Newsgroup: it.scienza.geologia
Titolo: VELIKOVSKY vs. SCUMBAGS OF SCIENCE

 Polar

chap amongst you all who found anything of any value on his own !!!
Au Contraire, Mssr. Deekhed!  Why, just Saturday, I was doing my
laundry, and discovered a $50 bill in my pants pocket, and I WASN'T
EVEN MISSING ONE!
So, there.
P.S. - You are cordially invited to gobble my knob, at your earliest
convenience.  Thank you.

 So, there.
Are you *SURE* they were your pants?

I suspect that you, like Velikovsky, have suffered brain rot due to
your practive of turduspiciny and coprophagy.  At least, try to
believe something believable, not an obvious pile of B.S.!
And, please try to keep on the topics of Amateur Astronomy when in an
amateur astronomy newsgroup, and avoid crank theories, exploded
pseudoscience, and extreme bullshit.
Thanks.

your practive of turduspiciny and coprophagy. 
It seems that the people MOST virulently against Velikovsky
are those who HAVEN'T read anything he wrote.
       The truth is out there,
 
    but most people simply ignore it.

 EVEN MISSING ONE!
An "exotic" dancer once told me that Alaskan men would tip just about
anything that moved, but this sorta takes the cake.
-- 
 Much like a great set of tits, a healthy horsepower curve forgives a
 multitude of sins...
  -- David Ryder on the Harley V-Rod


dropped trou in alt.fan.art-bell and left the following steaming pile:

They sure looked like my pants.  I'm a HugeFatBastard, so any pants
that *look* like mine, stand a pretty good chance of actually *being*
mine.

are those who HAVEN'T read anything he wrote.
And people who have functioning brains.

anything that moved, but this sorta takes the cake.
Shit, I never thought of that.  Maybe I worked a bachelorette party,
and don't remember.  Hell, there's enough of me to work two
bachelorette parties, AT THE SAME TIME.

,
vgor...@pobox.alaska.net
 wrote:

A dyke pal o'er on Vashon, happily "married" to another gorgeous gal for
about eight years now, used to subscribe to a macho faggy magazine which I
think was called BEARS, big plumbers-cracked belly-scratchin hairy-assed
working class dudes posing very sexy. I always thought they should do a
companion zine called Huge Fat Bastards. I mean, there's a reason huge fat
bastards frequently have devoted good-lookin' wives, but scrawny weasils
can only find depressed chain-smoking alchies who want a separate bed, if
not merely girlfriends who come with bicycle tire pumps.
-paghat the ratgirl
-- 
'Some people never learn - some never intended to.' -C. Hitchens
Visit the Garden of Paghat the Ratgirl:
http://www.angelfire.com/grrl/paghat/gardenhome.html#top

-paghat the ratgirl
We can do the alphabet with our fat tongues.  Scrawny guys can't do
that.
Dr.Postman USPS, MBMC, BsD;    "Disgruntled, But Unarmed"
Member,Board of Directors of afa-b, SKEP-TI-CULT® member #15-51506-253.
You can email me at: jamie_eckles(at)
hotmail.com
"Sue the spandex pants off of them. And not just for the hundred thousand
dollar kick back I will be recieving for introducing you to my lawyer. 
Do it for the thank you sex I will administer thereafter."
     -Batmanuel

that.
Us BigFatBastards can't rely on looks, to get us, umm, "stuff", if you
get my meaning...