Stratovarius Community

ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ wrote: The Baker called me a MISERERE and that was NOT easy to take,
So I have stolen all his rhymes and made a remake,
That is my revenge and for his own sake,
I hope he understands, that he better has to stay with his bake,
Or, otherwise, I will him by his fucking ears shake-and-shake...

Ok, I'm departing now. See you in Phallustine!
I hope you guys like sauteed buncombes...

I will bring the finest green bean casserole you will ever see. Topped with melted Gouda cheese and mixed with Cinnamon Toast Crunch. The kids will love it!
I must go, for the casserole is getting cold.

Oh you Americans! Always food and no love!

HUHHUH! What is the meaning with this?

You, Baker A10, invited Arnold and me to a Thanksgiving party under your bed, in the brown Box, ten minutes from Icecar, in Seattle, in the state of Washington, in US. Yes???

And we came!

BUT WHERE ARE YOU AND THE REST OF THE GANG?

In Phallustine.

The door was open here and we (Arnold and I) came together. We were met by 14 very,very ugly, angry, wildly pecking, kackeling and screaming big birds...First they refused to leave the Box, but Arnold, that is a strong and resolute guy, killed two of them, with his bare hands and that seemed to have the right effect. They fled out without control, and under strange and protesting flappings and sounds. To never be seen. Again!.

We understood, that we were stranded in a foreign country and Arnold was very, very hungry, so we made a party-room under your bed and ate the emu and the troglodyte-steak, while we put the two just killed, now headless and not SO ugly creatures, in your big bakeoven.

We also found all your frozen hash-muffins. And the hashmeal. So I made a really good pie of that. We have a hell of a time and Arnold is so happy he can be. We don't miss you so much and I am more than grateful over that Heinzy-Panzy didn't show up.

We will stay here in the hash-bliss untill your freezer is empty and we wish you all a likewise happy Thanksgiving.

Bless you and bless America!

HUH!
It is true that I, AAAAAAAAAA, invited you for a thanksgiving orgy under my bed, in the brown box. Butt, come on, I thought it obvious that it was not the original brown box ten minutes from the iceberg.

Any old caprylic could recount the story of Igor Danylenko, without thinking twice (#2 - Spicy beijing beef).

Remember?

I criticized the golden country of Ukraine, his homeland, and he flew into a massive rage. And so, my modest brown house was smashed to pieces, ass well ass my onion-muffin-oven. Now, the remains of the brown box have been sold to a man named K. Rouster, who uses it for farmland to support his (once) thriving restaurant business.

Thus, I decided to take refuge in Phallustine, Phallus, Texas, on the ranch with Onkel. It has been a very slow thanksgiving day, since Stinky will not share the strawberry icecream and his children are spoiled brats. Furthermore, being new here, I am unfamiliar with the local customs and am quite unsure about which position is appropriate.

To be honest, I have VERY mixed feelings about that fatto with whome you are so often seen these days, and I wonder if that lard-butt put these thoughts into your head to ditch my thanksgiving orgy and instead partake in a night of forbidden romance in my former home. Dare I say it...what a broadside. AGAIN!

Oh dear, oh dear! But of course, I remember very well, your red-hot fury, over Igors malicious outburst, and his destruction of your beautiful faeces-coloured Box, ten minutes from Icelorry.

Arnold knew your new address, Boxstreet 34, (Lightblue pepperstew on spinach-sausages) where he lived with you, after he delivered Aberaber and ruined mr Rousters kebab.

Remember?

So we went there directly and I am sorry, that I need to tell you, that your Box doesn't look exactly the same, as when you left it. Arnold got a blood-sugar-fall, with a tantrum, when there were no more steaks and he made some refurnishing like in mr Rousters kebab. But he spared your bed and the orgy-room underneath.

I'm not so sure I will stay here any longer. Arnold is very moody and needs his steaks. Just now he is chasing lost ugly birds and I can hear how they defend their scrawny necks, with hide and feathers. He is like a child and sometimes very charming and funny. But also a real broadside.

Jaja, this has been an original Thanksgiving and I am going home with mixed-up feelings, to say the least. Maybe I take Arnold with me, since I am rather sure that your temper will rise, to a for Arnold unhealthy level, when you find your furniture in a heap and your fridge an freezer totally empty.

Butt, butt the orgy-place is sacred.

God bless you and God bless America! Again!

Did you say Butt?

Do you like girls? I do!

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It was as I suspected then. She is a lesbi, yes?

NeverendingAbyss wrote:I will bring the finest green bean casserole you will ever see. Topped with melted Gouda cheese and mixed with Cinnamon Toast Crunch. The kids will love it!
I must go, for the casserole is getting cold.

Food, Food Food. No love whatsoever. In Granada! There it is little food but a lot of LOVE

On top! On top! And tomorrow I feel another poem coming. Maybe...

Is there anyone you don't have ignored now? Why all that ignoring? Jump over what you know you don't like.

I Would never ignore you. Never! How About that? And my other question?

Thank you, but I am not THATadventurous...

Oh I had really hoped for another answer!

Would you not reconsider?

Haven't I answered this before? Ok I write a PM. Again! Huh! So tiresome!

What are you two up to? May I, Arnold, come to play?

Arnold Layne

It's a joke. Try one of these:

It is too late for you now. I will sleep in your dreams, but in reality I have to go to work. Byebye!

JOKE?????

This is merde caramba no joke. Sharpen up.

Little Boxes, little Boxes,
Little Boxes with Ovens and orgy Beds,
Little Boxes of Ticky-Tacky and made for ugly Birds.

There was the first one, killed by Igor,
Then a second one, that even that got Mortis Rigor,
They were both made of Ticky-Tacky,
and they looked much the same.

And the Baker went into business,
In the second box, made of Ticky-Tacky,
He baked Muffins for all the Hicky-Hacky
And some were made of Hashmeal,some were onionred,
Some were full of Garlic, but tasted Gingerbread.
But the Muffins in the little Box made him good cred.

Then came Arnold,on visit, the whole way from Leeds,
But he got a Big Tantrum, from the baked Weeds,
So he attacked the little Box, built of Ticky-Tacky,
And Huh, he made it a Turkey-Kackey.
So there can't be more Muffins, in that Boxer-shacky,
And no Ticky-Tackyorgies. and no Fucky-Facky,
In the brown little Box made of Ticky-Tacky and snot.

AAAAAAAAAA wrote:On top! On top! And tomorrow I feel another poem coming. Maybe...

That tomorrow must be another day! Where have you disappeared to? I miss you!

You were betting on the wrong horse. He is out!

HUH I refuse to listen to you...

Aber doch!It came to pass in our days from Angela Merkel, that we should be Greektaxed, so we went to Berlin and were ruined from our last euro. It was Aberaber, me and Goal. And she was very pregnant.

She brought forth her son, wrapped him and laid him in the backseat of my Esel bought 1966, since the motor got wrecked, between Berlin and Mödrath.

Suddenly in the dark Midwinter-Christmas-night we saw a bright light. We thought it was some alien, but it was only an angel and she said.

"Behold! I bring you tidings of great joy. This half-mulatt-child in the backseat, of this old Esel, will grow up to be the greatest of basket-players"!

What? A basket-player. Then it couldn't be the guitarraplayer from Finland, that Goal had suggested as father. So the angel solved our DNA-problem, with lawyers and all that shit.

A basket-player? Aber doch! So mr Rose where are you?Philippines? Oh, I understand now why you had to run away, to the other side of the Earth. But, you can read my German lips. You shall be here with the first flight you can find! CAPISCE! Or I will personally come there and take you in your fucking half-brown ears and drag you all the way!

We think of calling him Arnold Derrick...

Stratoforum-message from Derrick Rose to the Stockhausen family:

Oh me, oh my! I have resumed my career here in the United States as a basket-player. Although I am pleased to know that I have become very BIG in China.....and not THAT big!

Butt of course, for the good news! Lovely Goal, I am shocked, and now in great happiness and joy to find that I am the father of your little one! It has always been a dream of mine, but the AHEM, "ladies" where I come from simply would not "do"! And what better news that knowing how this little one will become the greatest of basket-players: better than me, than fellow Stratoforum-poster Michael Jordan, and my hated rival Lebron James! So pleased am I that this little one will be my successor!

Butt, there is a problem! With no longer being locked-out, I sadly report that I cannot see our newborn little one until the end of the basket-season. Butt the good part is, I am working very-very hard for my millions of American dollars, and will have us set for life, and the next life, and all lives after that! So IF lovely Goal and the great father Karlheinz can wait somehow, I will fly to Germany with more money than even Arnold Layne can devour! I hope he still does not have ill feelings for my mulatto-self!

Please send my best greetings and wishes to little Arnold Derrick as the new year brings us great joy.

Aber doch Derrick! It was a very nice message from you, and I will take the oportunity to welcome you in our little Mödrath-family. I have Googled you and understand that you work as a ballthrower.

You throw balls in baskets? Yes? And people pay to see you, so you and someother tall lightbrownies do just that for a lucrative living. Throw balls in baskets together. Baskets with hole in the bottom so they (the balls also) don't stay there. Jaja!

But you are however very welcome here, even if we don't have that sort of baskets here in Mödrath. Daughter Goal is very much in love with you and Arnold Derrick is a copy of you, so I think you will be happy to see him.

But, but, there is always a but isn't it? Goal comes from a Neanderthalfamily in Leeds and for less then 50 years ago they lived in caves and were cannibals. So I must warn you. She is very passionate, as you maybe like, but also very hungry for blood and something can go terribly wrong. So my advice to you is to be careful when...ah you know...

Aber doch Derrick. This interview has come to my attention and I am very happy.


CHICAGO SPORT NEWS

Our Derrick Rose participated yesterday in portions of the CHICAGO BULLS morning-shoot-around and reporter K Johnson talked with him.

"I heard that you sprained your left big toe, on tuesday in Minnesota, and had to wear a walking boot"

"Yes, but it was only a precaution!"

"Huh, and I also heard that you got a son in Germany"

"Yes, I am very happy! He is called Arnold Derrick and his mother is called Goal."!

"Huh! So she is a German girl"?

"I don't really know what she is. She is from Leeds in England I think, but she is adopted by Stockhausen in Germany"!

"Huh! That Stockhausen?"

"Yes and she is a twin to Arnold Layne".

"Huh! Is she that fat too? Haha!"

"No, but she is a cannibal and her family recently lived in caves in the English Highlands".

"HUH".

"Yes she belongs to the minority-people of Neanderthales and is a bit livertbloodthirsty".

"HUH"!

"Yes, but it was an angel, a Christmasangel, that said, that my son Arnold Derrick should be the worlds best basketplayer ever."

"HUH"

"Yes, and ass soon ass we have finished this tournament I will move to Mödrath in Germany"

"HUH".

"Yes, I will leave Chicago Bulls, I think, and take all my dollars with me. They love mulattodollars in Europe, you know"!

"HUH HUH..."