Unlost,tell me a donkey doing peyote on a boat story....

unlost dogs

It doesn't end well for the donkey. :(

norm

unlost dogs wrote:

It doesn't end well for the donkey. :(

what...did he drive the bus over a cliff? :?


as you can see, i'm very confused as to what is happening here

best i can gather, unlost went to Ireland as a child and was driven around the emerald isle by poncier the demented clown bus driver..scared of poncier, she exited the bus and flagged down the nearest pink donkey and rode it to salvation

am i close? :think:

unlost dogs

norm wrote:

unlost dogs wrote:

It doesn't end well for the donkey. :(

what...did he drive the bus over a cliff? :?


as you can see, i'm very confused as to what is happening here

best i can gather, unlost went to Ireland as a child and was driven around the emerald isle by poncier the demented clown bus driver..scared of poncier, she exited the bus and flagged down the nearest pink donkey and rode it to salvation

am i close? :think:

Oh, so very close Norm _ you nailed it right up until you said the donkey was pink.

She was brownish gray. Standard Irish donkey color.

norm

unlost dogs wrote:

norm wrote:

unlost dogs wrote:

It doesn't end well for the donkey. :(

what...did he drive the bus over a cliff? :?


as you can see, i'm very confused as to what is happening here

best i can gather, unlost went to Ireland as a child and was driven around the emerald isle by poncier the demented clown bus driver..scared of poncier, she exited the bus and flagged down the nearest pink donkey and rode it to salvation

am i close? :think:

Oh, so very close Norm _ you nailed it right up until you said the donkey was pink.

She was brownish gray. Standard Irish donkey color.

oh so you weren't tripping on peyote...gotcha!

unlost dogs

Add to the list: Unlost has never done peyote.

Poncier

unlost dogs wrote:

Add to the list: Unlost has never done peyote.

Are you sure?
Peyote is the stage name of this clown:



And he was sure smiling after leaving you at the back of the bus (until I told him he had to clean up your vomit, you really should avoid the back of the bus with that carsickness issue).

norm

Poncier wrote:

unlost dogs wrote:

Add to the list: Unlost has never done peyote.

Are you sure?
Peyote is the stage name of this clown:



And he was sure smiling after leaving you at the back of the bus (until I told him he had to clean up your vomit, you really should avoid the back of the bus with that carsickness issue).

voidofman

norm wrote:

oh so you weren't tripping on peyote...gotcha!

If you trip on peyote you aren't doing it right. Odds are you poisoned yourself as the white fuzz in the cactus contains strychnine.

mickeyrat

ok, now finish the story. My popcorn is out of the microwave.....

Dissidentman

This thread has the potential to be "epic"

Go...

norm

Dissidentman wrote:

This thread has the potential to be "epic"

Go...

until she fesses up to what happened to the pink donkey, we can't move on

Poncier

Pink donkey...isn't that a euphemysm for...

Dissidentman

We are all at the edge of our seats...

Dissidentman

Poncier wrote:

Pink donkey...isn't that a euphemysm for...

Tacos?

unlost dogs

*pointedly ignores Poncier's post because he knows that not only would I not ride at the back of the bus, but also I have a deeply-rooted fear of clowns which makes any clown interaction quite impossible*

So, in this story I am 12, in Ireland for the summer, visiting family on a hillside farm overlooking the Aran Islands: Inishmore, Inishmaan, and Inishshit. They're quite beautiful islands, inhabited by friendly gnomes who speak an archaic dialect of Orc.

Author's note: I've never actually been to the Aran Islands, but I saw part of a Rick Steves special about them, or maybe it was one of them, so I'm somewhat of an expert on the matter. It might have been the Guernsey Islands or possibly Crete in the Rick Steves special, I'm not really sure.

Anyway, the family who lived on this farm raised dairy cows. Those are cows that are used to make ice cream and also milk.

The family did not have a car, but they had a tractor. My uncle and aunt would milk the cows in the morning and again in the evening, or maybe it was just the evening. At any rate, they would put the milk into giant cans that went on a trailer that was pulled by the tractor driven by my uncle to the place where they put the milk into containers with missing children on them.

There are other steps involved between squeezing the cow's udders _ which, by the way put me off milk for quite a long time _ and the container with the missing kids. I don't know what those steps are, though.

mickeyrat

unlost dogs wrote:

*pointedly ignores Poncier's post because he knows that not only would I not ride at the back of the bus, but also I have a deeply-rooted fear of clowns which makes any clown interaction quite impossible*

So, in this story I am 12, in Ireland for the summer, visiting family on a hillside farm overlooking the Aran Islands: Inishmore, Inishmaan, and Inishshit. They're quite beautiful islands, inhabited by friendly gnomes who speak an archaic dialect of Orc.

Author's note: I've never actually been to the Aran Islands, but I saw part of a Rick Steves special about them, or maybe it was one of them, so I'm somewhat of an expert on the matter. It might have been the Guernsey Islands or possibly Crete in the Rick Steves special, I'm not really sure.

Anyway, the family who lived on this farm raised dairy cows. Those are cows that are used to make ice cream and also milk.

The family did not have a car, but they had a tractor. My uncle and aunt would milk the cows in the morning and again in the evening, or maybe it was just the evening. At any rate, they would put the milk into giant cans that went on a trailer that was pulled by the tractor driven by my uncle to the place where they put the milk into containers with missing children on them.

There are other steps involved between squeezing the cow's udders _ which, by the way put me off milk for quite a long time _ and the container with the missing kids. I don't know what those steps are, though.

So this is where the tractor comes in. Uh huh. uh huh..... We're listening....

Dissidentman

unlost dogs wrote:

*pointedly ignores Poncier's post because he knows that not only would I not ride at the back of the bus, but also I have a deeply-rooted fear of clowns which makes any clown interaction quite impossible*

So, in this story I am 12, in Ireland for the summer, visiting family on a hillside farm overlooking the Aran Islands: Inishmore, Inishmaan, and Inishshit. They're quite beautiful islands, inhabited by friendly gnomes who speak an archaic dialect of Orc.

Author's note: I've never actually been to the Aran Islands, but I saw part of a Rick Steves special about them, or maybe it was one of them, so I'm somewhat of an expert on the matter. It might have been the Guernsey Islands or possibly Crete in the Rick Steves special, I'm not really sure.

Anyway, the family who lived on this farm raised dairy cows. Those are cows that are used to make ice cream and also milk.

The family did not have a car, but they had a tractor. My uncle and aunt would milk the cows in the morning and again in the evening, or maybe it was just the evening. At any rate, they would put the milk into giant cans that went on a trailer that was pulled by the tractor driven by my uncle to the place where they put the milk into containers with missing children on them.

There are other steps involved between squeezing the cow's udders _ which, by the way put me off milk for quite a long time _ and the container with the missing kids. I don't know what those steps are, though.

So many topics to cover here... but again...a bus you will never be on... just so happens to be in Tijuana (thread integrity)

unlost dogs

There are no buses in this story.

And, since the setting is Ireland, where they do not grow cacti, there will be no peyote in this story.

So where were we?

Oh, yes, so my uncle would drive the tractor with the milk cans on the trailer to the place they put the milk into the carton with missing kids.

Pause for an illustration:


This is not my uncle, but he did wear a cap like that guy's.

And he had dogs that would bring in the cows, which I always thought was funny because I thought dogs only rounded up sheep or, in the case of the unlost dogs, tennis balls. But only soft tennis balls that squeak.

Here is another portrait of someone wearing a cap like my uncle's:


I thought that guy was Leonardo Dicaprio, but apparently he's not.

Some of you may draw an immediate parallel between Unlost Dogs and Leonardo Dicaprio because of the whole boat thing...


...but my hair is not that long, and my boat is not that big.

EDIT: Also, unlike my boat, that boat still has propellers. The irony here are that like that boat, my boat's propellers also are at the bottom of the sea.

he.who.forgets

this is really good stuff here unlost...carry on

mickeyrat

he.who.forgets wrote:

this is really good stuff here unlost...carry on

I would agree, IF she wasn't stalling.