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RogerTheElegantGentleman
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Name: Roger Osterberg Country: United States Metro: Knoxville Birthday: 5/19/1990 Gender: Male
Interests: Ostrich-back riding, fine ettiquette, smelling garments left at the laundromat by petite lasses, & dueling (with pistols, not gay Yu-Gi-Oh cards.) Expertise: Being refined. Occupation: Other Industry: Other
Message: message meEmail: email me Website: visit my website AIM: RAT HAT 22
Member Since:
7/3/2005
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| [swings in on a Chandelier]
Hello toungers of the dead language that is xanga! I've been thinking... I've neglected you guys so badly ever since I joined "myspace" that if you were my own children, I'd be in a federal penitentiary by now. I sat in my washroom contemplating the ways to convince you not to disown me, I though what would be better than a calendar of sexually risque photos of myself! But lo, by the time I finished their production, I decided to keep them for myself. I'm looking at them right now....
egads, "snarl" to you too, Roger....
Anyway, I decided to show you guys the preceding instead. It's the Christmas story I wrote last year but never posted. Enjoy it........
oh Roger, you're so bad....
THE FOLLOWING TALE HAS BEEN MADE POLITICALLY CORRECT BY THE I.S.E.O., THE INTERNATIONAL SOCIETY OF THE EASILY OFFENDED.
bbbbLLLLRAAGG....*Cough *cough, *wheeze, Hi There! `Tis I Roger "Commodore of Soul" the Elegant Gentleman. Sorry I've been gone; I was in a chemically-induced coma, & when I awoke, it was the [UNSPECIFIED HOLIDAY] season! So I'd like to Bestow on you a Fable slathered in [UNSPECIFIED HOLIDAY] whimsy; it's called, "The Birth of [RELIGIOUS FIGURE]".
Once upon a time, in mystical place called [WHEREVER IT'S APPROPRIATE], [RELIGIOUS FIGURE 1] sent a message to the [GROUP] that a savior would soon be born in the city of [WHEREVER IT'S APPROPRIATE] as the child of [WOMAN'S NAME] & [MAN'S NAME], & that [HE/SHE/OTHER] would be the [KING/QUEEN/OTHER] of the [GROUP]. The [GROUP] rejoiced, for soon their savior, [RELIGIOUS FIGURE 2], would come to purge them of their [SINS/BAD KARMA/OTHER]. Around the same time as this good news, the King of [WHEREVER IT'S APPROPRIATE], King [HISTORICAL FIGURE], ordered a census, & said everyone must go back to their hometown to be cataloged. [MAN'S NAME] & [WOMAN'S NAME] returned to [MAN'S NAME]'s hometown of [SIGNIFICANT CITY] on a [FARM ANIMAL]. To their dismay, when they arrived,[SIGNIFICANT CITY] was already full of other people who too had to return. What were [MAN'S NAME] & [WOMAN'S NAME] to do? Since there were no Inns left, so they were forced to sleep in a [FARM ANIMAL STORAGE CUBICLE]. Little were they expecting, but baby [RELIGIOUS FIGURE 2] was born right there in the [FARM ANIMAL STORAGE CUBICLE]! All of the [EMPLOYMENT CHALLENGED ANIMAL MANAGERS] came in to see the baby. They were followed by the three [INTRIGUED EDUCATED PEOPLE], bearing gifts of [MONETARY THING], [GOOD-SCENTED THING 1], & [GOOD-SCENTED THING 2]. It was such a joyous occasion, [RELIGIOUS FIGURE 1'S ASSOCIATES] sang:
"Hark, the herald [RELIGIOUS FIGURE 1'S ASSOCIATES] sing,
Glory to the newborn [KING/QUEEN/OTHER]."
~
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| This is your savior to-be, Roger the Elegant Gentleman. I know I haven't updated in quite some time. "Why?", you ask?
"Does the coyote sing his song to the cacti then turn to the Earth & say, 'Why?'"
No, he does not.
"When the sun quickens to roll over the sky on the morrow, will he then turn to the Ursa & ask, 'Why?'"
That
would also be a no, but I thought my readers would like to know that I
have a "Myspace" account now. Come on by & see how sinfully
charming I am in real life! My URL is "www.myspace.com/squid_arson"
"When the monk & the priest run out of witty things to say, do they then go home & drink?"
~R
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"`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe; All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe" | | |
| My ever precedent Butler, Mr. Quakenshire, has advised me to do another
intriguing-picture/poem-excerpt entry, so here's the bacon:
 
"...you are the one who ennobled human nature
to the extent that he did not disdain,
Who was its maker, to make himself man"
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| Hello readers! I feel I must clarify that last post. It was a funny
thing you understand, a few days ago upon tap-dancing the hallways
& wayhalls of Elegant Gentleman manor, I discovered I was out of
any variety of usual food-stuffs, & the only thing left for a
fatigued gentleman to consume was some raw liver down in the fallout
shelter (which isn't actually a bomb shelter, but a place I run &
hide in whenever that awful "Fallout-Boy" is playing on the
Radio-machine. But anyway....). So I noisily ate said tainted liver,
which started to kick in while I was listening to my "Learn Russian In
24 Hours!" tapes on my walkman. I staggered quite ungracefully with
glazed eyes & stuttered sentence fragments until I found my butler,
Mr.Quakenshire. Somewhere in my aray of shattered pleas for help,
Quakenshire must have assumed I was just being a quote, "Grumpy
Gripester", & sat me done in front of a Felix the Cat DVD until I
cooled off a trifle. The combination of Russian gibberish in my ear,
Felix the cat in my eye, & tainted liver in my stomach put me in
what my psychiatrist would call a, "Furled Haze." Well, one thing led
to another & I accessed my xanga, & the rest is history. Glad I
could clear that up! Toodless! | | |
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