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Message

An Evening of Fellowship Goes Awry ('Tis all my fault): An Epic Poem
Posted on 10/20/18 at 12:03 am
Posted on 10/20/18 at 12:03 am
Attend!
We have heard the great tales I have told many times on the OT lounge, how my escapades have often been quite discreditable due to my own poor decision making, or so you all have told me. Anyhow, this evening I was invited to join in an agape meal at a small restaurant near my home; a night of food, fellowship, and scholarly discussions, as after all, I am an educator myself.
As we dined this evening, I was surrounded by many a new face, and I must say my company was quite drab, and knew little of sports. Instead, they decided to discuss rhetoric, most notably their annotations from Scott Crider's "The Office of Assertion". It is a riveting read, but I would much rather discuss Louisiana State's upcoming match against the Bulldogs of the Kingdom of Starkville. Just as the second course was being served (it was some sort of vegan gumbo of which I was not a fan), a large cockroach scaled the wall across from my seat.
I alerted an employee of the most deplorable intruder, but, for lack of better terms, he was too much of a namby-pamby to do anything about the situation. The grotesque insect sat on the wall for what seemed like a fortnight, before leaping forth and flying directly towards a gentleman seated at the table adjacent to my own. Just as the vile vermin was about to land on the back of the gentleman's head, I took matters into my own hands, swinging forth with my fist, yet my movements were too swift; I missed the flying fricker completely and nailed the reposed gentleman in the side of the head.
Alas, the evening was ruined! The restaurant had gone silent, and the countenance of my counterparts had gone from merry to cross in a short period of time. I felt the unapproving eyes of my fellow patrons follow me as my unfortunate victim wallowed in agony. At this time, the manager of the restaurant himself had come out and apologized profusely to the injured gentleman, who had sent many a vulgar indignity in my direction. My many apologies held no merit, as the wife of the injured requested that the staff dismiss me from the restaurant for my reckless conduct. I departed in a state of shameful disbelief at the turn of the events of the evening, ardently awaiting the opportunity to grace the OT Lounge with yet another tale of my own misfortune.
END SCENE.
Post Scriptum: Amidst the commotion, the roach was still able to scuttle away unscathed
We have heard the great tales I have told many times on the OT lounge, how my escapades have often been quite discreditable due to my own poor decision making, or so you all have told me. Anyhow, this evening I was invited to join in an agape meal at a small restaurant near my home; a night of food, fellowship, and scholarly discussions, as after all, I am an educator myself.
As we dined this evening, I was surrounded by many a new face, and I must say my company was quite drab, and knew little of sports. Instead, they decided to discuss rhetoric, most notably their annotations from Scott Crider's "The Office of Assertion". It is a riveting read, but I would much rather discuss Louisiana State's upcoming match against the Bulldogs of the Kingdom of Starkville. Just as the second course was being served (it was some sort of vegan gumbo of which I was not a fan), a large cockroach scaled the wall across from my seat.
I alerted an employee of the most deplorable intruder, but, for lack of better terms, he was too much of a namby-pamby to do anything about the situation. The grotesque insect sat on the wall for what seemed like a fortnight, before leaping forth and flying directly towards a gentleman seated at the table adjacent to my own. Just as the vile vermin was about to land on the back of the gentleman's head, I took matters into my own hands, swinging forth with my fist, yet my movements were too swift; I missed the flying fricker completely and nailed the reposed gentleman in the side of the head.
Alas, the evening was ruined! The restaurant had gone silent, and the countenance of my counterparts had gone from merry to cross in a short period of time. I felt the unapproving eyes of my fellow patrons follow me as my unfortunate victim wallowed in agony. At this time, the manager of the restaurant himself had come out and apologized profusely to the injured gentleman, who had sent many a vulgar indignity in my direction. My many apologies held no merit, as the wife of the injured requested that the staff dismiss me from the restaurant for my reckless conduct. I departed in a state of shameful disbelief at the turn of the events of the evening, ardently awaiting the opportunity to grace the OT Lounge with yet another tale of my own misfortune.
END SCENE.
Post Scriptum: Amidst the commotion, the roach was still able to scuttle away unscathed
This post was edited on 10/20/18 at 12:08 am
Posted on 10/20/18 at 12:08 am to Jim Rockford
It’s an epic poem. Oh how the education of the youth has failed us.
Posted on 10/20/18 at 12:10 am to lsudave1
No way I read that. Are you COC Dave.
Posted on 10/20/18 at 12:11 am to lsudave1
quote:
It’s an epic poem
It isn’t. It fits literally none of the requirements
Posted on 10/20/18 at 12:12 am to lsudave1
Is this the new gameday poem?
Posted on 10/20/18 at 12:16 am to fr33manator
I actually have studied the works of Homer, Virgil, and Milton many a time. If you analyze their own intentions for an epic poem in context, you will be able to come to an understanding that the requirements are not as rigid as meets the eye.
Posted on 10/20/18 at 12:25 am to lsudave1
You’ve no meter. Not even a smidgen of flow. Format is wrong. Not a modicum of a stanza.
A pox on thee,
And thy tale of roach,
Thine form is poor,
And worth reproach,
Try as thou may,
To sing thy tale,
You simply have,
An epic fail
A pox on thee,
And thy tale of roach,
Thine form is poor,
And worth reproach,
Try as thou may,
To sing thy tale,
You simply have,
An epic fail
This post was edited on 10/20/18 at 7:01 am
Posted on 10/20/18 at 12:29 am to lsudave1
What's old English for "cool story, bro"?
Posted on 10/20/18 at 12:32 am to lsudave1
If this really happened you should be telling us the name of the restaurant so we don't go eat at this roach motel.
Posted on 10/20/18 at 12:36 am to JohnnyKilroy
quote:
Only gays write poems
Mightier than the sword,
The pen is, it’s bemused,
To wield the words well woven,
Can leave a soul so bruised,
A care’fully crafted comeback,
Stops dullards in their tracks,
And leaves the stupid stammering,
If That’s gay, lick my sack.
Posted on 10/20/18 at 12:40 am to fr33manator
quote:
lick my sack
Asking dudes to lick your sack is definitely gay
Posted on 10/20/18 at 12:47 am to JohnnyKilroy
Sorry you lack the intellect to wield the written word effectively.
OP failed, but to suggest that being able to cunningly craft language is something worthy of ridicule is asinine.
The bards and storytellers of old are responsible for the preservation of our histories, our tales. Without them we are mere monkeys.
It was those who were able to weave tales around the campfires that kept our deeds remembered.
OP failed, but to suggest that being able to cunningly craft language is something worthy of ridicule is asinine.
The bards and storytellers of old are responsible for the preservation of our histories, our tales. Without them we are mere monkeys.
It was those who were able to weave tales around the campfires that kept our deeds remembered.
Posted on 10/20/18 at 6:31 am to lsudave1
I liked it, but it would have been better if you had attacked the cockroach with a sword and had unfortunately decapitated the neighboring gent.
Posted on 10/20/18 at 8:38 am to fr33manator
quote:
You’ve no meter. Not even a smidgen of flow. Format is wrong. Not a modicum of a stanza.
A pox on thee,
And thy tale of roach,
Thine form is poor,
And worth reproach,
Try as thou may,
To sing thy tale,
You simply have,
An epic fail
....aaaaaannddd you've been fr33manatored.
Posted on 10/20/18 at 8:40 am to fr33manator
quote:
Only gays write poems
quote:
Mightier than the sword,
The pen is, it’s bemused,
To wield the words well woven,
Can leave a soul so bruised,
A care’fully crafted comeback,
Stops dullards in their tracks,
And leaves the stupid stammering,
If That’s gay, lick my sack
...aaaaanndd you too, good sir, have justly been fr33manatored
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