4309

Heruka:
yeah. it's a hoot. if I don't get once in a while, I lose some my ability to be social. it's really bizarre.
(Wed May 7, 2003 - 2:13:53 pm)

Heruka:
I need a smoke.
(Wed May 7, 2003 - 2:17:03 pm)

bela:
Smoke
(Wed May 7, 2003 - 2:23:41 pm)

Heruka:

(Wed May 7, 2003 - 2:26:09 pm)

Heruka:
Ugh! Becky kidnapped Julias son. No!
(Wed May 7, 2003 - 2:27:36 pm)

Heruka:
yeah, I'm going to be putting that wireless keyboard on my lap as I sit on the public toilet.
(Wed May 7, 2003 - 2:32:15 pm)

wireless :
my family tradition is the engineering and maritime disaster industries a few camel jockeys and No chip.
(Wed May 7, 2003 - 2:40:01 pm)

Queenie:
I mowed my own yard, thank you very much.
(Wed May 7, 2003 - 2:40:19 pm)

wireless :

And another thing..
(Wed May 7, 2003 - 2:41:31 pm)

wireless :

That's damn good start Queenie. Saddam, I thought I told you to shut up.
(Wed May 7, 2003 - 2:45:33 pm)

Heruka:
ecuse me, I have to Eurinate.
(Wed May 7, 2003 - 2:48:12 pm)

Heruka:
excuse
(Wed May 7, 2003 - 2:48:18 pm)

wireless :

His Eurin absence has carved a void. A part of him is gone. May he live forever!
(Wed May 7, 2003 - 2:50:35 pm)

Spam you can use!:
get larger nuts and penís, more pleasure, more satisfaction
(Wed May 7, 2003 - 2:52:16 pm)

Heruka:
I'm going to take a nap and have a good cry.
(Wed May 7, 2003 - 2:59:38 pm)

:
Heruka O'Leary opened the doors to his barn and sighed as he surveyed the ranks of potatoes he had gathered over the last few months. Never before, and probably never again, had such a fine array of tatties been brought together in one place. Maris Piper, Golden Wonder, even the lowly Fergal's Green Smudge, all piled one upon the other. Heruka reflected on what his father might have said had he survived to see the day, a great turnip lover who scorned potatoes his mouth would likely have spewed vitriol as was his wont. Even now in his obloquy Heruka raised a smile. A sharp dig in the back as Sergeant Cloffstock shouldered his way past rudely brought him out of his reverie back to the cold sharp light of the current day; caught with his trousers down, so to speak, today was the first day of the rest of his life and a poor life is what he could see stretching before him. Yesterday Lord of Potatoes, today a prisoner of the farm. For six months Heruka had worked his way up the hierarchy of potato pickers on Wilson's farm. From the early days where Big popeyed Tam had pushed him around, through the days when he had won much respect by pulling Big popeyed Tam's wig off and running round the fields with the big bug-eyed lad in tears, to the day when he had become top spud, second only to Potato Boy himself, all now squandered. Wasted because his pride had demanded that no spud was beyond him. Or was it?
(Wed May 7, 2003 - 3:01:43 pm)

:
From that day on Heruka made the most of this event and started to relieve Wilson of more and more of his prized spuds. He soon found that, whilst he could smuggle two or three up the serviceman's entrance, it was possible to juggle 4 or 5 with his testicles with surprising ease. Further practice meant that by the day he could fit more and more into his shorts without compromising himself. The coup de gras was self-castration which allowed even more room for the spuds he liked (not to mention the beatings that Big popeyed Tam got for handing in two testicles he pulled out of the ground as potatoes, that alone was worth the excruciating pain). Now the disappearance of potatoes did not go amiss. Indeed the Eastend of Pillington was put on half rations. Chip shops were closed down due to the failure of their new "specials" which were introduced in a vain effort to continue to rake in large amounts of money whilst selling a poorer, turnip chip. Wilson himself was not pleased. Money was no concern, he'd amassed a great deal of it over the years, but he had standards to maintain and without decent chips to feed the standard bearers things were never going to work out. Or would they?
(Wed May 7, 2003 - 3:09:33 pm)

:
Which brings us back to the beginning of the tale. So it was that after enjoying a prosperous time as one of the top potato pickers in Pillington, Heruka O'Leary squandered his chances of a fine career and will forever be condemned to play second fiddle to the likes of Big popeyed Tam who is dead.
(The camera pans across Herukas' own estate, the fields are empty, the buildings dilapidated, our erstwhile hero looks crestfallen. The military and villagers can be seen exiting in the distance, people are dancing and singing. Wilson is seen handing out bags of chips to everyone, a look of triumph on his face. The camera slowly zooms back in on Heruka as the laughter fades into the background. He raises his head and an evil glint is seen in his eye. Reaching round behind his back and between his legs he parts some layers of flesh, a potato falls to the ground and rolls back and forth several times before coming to a rest. Inside his tunic goes his other hand and beneath his armpit, another spud falls to the ground. The camera pans down to where two spuds lie side by side, Heruka leans back and weeps.

(Wed May 7, 2003 - 3:16:37 pm)

Froupie:
goodness, that is a sorry saga, for sure.
(Wed May 7, 2003 - 3:44:52 pm)

Froupie:
it almost brought a tear to my eurotrashy eye. but not quite.
(Wed May 7, 2003 - 3:45:40 pm)

Decoy:
Heruka is a self starter.
(Wed May 7, 2003 - 3:46:55 pm)

Froupie:
he works himself up into these pointless frenzies.
(Wed May 7, 2003 - 3:47:47 pm)

Decoy:
Mmmm delicious chips.
(Wed May 7, 2003 - 3:48:49 pm)

:

(Wed May 7, 2003 - 3:49:12 pm)

Decoy:
Froupie, are you coming to New York on your tour?
(Wed May 7, 2003 - 3:49:28 pm)

Froupie:
not this time no. maybe next year.
(Wed May 7, 2003 - 3:50:18 pm)

Decoy:
If it pleases you, come to Rochester and see the lilacs. the festival is this weekend.

(Wed May 7, 2003 - 3:56:44 pm)

bela:
Come to Williamsburg and see stupid Italians and dirt.
(Wed May 7, 2003 - 3:57:47 pm)

Froupie:
yeah i'll get the amtrak over. heh.
(Wed May 7, 2003 - 4:00:32 pm)

(Wed May 7, 2003 - 4:36:34 pm)

Hmmm
(Wed May 7, 2003 - 4:43:46 pm)

Queenie:
stupid italians and dirt, eh?
(Wed May 7, 2003 - 4:47:44 pm)

Queenie:
when my guinea pig sneezes, it's damn near the cutest noise ever uttered by any creature the world over.
(Wed May 7, 2003 - 5:07:07 pm)