Questionnaire - How Did You Find Out About Machine Nation?

Ard-Taoiseach wrote:

Kate P wrote:

cookiemonster wrote:

SeathrúnCeitinn wrote:

cactus flower wrote:

All pretty hard-core, eh?

If porn perusers google 'pretty hard-core' will they get Machine Nation now?

You've not read the Sex forum lately, have you?

I do believe I've gone blind

That link(perhaps blessedly) doesn't work for me.

Sorry, It's fixed now.

cookiemonster wrote:

Ard-Taoiseach wrote:

Kate P wrote:

cookiemonster wrote:

SeathrúnCeitinn wrote:

cactus flower wrote:

All pretty hard-core, eh?

If porn perusers google 'pretty hard-core' will they get Machine Nation now?

You've not read the Sex forum lately, have you?

I do believe I've gone blind

That link(perhaps blessedly) doesn't work for me.

Sorry, It's fixed now.

*fumes* You will pay for this indignity, you monster of cookies!

Ard-Taoiseach wrote:

cookiemonster wrote:

Ard-Taoiseach wrote:

Kate P wrote:

cookiemonster wrote:

SeathrúnCeitinn wrote:

cactus flower wrote:

All pretty hard-core, eh?

If porn perusers google 'pretty hard-core' will they get Machine Nation now?

You've not read the Sex forum lately, have you?

I do believe I've gone blind

That link(perhaps blessedly) doesn't work for me.

Sorry, It's fixed now.

*fumes* You will pay for this indignity, you monster of cookies!

Served you right for wanting to look at the sex forum, you dirty divil ya!

cookiemonster wrote:

Ard-Taoiseach wrote:

cookiemonster wrote:

Ard-Taoiseach wrote:

Kate P wrote:

cookiemonster wrote:

SeathrúnCeitinn wrote:

cactus flower wrote:

All pretty hard-core, eh?

If porn perusers google 'pretty hard-core' will they get Machine Nation now?

You've not read the Sex forum lately, have you?

I do believe I've gone blind

That link(perhaps blessedly) doesn't work for me.

Sorry, It's fixed now.

*fumes* You will pay for this indignity, you monster of cookies!

Served you right for wanting to look at the sex forum, you dirty divil ya!

cookie, can you explain to me the miracle of how you get people to believe what you say ?

cookiemonster wrote:

Ard-Taoiseach wrote:

cookiemonster wrote:

Ard-Taoiseach wrote:

Kate P wrote:

cookiemonster wrote:

SeathrúnCeitinn wrote:

cactus flower wrote:

All pretty hard-core, eh?

If porn perusers google 'pretty hard-core' will they get Machine Nation now?

You've not read the Sex forum lately, have you?

I do believe I've gone blind

That link(perhaps blessedly) doesn't work for me.

Sorry, It's fixed now.

*fumes* You will pay for this indignity, you monster of cookies!

Served you right for wanting to look at the sex forum, you dirty divil ya!

Excuse me, I am not a dirty divil, I was merely curious and I will not have you defaming my inquiring mind with insinuations.

cactus flower wrote:

cookiemonster wrote:

Ard-Taoiseach wrote:

cookiemonster wrote:

Ard-Taoiseach wrote:

Kate P wrote:

cookiemonster wrote:

SeathrúnCeitinn wrote:

cactus flower wrote:

All pretty hard-core, eh?

If porn perusers google 'pretty hard-core' will they get Machine Nation now?

You've not read the Sex forum lately, have you?

I do believe I've gone blind

That link(perhaps blessedly) doesn't work for me.

Sorry, It's fixed now.

*fumes* You will pay for this indignity, you monster of cookies!

Served you right for wanting to look at the sex forum, you dirty divil ya!

cookie, can you explain to me the miracle of how you get people to believe what you say ?

Because cookie is a wonderful, beautiful, furry paragon of God's wondrous creation.

Off topic lads. The Sibin would be a better place for this kind of ladd-ey banter

My story is similar to that of Slim Buddha's.....
I saw a link on p.ie and clicked on it.
I don't post on p.ie at all though, only read it. As someone said recently (can't remember who), it can be good for reading sometimes in the same way tabloids can.

AfricanDave wrote:

My story is similar to that of Slim Buddha's.....
I saw a link on p.ie and clicked on it.
I don't post on p.ie at all though, only read it. As someone said recently (can't remember who), it can be good for reading sometimes in the same way tabloids can.

Were you reading p.ie for a while without posting? (i'm assuming you posted at least once ...) I wonder do many people do that - read only. Do you ever read the propertypin?

Auditor #9 wrote:

AfricanDave wrote:

My story is similar to that of Slim Buddha's.....
I saw a link on p.ie and clicked on it.
I don't post on p.ie at all though, only read it. As someone said recently (can't remember who), it can be good for reading sometimes in the same way tabloids can.

Were you reading p.ie for a while without posting? I wonder do many people do that - read only. Do you ever read the propertypin?

I read the propertypin on a regular basis bit don't post there at all.

cookiemonster wrote:

Auditor #9 wrote:

AfricanDave wrote:

My story is similar to that of Slim Buddha's.....
I saw a link on p.ie and clicked on it.
I don't post on p.ie at all though, only read it. As someone said recently (can't remember who), it can be good for reading sometimes in the same way tabloids can.

Were you reading p.ie for a while without posting? I wonder do many people do that - read only. Do you ever read the propertypin?

I read the propertypin on a regular basis bit don't post there at all.

I do too. Can you imagine a series of nested remarks on the Pin like yourself and ArdTs above? If you log on there is "The Piston Broke" forum inside The Pin you know - you might have some banter there like that above. Might.

I havn't read the property pin, but i might.
I have been reading p.ie for about 2 years, maybe a bit less. It really has declined in quality. I have registered there, but rarely log on and I might have posted twice.

It was in the dark bleak days of the p.ie orphanage. I wandered aimlessly through pages and pages of t'internet looking for a blessed soothing replacement. I happened upon boards.ie, but though it looked, and dare I say felt similar to the mothering caress of p.ie it was different. For though it sparked my filial piety as p.ie once had, its maternity was that of an abusive alcoholic matriarch, smacking my mouth when i dared to speak out of order. Once again I deemed myself an orphan, but an orphan in a wicked step-mothers house. Then, as one day, as the sun splits in through a lifted shutter, a flash of hope blinded me, the gentle hand of a socal worker, katep's extended and took me out of that barren. She knew of a home, a blessed home, a homely home, a better home, in which I could be nurtured and loved and not abandoned. I accepted tentatively, my soul had been wounded before, would it be again? This new foster mother was different, it too had all the appearances of p.ie, but a limitless warmth that nourished my creative expression. I flowered there, but alas it was like mist on a mountain, beautiful, serene but transient. We were to move on again. Once again, I was seized with apprehension, the fragrant maternality can only be repeated once surely. The new home, however, was all I had hoped. The matriarch as strong and as confident as ever p.ie was. The foster siblings mature, respectful encouraging. I felt at ease. This would do, I thought, this would do.

However, the fateful day came. P.ie had recovered from its bout of illness. She wanted her loved ones back. I threw caution to the wind. Indeed, what could be different? Its maternity was absolute, it was an ingrained quality, the kernel of its existence unchangeable, it was its essence how could it change? However, the illness had changed p.ie. It was no longer in the position to control it's offspring. They ran wild, and roughshod over eachother. I sat despondent. Where to? It then occurred to me, why not return to where I was happiest, by endure the tortures of familiar bullies, when I could favour the serenity of new friends? I then threw down my anger, and walked. Returned to the bossom of Machine Nation, and forsook my inheritance. Here I found peace, here I truly found my home.

Or eh.... whatever.

riadach wrote:

It was in the dark bleak days of the p.ie orphanage. I wandered aimlessly through pages and pages of t'internet looking for a blessed soothing replacement. I happened upon boards.ie, but though it looked, and dare I say felt similar to the mothering caress of p.ie it was different. For though it sparked my filial piety as p.ie once had, it's maternity was that of an abusive alcoholic matriarch, smacking my mouth when i dared to raise my mouth above a certain vocal range. Once again I was an orphan, but an orphan in a wicked step-mothers house. Then, as one day, as the sun splits in through lifted blind, a flash of hope blinded me, the gentle hand of a socal worker, katep's extended and took me out of that wicked place. She knew of a home, a blessed home, a homely home, a better home, in which I could be nurtured and loved and not abandoned. I accepted tentatively, I had been disappointed before, would I be again. This new foster mother was different, it too had all the appearances of p.ie, but a limitless warmth that nourished my creative expression. I flowered there, but alas with all good things, it must come to an end. We were to move on again. Once again, I was seized with apprehension, the fragrant maternality can only be repeated once surely. The new home, however, was all it appeared. The matriarch as strong and as confident as ever p.ie. The foster siblings mature, respectful encouraging. I felt at ease, I had found a new home.

However, the fateful day came. P.ie had recovered from it's bout of illness. She wanted her children back. I threw caution to the wind. Indeed, what could be different? It's maternity was absolute, it was an ingrained quality, the kernel of its existence unchangeable, it was its essence how could it change? However, the illness had changed p.ie. It was no longer in the position to control it's offspring. They ran wild, and roughshod over eachother. I sat despondent. Where to? It then occurred to me, why not return to where I was happiest, by endure the tortures of familiar bullies, when I could favour the serenity of new friends? I then through down my anger, and walked. Returned to the bossom of Machine Nation, and forsook my inheritance. Here I found peace, here I truly found my home.

Or eh.... whatever.

riadach...a monologue par excellence. Bravo.

Dug this out of my email - dated 6th March

Quote :

DO NOT REPLY TO THIS EMAIL!
***************************

Dear EvotingMachine0,

You have received a new private message at boards.ie from Auditor #9, entitled "Re: Refugee status available here".

To read the original version, respond to, or delete this message, you must log in here:
http://www.boards.ie/vbulletin/private.php

This is the message that was sent:
***************

---Quote (Originally by EvotingMachine0)---
Hi Audi,

Temporary shelter for P.ie refugees here http://silverpond.eu/refuge/

Might see you there.

EvotingMachine0197.
---End Quote---

Those boards mods are like the mad fellas in Mad Max - no mercy at all. See you there later for a bitch
***************

Again, please do not reply to this email. You must go to the following page to reply to this private message:
http://www.boards.ie/vbulletin/private.php

All the best,
boards.ie

Funny

Ard-Taoiseach wrote:

riadach wrote:

It was in the dark bleak days of the p.ie orphanage. I wandered aimlessly through pages and pages of t'internet looking for a blessed soothing replacement. I happened upon boards.ie, but though it looked, and dare I say felt similar to the mothering caress of p.ie it was different. For though it sparked my filial piety as p.ie once had, it's maternity was that of an abusive alcoholic matriarch, smacking my mouth when i dared to raise my mouth above a certain vocal range. Once again I was an orphan, but an orphan in a wicked step-mothers house. Then, as one day, as the sun splits in through lifted blind, a flash of hope blinded me, the gentle hand of a socal worker, katep's extended and took me out of that wicked place. She knew of a home, a blessed home, a homely home, a better home, in which I could be nurtured and loved and not abandoned. I accepted tentatively, I had been disappointed before, would I be again. This new foster mother was different, it too had all the appearances of p.ie, but a limitless warmth that nourished my creative expression. I flowered there, but alas with all good things, it must come to an end. We were to move on again. Once again, I was seized with apprehension, the fragrant maternality can only be repeated once surely. The new home, however, was all it appeared. The matriarch as strong and as confident as ever p.ie. The foster siblings mature, respectful encouraging. I felt at ease, I had found a new home.

However, the fateful day came. P.ie had recovered from it's bout of illness. She wanted her children back. I threw caution to the wind. Indeed, what could be different? It's maternity was absolute, it was an ingrained quality, the kernel of its existence unchangeable, it was its essence how could it change? However, the illness had changed p.ie. It was no longer in the position to control it's offspring. They ran wild, and roughshod over eachother. I sat despondent. Where to? It then occurred to me, why not return to where I was happiest, by endure the tortures of familiar bullies, when I could favour the serenity of new friends? I then through down my anger, and walked. Returned to the bossom of Machine Nation, and forsook my inheritance. Here I found peace, here I truly found my home.

Or eh.... whatever.

riadach...a monologue par excellence. Bravo.

Hardly, in fairness. It needs work, I posted it too soon.

He he, nice one riadach. It would be a lonely and unpoetic place without you.

riadach wrote:

Hardly, in fairness. It needs work, I posted it too soon.

You can get medication for that now.

riadach wrote:

It was in the dark bleak days of the p.ie orphanage. I wandered aimlessly through pages and pages of t'internet looking for a blessed soothing replacement. I happened upon boards.ie, but though it looked, and dare I say felt similar to the mothering caress of p.ie it was different. For though it sparked my filial piety as p.ie once had, its maternity was that of an abusive alcoholic matriarch, smacking my mouth when i dared to speak out of order. Once again I deemed myself, but an orphan in a wicked step-mothers house. Then, as one day, as the sun splits in through a lifted shutter, a flash of hope blinded me, the gentle hand of a socal worker, katep's extended and took me out of that barren. She knew of a home, a blessed home, a homely home, a better home, in which I could be nurtured and loved and not abandoned. I accepted tentatively, my soul had been wounded before, would it be again? This new foster mother was different, it too had all the appearances of p.ie, but a limitless warmth that nourished my creative expression. I flowered there, but alas it was like mist on a mountain, beautiful, serene but transient. We were to move on again. Once again, I was seized with apprehension, the fragrant maternality can only be repeated once surely. The new home, however, was all I had hoped. The matriarch as strong and as confident as ever p.ie was. The foster siblings mature, respectful encouraging. I felt at ease. This would do, I thought, this would do.

However, the fateful day came. P.ie had recovered from it's bout of illness. She wanted her progeny back. I threw caution to the wind. Indeed, what could be different? It's maternity was absolute, it was an ingrained quality, the kernel of its existence unchangeable, it was its essence how could it change? However, the illness had changed p.ie. It was no longer in the position to control it's offspring. They ran wild, and roughshod over eachother. I sat despondent. Where to? It then occurred to me, why not return to where I was happiest, by endure the tortures of familiar bullies, when I could favour the serenity of new friends? I then through down my anger, and walked. Returned to the bossom of Machine Nation, and forsook my inheritance. Here I found peace, here I truly found my home.

Or eh.... whatever.

A staggeringly beautiful post riadach. I'm almost in tears...

riadach wrote:

Hardly, in fairness. It needs work, I posted it too soon.

Au contraire, any grammatical inconsistencies and spelling errors speak loudly of the honest and raw power of this treatise.

Ard-Taoiseach wrote:

riadach wrote:

Hardly, in fairness. It needs work, I posted it too soon.

Au contraire, any grammatical inconsistencies and spelling errors speak loudly of the honest and raw power of this treatise.

Or reveal that he typed it with his face.

riadach wrote:

Ard-Taoiseach wrote:

riadach wrote:

It was in the dark bleak days of the p.ie orphanage. I wandered aimlessly through pages and pages of t'internet looking for a blessed soothing replacement. I happened upon boards.ie, but though it looked, and dare I say felt similar to the mothering caress of p.ie it was different. For though it sparked my filial piety as p.ie once had, it's maternity was that of an abusive alcoholic matriarch, smacking my mouth when i dared to raise my mouth above a certain vocal range. Once again I was an orphan, but an orphan in a wicked step-mothers house. Then, as one day, as the sun splits in through lifted blind, a flash of hope blinded me, the gentle hand of a socal worker, katep's extended and took me out of that wicked place. She knew of a home, a blessed home, a homely home, a better home, in which I could be nurtured and loved and not abandoned. I accepted tentatively, I had been disappointed before, would I be again. This new foster mother was different, it too had all the appearances of p.ie, but a limitless warmth that nourished my creative expression. I flowered there, but alas with all good things, it must come to an end. We were to move on again. Once again, I was seized with apprehension, the fragrant maternality can only be repeated once surely. The new home, however, was all it appeared. The matriarch as strong and as confident as ever p.ie. The foster siblings mature, respectful encouraging. I felt at ease, I had found a new home.

However, the fateful day came. P.ie had recovered from it's bout of illness. She wanted her children back. I threw caution to the wind. Indeed, what could be different? It's maternity was absolute, it was an ingrained quality, the kernel of its existence unchangeable, it was its essence how could it change? However, the illness had changed p.ie. It was no longer in the position to control it's offspring. They ran wild, and roughshod over eachother. I sat despondent. Where to? It then occurred to me, why not return to where I was happiest, by endure the tortures of familiar bullies, when I could favour the serenity of new friends? I then through down my anger, and walked. Returned to the bossom of Machine Nation, and forsook my inheritance. Here I found peace, here I truly found my home.

Or eh.... whatever.

riadach...a monologue par excellence. Bravo.

Hardly, in fairness. It needs work, I posted it too soon.

MORE !

Are you going to work on it some more ?
If you are then I would like to give you the first thing our English professor wrote on the board on the lecture theatre in UCG on my first day:

It's = It is

I still use it today

(apparently accountants put something similar regarding CR and DR in their bottom drawer to remind them .. ah that's probably not true. )

Face if your lucky.

cookiemonster wrote:

Ard-Taoiseach wrote:

riadach wrote:

Hardly, in fairness. It needs work, I posted it too soon.

Au contraire, any grammatical inconsistencies and spelling errors speak loudly of the honest and raw power of this treatise.

Or reveal that he typed it with his face.

That's far more likely cookie!

riadach wrote:

Face if your lucky.

My lucky, lucky, five dolla.