
Inate paranoia, and self preservation urged that the situation be kept well in check.
No more would the occasional mighty sand storms of the desert suffice.
No, the way was clear, the sand dusters must unite, they must swirl and twirl the ancient sands into steady clouds of never ending dust.
Granted the ceaseless dust would cause the sand snorters far more discomfort than the measured snorts they chose to inhale. Constant irritation would become their lot-- but better that than the alternative.
As for the squirrels-well they would see the wisdom, the benevolence of the SDFODAT. If not? Well they'd be quicksand pools before midnight.
But sand --sand in the machinery of the life of the Borg--yes sand..............
And with the coming of night the sands began to move and ebb slowly, ever so slowly gaining momentum.............
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Out There
Dear Dipsy or shall I more properly and politically correctly utter "Temple Lady" The collective intelligence of any one community has proven never to increase the baseline of intelligence more than the highest sum of it's average. In other words. I'm getting BORGed with all our proper pronunciation of the ostrich's actions.
Now what are we talking about??
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Chapter Five
While the SDFODAT contemplated her reign of sand and eventual influence over the universe, Sir Squirrel and the Bird Corps. landed on the Cubicle Ship. They were greeted by the Borg Queen (Madame Rivenfart) and the ravenous, salivating wolves.
Hesitantly, Sir Squirrel dismounted his camel. The wolves surrounded him. “You are SHORT” one snarled.
Sir Squirrel responded, “Whether the tree fall to the north or to the south, where it falls is where it lays.”
Another wolf growled out, “Your sword is RUSTY.”
And Sir Squirrel barred his teeth and said, “Way up in the sky, the big birdies fly, while down in the nest, the little birds rest.” He stooped down to draw in the dust. Rising, he reached into his pocket and withdrew five smooth nuts. He also withdrew a slingshot. Aiming carefully, he shot Madame Rivenfart in the forehead.
Her eyes narrowed, and then she collapsed.
Sir Squirrel seized the opportunity and ran in search of the stash of nuts, deep in the abyss of the Cubicle Ship.
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T-Bone
Excerpt from the screenplay of OstrichFuzzy by Ian Flemflock
Scene 2, page 85b
[scene opens at MISick's Headquarters, M's office]
M: The Iranian media can enjoy prattling all they want to about capturing our covert squirrels – matter of fact we're counting on that as a distraction while we send you to the Bird Over the Herd Auditorium. We want you to see what the Bird Corps have sunk their heads into this time.
007: I take it our surveillance on SDFODAT is held in abeyance – it would be a shame if you miss any negotiations between SDFODAT and Madame RivenFart – it could help our-
M: 007, "held in abeyance" is a little outdated – we're going with "This Present Ruse" nowadays…I want you to see The gear we've assigned to you for this mission.
[scene changes to M and 007 walking into MISick's Weapons Lab. In the background several technicians can be seen flinging razor sharp green cards across the room shredding the red drapes on the balcony. They quickly walk through four auditorium simulators where highly skilled agents are stringing chairs with the latest chair-stringing technology.]
M looking about frantically – then gets a bead on someone who is acting like the head chair stringer; slapping his hand on the back of a tall dark haired gentleman in a futuristic jumpsuit
M: Where the devil is Q?
The futuristic jump-suited man turns around – and with a wry smile speaks
Q: At your service, M.
M: You're not our Q. You're that God-like being from Star Trek.
Q: Your Q quit believing – so I had to pick up the slack…uhm, basically I'm believing to cover for him. Besides, if you've been paying attention to this thread you would realize you may need my help in dealing with the Borg. Now allow me to show you how the Q Continuum outfits secret agents.
[Q snaps his fingers and a deep blue motor coach suddenly materializes]
Q: It has all the typical features an MISick's agent is accustomed to – rotating license plates for eluding the vice squad, ejector bed when you're tired of your "guest", a Beta format VCR with remo-
007: That is Out There!
Q: Hmm, yes I try to think outside the box…or Borg cubicle [Q laughs]…but remember to receive anything from Q you must first know what's availa-
007: No – I mean that's Out There – standing by the shredded red drapes.
M: He's going to drive your bus. He's been knighted recently, acts a little squirrelly sometimes – but he stays current on the latest technology in cutlery – he's on the cutting edge of all things that have a cutting edge. And if there's anything to some reports of several offshoots collaborating – you'll need all the help you can get. Though the DDOSD and TWOFAN are rivals they've been known to help anyone who shows promise to the collections.
[007 chuckling]
007: You mean the Collective…the Borg Collective. You pronounced it "collections"; you're slipping, M [laughs again]
M: Because I meant collections. Abundant sharing is down in most groups – don't know if it's a shortage of blue forms or some global unbelief thing. Bottom line for all these groups is the same – where is the next dollar coming from?
007: Once again you've elevated a simple task to an impossible mission – when all you needed to do was get a smart uncle. I'm your secret agent, man - don't ever forget that! Avengers come and go - but I'll always be here for you.
M: Your double 0 status is a license to kill - not pun. Unless you intend to kill this thread by your pun - why it's gone on this long - I don't know - maybe we're all part of the bored collective.
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templelady
**gasping, a baby squirrel skids to a stop before the SDFODAT, panting heavily he gasps the following***
"Oh mighty SDFODAT, the rumors are true!! 007, Bond, James Bond, is going to come here. It is unclear what his intentions are toward you, the Borg. But he will be here shortly"
**rising from his platinum, jewel encrusted, red velvet cushioned ,soapbox the SDFODAT descends the thee gold steps ( inlaid with silver inscriptions from the ancient desert texts)***
"Summon the Scorpion King!!!!
**trumpets blare, the sands tremble and "The ROCK" enters, chamber maids, secretaries, and hand maids fall swooning to the earth***
"Why do you call me? Who summons the Scorpion King??!!
**the baby squirral hastily steps over the prostrate form of the serving wench and pours two glasses of Drambuie setting them before the Scorpion King and the SDFODAT**
"I have summoned you mighty king of the scorpions, I the SDFODAT. Bond, James Bond, is on his way here. As I know you are aware, the Borg threaten my rule. I need to keep Bond occupied while I thread the best route throught the dunes of this potential catastrophe.
**the Scorpion King sips his drink carfully watching for traps or other signs of impending danger**
"Occupying Bond is of no great difficulty. Even as we speak the Sheik of Gunnison is assembling all the great beauties of the Southern Dunes in search of a wife for his son. They meet this week in the emporiam of the Auditorium Way. Bond will find much to occupy his mind and time there.......
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Chapter Six
Sir Squirrel scurried down the hallway. Where to go? The ravenous, salivating wolves must surely be close behind. He spied a left turn and hurried down it. The hallway was dark, close, and ominous. The most logical place to stash the nuts was the food pantry. But where was it? Suddenly he smelled liver, a profoundly disgusting odor. With onions. It smelled like armpits flavored with sea salt. As he moved toward it, he bumped into a man.
“Who are you?” he asked.
The man answered, “I am Bond. James Bond. Agent 007.”
Sir Squirrel was delighted and relieved. “What special weapons do you have?”
James answered, “A feather duster and a jawbone of an arse equipped with sensors and special detonators. It has razor sharp edges and emblazed with "666." Also I have green cards capable of cutting through anything, including red drapes.” We need to hurry this mission as I have an appointment with SDFODAT, deep in the desert.
Stealthily they moved toward the horrid smell.
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T-Bone
Hi there - my name is Bird, James Bird. Having a bit of a problem – and was wondering if someone could direct me to technical support. There’s sand in the fax machine, slow transmissions are murder on plagiarized documents.
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That's too funny. Darn, I wish I'd named him James Bird in the story....
You guys feel free to add chapters to the story, if you want. I just started it is all.
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Chapter Seven
James Bird (is that an ostrich I hear squawking something about plagiarism? Never mind…) and Sir Squirrel finally found the food pantry after much meandering and climbing over various metal objects. They approached the stove with much caution and a certain amount of fear. Carefully, James lifted the lid on the pot that was emitting green steam.
“It’s simmering strange metallic doctrines” he screamed. “Ready to be served on a silver platter and assimilated by the handful that still care about it, and fed to their collective conscience!"
In a fit of vengeance, Sir Squirrel leaped to the top of the stove and began chopping up the meal. As he hacked and slashed, his rusty sword grew sharper, and his mind became clearer, in spite of the green steam. James Bird was growing faint, however.
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T-Bone
Official Borg Things-to-do list for # 4570 of the Collective
1. Arrange meeting with SDFODAT, under pretext of shaking Scorpion King’s hand. Ask for a drink. When SDFODAT leaves room to get drink, take over as ruler. Get Scorpion King’s autograph.
2. Slip Sir Squirrel a mickey and test for compatibility of assimilation. Run simulation of assimilation. Get tetanus shot in case Sir Squirrel or Sir Out There are packing steel.
3. Ask 7 of 9 out for a date. Confess everyday, “Resistance to me is futile” until she accepts date.
4. Assimilate all believing images of victory and metallic doctrines.
5. Check with legal department on issues with assimilating plagiarized documents.
6. Find out if humans have service warranty that covers sand in machinery of life.
7. Return Star Wars Part III box to Blockbuster. Hope they don’t realize disc has been assimilated.
8. Screw with everyone’s head by telling them, “You must be Borg again.”
9. Call Bed, Borg and Beyond to see if ordered accessories are in.
10. Verify assimilation probe can be applied to other end of Ostrich when their head is in the sand.
Resisting things-to-do list is futile
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T-Bone
Well……you wonder what you can say to people after all this…maybe "I'm sorry"
…I'm surprised the moderators haven't moved this thread to the Just Plain Silly forum. Although I do believe humor can be healing, empowering and enlightening. I find the humorous jabs we take at TWI can shrink the mental baggage down to a manageable size. 
So anyway, thinking about this thread today – I wanted to mention a serious thought from all the funny posts. And by the way, thanks for everyone's input on this thread!!!!!
If you remember in the minutes from our last meeting – the Urban Dictionary defined ostrichization as the act of placing one's head in the sand. As a follower of TWI, one of the first things I learned to do was to compartmentalize ideas – isolating beliefs and sensory input into categories defined by TWI. I had got in the habit of granting TWI's doctrines a greater priority than my five senses. The ostrichization process of TWI begins when you buy into the idea that the real world is malleable – that a reality-altering power exists and awaits your command. Gradually TWI doctrines become the primary influence. A TWI follower with head firmly planted in erroneous doctrines becomes oblivious to the way life really works.
I loved the off-the-wall stuff on this thread – that's just my taste in humor – it's a lot of fun. A sobering thought I had though – kind of sad really – I recall some of the off-the-wall beliefs of TWI [law of believing, positive affirmations, believing images of victory, operate all nine all the time] – but I took these things seriously. They were real to me…That's sad. Nothing funny about that…It's always a good day when an ex-TWIt begins the de-ostrichization process. Life above ground is...grand!
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templelady
***THe SDFODAT has graciously invited the Scorpion king to spend the evening in his palacial motor tent drwan by 16 camels which the Scorpion King has accepted. Enter fourteen small brown sand scorpions who proceed to laboriously peel away the putty and spirit gum facade of "The Rock" revealing none other than...........Lawrence Caravan Muftacorps!!!!***
Okay, my faithful ones, clearly the SDFODAT, my diety in the "word of the desert" is losing his touch. He is totally unaware that instead of James BOND it is James BIRD--not to be confused with his cousin James BEARD of gastric renown!
But, oh furture SDFODAT, what can we your faithful followers do to help you??
First VPW, must never suspect that I, LCM, am anything but appreciative for his leadership and guidance. He must never know that the Scorpion King is my alter ego. As long as he believes that I am merely an adherent, instead of a leader who is worthy of greater stature and adulation than he has ever claimed, my plans to take over his "ministry" can go forward unimpeded.
That will be easy, Camel Gearshift and VPW are too impressed with what they have achieved to ever imagine that you as LCM would ever be able to outsmart them!!!
**unseen behind the curtains of the motortent, LCM's consort Duneha listens and smiles--little does LCM , VPW, the BORG, or CG suspect that her plans, already being laid, will thrive and survive long beyond any of theirs....********
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Chapter Eight
James Bird’s ears perked. The wolves are coming. “Hurry, we must find the stash of nuts.” They began searching all the compartments, each carefully labeled, such as “Law of Believing.” The wolves arrived.
“You will never find them outside the household of the Borg, the collective unconscious” the leader snarled, saliva dripping from his jaws.
Teeth clenched, Sir Squirrel began throwing slimy tomatoes with all his might, which was considerable. Surprised at the lack of appreciation for their wisdom and knowledge, the wolves stopped in their tracks and stared. They even stopped salivating.
Meanwhile, James Bird found the bag of nuts in a dusty, unused drawer. It was labeled “reality.” Truly this was a great treasure worth all the effort and would be much needed when he got to the desert. He waved it carefully in front of the nose of each wolf. One by one they each passed out, unable to accept what was in front of them.
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waytrix survivor
WELL PUT!
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T-Bone
Welcome to Grease Spot Café, Waytrix Survivor. I love your name and avatar!!!!!!! The Matrix is one of my all time favorite movies. Oops, where’s my manners – let me offer you a cup of coffee.
You’ll have to make a choice though…Drink from the cup on the left and you will forget about everything discussed on this thread and wake up tomorrow morning with an incredible hangover with your head in the sand…Drink from the other cup and you’ll remember everything discussed on this thread, and wake up tomorrow morning with an incredible hangover with sand in your hair.
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