oh how I hate editing post so join me at it then

[GORDY GAMBINO]

cheers kiebers but this fucken fleamail is a deranged fuckwit. no doubt came in on the coat tails of that gap toothed blonde skank.

[Anonymous]

cheers kiebers but this fucken fleamail is a deranged fuckwit. no doubt came in on the coat tails of that gap toothed blonde skank.

They are all frickin idiots living in the past on that forum.

[fleamailman]

("...no she was banned from TRF for reasons I don't care to know of..." smiled the goblin who hadn't known that cuskur was here even, simply someone had posted up a banned from bluecashew image, and then the goblin tried his luck now, adding "...different game here, brawling is your old hat game whereas with me let's just say that you'll return to read what I write...")



repost from elsewhere

Perhaps the op should learn to distinguish between 'friend' and 'acquaintance'.

and with that the demon looked down at the goblin sternly, barring him, and with grin said "...come now, first tell me the difference be a friend and an acquaintance here, or otherwise you must return from whense you came...", so the goblin paused and thought hard for a second, somehow knowing that his entry here depended upon this one reply now, and then, as if the answer seemed to rise up with him, looked back at he demon and just repeated his thoughts word for word saying "...well perhaps a friend is someone one doesn't know, whereas an acquaintance is someone one doesn't know either but moreso...", "....pass, for now you may enter my goblin friend, oh and welcome to our kingdom of facebook here..."



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[Anonymous]

Tell the goblin, I really do not give a shit about what happens at trf.

[fleamailman]

Tell the goblin, I really do not give a shit about what happens at trf.

,



("...me neither Herman, but maybe you should tell Gordy there not to mention it, then I won't feel obliged to answer his comment..." smiled the goblin way passed his bedtime, adding "...and besides, it's one of maybe 50forums with me, where if anything I feel myself more to be writersbeat's goblin, but these forums come and go, so what does it matter which forum while here, I'm just here now, that's all that matters for the moment...")



repost from elsewhere

I think maybe you'll win this competition Flea - you never run out of things to say

"...too true..." replied the goblin, adding "...but actually it's a battle against one's own indifference here, in that first one sets a quota like "one post a day", asking oneself what in my life is worth posting, then one types out a text, perhaps adding a matching picture to dress it, where then one posts the result across as many "last post" threads as one can so as not to lose it, afterwhich one just dies like everyone else does...", at which point most people think "well why bother then" but the goblin knew that that was the difference between a shared and an unshared life, and that most people hadn't the slightest clue what that meant as they were probably too caught up in their dailylife and all that bidding of the moneygod again to simply see it for themselves, whereupon the goblin just spelled it out now, saying "...just their muses sleep I guess, and that's their choice perhaps, but not mine now, ah no, for I want to know myself by what I post..."



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[Berry Sweet]

Tell the goblin, I really do not give a shit about what happens at trf.

Whats trf?

[Berry Sweet]

The Retarded Fart?



The Real Fucktards?



The Rotten Freaks?

[RW]

The Retarded Fart?



The Real Fucktards?



The Rotten Freaks?

All of the above?

[Berry Sweet]

Quite possibly...

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere, continuation from before, the "why do you write" thread



"...me, I'm anonymous, so I can't write for a reward here..." smiled the goblin, liking xxxxx's post upon reading it, adding "...just writing is so conducive to my coffee and a lifestyle that would probably spell wasted life to anyone else, but what of it now where that rat-race is for those rats where I have scurried long enough for the trinkets of the moneygod, so one lives, yes and scurries on as best one can, but my attention is ever elsewhere humans and the more I write the more I am me by my pen by it as opposed to me by my externals, and where too, I am too old to justify myself to others here, simply it's habitual then, where no one needs a reason for habit do they...", the view from the goblin's bistro table this morning showed some old people chatting and still others reading the newspapers, and even one or two slowly drowning in a glass of white wine like some insect, sighing "...and there are still those who would have me be myself amongst all this external now, but I have this pen and my writing habit serves me well for my defiance, yes a defiance is all it can ever be I suppose but it's still something, and as such, something more me than that drowning away in dailylife..."



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[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere



the goblin's madness continued with the goblin explaining "...in the old age home next to where I live, I always see two types, those "fighting on" types, and the other "letting go" types, but their lesson here goes largely unnoticed by society in general, where they're just ignored, hushed up, and tucked away like this, but all the same, it is something so simple, simply, that if one is lucky to live into retirement in relatively good health, one had better take into account the meaning of remaining mentally active, and socially engaged too, before one gets there...", in fact, the goblin felt that by now he had seen too many unprepared old people mentally rot and flounder in an enviable situation of "retirement" with its rest and freedom, and all simply because they hadn't the slightest idea what to do with themselves there, making the goblin sum things up by saying "...naah, it's not rot in hell as they say, actually between the two extremes it's more like rot in heaven isn't it..."



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[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere



the goblin was never alone here on this thread, nor disappointed, he reassured everyone, "...well, the path between "being misunderstood" and "failing to get it right to oneself" is often a narrow bumpy frustrating one..." the goblin admitted "...but..., ..." and then the goblin couldn't continue his explanation further, as he just had that unexplainable feeling again of "here it comes" now, so the slot just opened its mouth, saying "...look goblin, why not just tell them what mountaineers say as to why they climb mountains, you know that because it's there line, and just leave at that then, which arguably that does sound somewhat more convincing than that other line line of well folks it's actually because I'm mad, don't you agree goblin...", reluctantly the goblin's hand made a slow condoling movement with the mouse towards the "post" button as it then clicked his confession away with an inner release



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[Odinson]

So...



Gordy, melson, scousie etc. are allowed to post in the main forum and yet I do not have that "privilege"...



Melson and gordy have posted worse things than I have and yet I´m the one being isolated..



Wheres the logic in this... There seems to be none.

[fleamailman]

So... Gordy, melson, scousie etc. are allowed to post in the main forum and yet I do not have that "privilege"... Melson and gordy have posted worse things than I have and yet I´m the one being isolated.. Wheres the logic in this... There seems to be none.

("...me, I'm happy here..." replied the goblin, then adding "...though I can't help you really as I'm an unknown here, so I'm just editing my posts to your company I guess, or not if you so decide...", in fact, the goblin wasn't a troll, he didn't like flaming, yet trolls were often good company he felt, that's all)

repost from elsewhere



the goblin apologized for the pause in posting here, he had been fighting the trolls in their forum again, something that had sharpened him on the one hand, but it was the kind of sharpness that came at a cost as he also wanted to produce content too, not just being sharp at foiling barbs with one's wit here, explaining "...no, trolls can be very good for sharpening one's wit, so their forum's "last post" thread is a must for being a real fun fray, testing one's wit and one's readiness too...", and yet, the goblin had to keep his posts varied by being across all kinds of "edit" threads, if only because that same sharpness alone resulted in rather stunted posts, explaining "...when all is said and done livewriting is live in front of one's readers, and what with having no publisher to protect one, nor measurable distance between oneself and one's readers neither, one has to know the ways of trolls to protect oneself, yet that it's a knowledge that has to be tempered in such a way that one doesn't actually become a troll by it in its use..."



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[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere



the goblin was simply recounting here, the scene today of two men dragging the dead stag by their ropes across the snow, and how a clear trail of red marked their slow progress, and of course the people on the mountain-train looking on were so dismayed at it all, so the goblin had to explain something to them, saying "...folks, it's the hunting season where only the males are killed, and where those trappers, since there are no big predators left in the alps today, play the part of the wolves now...", in fact, it was almost too easy to forget that most of the animals of the forest met their deaths at the jaws of other animals, adding "...oh yes, nature might be beautiful and most picturesque too, but it is still cruel all the same..."



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