Fleamailman

I like posting like that. That was pretty fun. I'venever had a hance to express myself in that style of writing.

And I agree, the pictures are very interesting, although I think some of them are paintings.

"...and forever you will haunt loyal young goodoers on the web and drive them to hate you..." the goblin wearily responded. "...in this lonely day, i have a terrible illness confining me from my sunday services. it was once said "Peace be with you" to those you were close by during the procession. i say it in arabic in stead..."

All that is true.

For some reason young goodoers hate Einsteinean. On this day that I'm bored, I'm really sick and not at church. Peace be with you in Arabic sounds something like "Masalama oh laicolm". I'm not sure how to type it for sound. My sister speaks Arabic and she tells me random stuff.

[Random trash can]

"aah, but it is the ones who do not like EInsteinean that do not realize they do not like themselves, for it takes one to know one."" replied the gnome, chuckling. "one needs to realize one's own flaws before pointing out those of another. It seems as if the golden rules is not being carried into effect very well."

"...as Lennon once wrote, "words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup", he had no idea that, 4 decades into the future, his prophecy would be fulfilled, and 10,000 newbies would spam their heads off," proclaimed the goblin. ""nothin's gonna change my word" is how you should live. let no newbays put you down for watching a sunset with your mother. but you can put down the endless suckers as shown below..."

lol. Brady does FAIL. Go Flacco!

"...and the young throwers, such as flacco, do succeed. stupid jerkface salt cakes, like brady, deserve no better than the shameful vick dogs..."

Vick deserves to be imprisoned for life. He is such an asshole.

"...those who call others assholes are at least half as bad at the target victim of assholidness. i might as well be called one for spamming, and stealing thunder..."

"...the internet is filled with violence and whatnot, life has changed over the past few decades..."

I have to agree.

the goblin explained something saying "..."live writing" is completely different from "book writing", first off, the post can't be long since one is competing with facebook here, next off, the hit rate is a pretty fair indicator of ones readership and participation, and last off, the work and it's author are just two sides of the same coin...", and yet the statement seemed too big to explain in one go, but the goblin knew that it was the last bit that was the most important and biggest difference, continuing "...it's the same difference as can be seen between that of the cinema and the theater, where in this case those books, like films, seem some set record of the something previous , whereas posts are more like the theater, where the audience is viewing everything first hand...", at which point the goblin felt there was something else to add here, continuing "...the total number of hits to a thread tells one of its readership, and the number of hits divided by the number of posts gives the participation rate, some "last post" threads I do have a high readership rate, while others have a high large participation rate, and yet as much I understand the workings of these threads, the fact that I remain anonymous, simply means that none of what I have just written matters beyond the fact that I enjoy "live writing" far more than I would "dead writing"..."

"..the redundancy of flea's exemplary writing has thus taken ovr my brain...spam, 'o spam, rubbish -- it makes lot sense if you use your brain"



"..well, no"

("...I like it, you lot have talent, your posts have content mortals, not easy to find the right words and matching picture, so I notice it straight off..." said the goblin)

the goblin was weighing what he'll write now that he had received a PM from someone elsewhere explaining that the admin there was in hospital from a heart attack, meaning that the goblin should cheer her up by doing some "get well" post, "...I know, and I am writing it now, and yet what is odd is the background of anonymity here, you see, I don't know her for all our friendliness and cooperation to date, it's just that some "dailylife" considerations are simply carried over onto the Internet too like this...", he writes "well, if you didn't have that a big heart in the first place none of this wouldn't have ever happened", seeing that those two safe replies of "get well soon" or "you are in my prayers" would bore the goblin if he was ever on the receiving end of them, "...for me, those normal replies simply betray the poster as someone either "fobbing off the post" or as someone a bit dull in nature..." explained the goblin

The Musnters never dies.

Nice pic. I love that show.

For First Time eva' I Agree with Einsteinean

repost from elsewhere, something written in Winter

"...well there are goblins and goblins, not all of them are bad though, some of them like myself can be quite friendly..." said the goblin not knowing what to write next, something about himself perhaps, about being a working father living in Geneva, etc., though all that was his "dailylife" self and had hardly any barring as to who he actually was inside, "...no, the trouble with the Internet is that, once one is here, one starts to sees oneself as two diverging selves, that is, one sees ones "dailylife" self as something like a series of downhill retrenchments that leaves one ever more incapacitated and alone, as opposed to ones "Internet" self which grows with practice, becoming more capable, fluid and imaginative as the years pass..." the goblin reached over the table for his coffee cup which no doubt would fuel his next bit, continuing "...so does it boil down to this question then "is the written work the author while the author is still writing it", so isn't this author then the part I play here for myself on this masked ball of the Internet, that is, since that "Internet" self, which I hide in my "dailylife" has just as much right to claim to be me as the person reflected in the mirror doesn't it, simply both mes are me like two sides of the same coin aren't they...", but by now the goblin's coffee was drunk, the question too, at this point sounded as intrusive as the air that slowly peculated through the walls, perhaps even underlining the view form the window of this unforgiving iced up city held firmly trapped under the bitterest of freezingly cold stark days, trapped in real life, "...oh no, that is not all of me then, I am more than this that "dailylife" outside of me..." concluded the goblin continuing here as if to prove that fact to himself, that his Internet self was him too

Thanks TMJ.

Now the picture above me is interesting, at best.

59) the goblin could see it coming, his mother in her 86th year had Alzheimer's and yet looking back it had been a fight worth waging for her. In fact he still thanked his wife and children for their understanding over those many months apart from them it had taken, that is, between its first state of simple forgetfulness on to that usual fully blown abusive state one sees rooted in someone not knowing who anyone was around them were. the goblin's nights had been long, he had had to make sure that she did not escape the house nor fall, meaning a watch that was each night every night. So between the goblin and his father they had gained his mother a year and half longer in her own home, and it was only until she had become featally incontinent too that they admitted defeat and placed her in a secure home. Looking back, his feelings were mixed, first off there were no regrets, he was happy at himself, he still is, and he had looked at this more as chance to say thank you to his mother than as any burden or bore, but he had also had to admit to himself that somewhere in all this his mother had already died, she was there and not there. Anyway if the goblin had to take a memory with him, it would be of almost the last time he saw her before he returned to Switzerland. You see hospitals in England are not allowed to restrain people and yet his mother would have only fallen if she tried to stand up, so they laid her back comfortably in a reclining chair in the sitting room while the goblin stroked her hand like a cat. "I want to sit up" she would ask, "in a moment" the goblin would reply knowing that it couldn't be, she would clasp the side of the chair, pull and then give up. "I want to sit up" again, the goblin felt like he was looking at someone drowning, "in a moment", again and again until that image stuck in flea's memory,it just seemed to sum up Alzheimer's for him

Once again, interesting.

I am by the "goblin"

day's end, Halloween, and the goblin passed the cemetery where voices seemed to say "...and where are our sweets then, are we now forgotten...", so the goblin promised to return the next day with a few he hadn't given away, adding "...alright but it'll be our secret then...", "...thanks, promise..." they seemed to reply as he walked on in the growing darkness

cycling in the wind the cold cuts into the goblin's face as he rides towards to bus terminal and always at this point his grandmothers words spring to mind "...if you cycle into the wind you will be colder than walking whereas if you cycle with the wind you will be warmer..." to the 10 year old goblin at the time it was true wisdom but today it is a friendly ghost that pops up each time he cycles in cold windy weather, making the goblin wonder by what ghost his own children would remember him by

That picture, wow. Also, Flickr images never work for me