Gaius Octavius

What else might one expect from Egyptians :mummy: and Greeks :notworthy: .

Me thanks those who have plied me with compliments galore. This I do, and nothing more.

What, My Lord :notworthy: , in particular, don't you understand? Tis the true story of the bloddy facing bricks of the Palace falling down on the crowns of night wanderers. Get it? Or, do I have to write it in Greek especially for you?

Or, just click on 'Reply' at the message you want to quote. It will pop up and you can edit it if you please. Experiment, using 'Preview Post'.

Natch. Cartoons at 12 (A.M.).

:wub: , no I don't! Remember, I am a god-Consul!

So that I don't haul you :wub: off to the magistrates and sue the pants off of you for defamation of character: "Gaius Octavius: Penguin, Beaver or Sheep Penguins are birds condemned to live out their days on the ground. Unable to fly, their excess energy has no outlet save their creative talents and emotional outbursts. They are poetic and intellectually gifted; and as writers, have no equal. Small to medium sized Warmhearted Unusual Witty Meticulous Interesting Blunt Quixotic Impatient Inscrutable Unpredictable (Penguin) If rodent personalities were rated by their busy and determined demeanors -- the beaver would surely be their king. Small to medium Reliable Ethical Dedicated Punctual Judgmental Miserly Predictable Self absorbed (Beaver) Sheep have no real defense mechanisms other than the safety of numbers. So they huddle in the suburbs with like-minded individuals, pooling resources and raising families. Supportive Family minded Conservative Punctual Inflexible Frugal Gullible Cautious Boring Servile (Sheep)"

You'll get charged for each 'friendly' visit. Bet you wish that it were C.I.C. on the island.

Has this 'record' ever been broken? "The most resilient runner covered 238 kilometers (176 miles) in a day."

I know that this is off topic, but as an American, I can't help but complain that all three stanzas are not sung at public gatherings as I had to when in grammar school. "Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,...." ------------------------ The Red Coats nevermore challenged us, lest we did as the Romans did in the First Punic War. "54-40, or fight."

Twas as cold as a witches breastie dumplings and the Consular dumper was frozen solid.

Sunday last, as I sat sad and dreary at my computer contemplating posts at UNRV, there came a banging, a gentle banging, from the streets below. Twas the garbage men alerting sleeping citizens of the approaching Midnight Hour. This I thought, and nothing more. Then there came a peace shattering tingle from the phone. Me thought a lost and lonely soul seeking solace at the Plutonian shore. This me thought, and nothing more. Twas a fellow dweller in one of the stacked apartments, seeking my omniscient knowledge. "What's going on?", quoth she. "What are you talking about?" quoth me. "Don't you know?, look out of your window below", babbled she. And this I did as she did implore. Behold, there appeared to me squadrons of fire trucks, ambulances, cop cars, and first responders of all sorts all over the the road ways and walk ways. Their lights all flashing; quite a sight. Some building has gone alight, or some cop has been given a fright. This the god-Consul thought. This he thought, and nothing more. Then in the Stygian depths below, the Consul saw that the corps of cops and sundry were at my building's door. Then me thought that there was something more. Me dressed and flew through the apartment door seeking transportation to the lobby floor as me thought it an arson by my ancient enemies of yore. Twas not thus, the doorman did me implore. Twas some facing of the building falling on the unfortunate heads of unwary citizens wandering about in the the Gloom of Night. Thus twas it, and nothing more.

How the Maine went down is still a mystery. Paraphrasing W.R. Hearst: 'Send me the pictures and I'll give you the war'.

If the US didn't win that war, we'd all be eating fish and chips and bowing to a monarch. Ay wot! P.S. We did whip the Red Coats at a cost of about a half dozen of ours.

Try this: Augustus Caesar; E.S. Shuckburgh; Barnes & Noble, 1995.

:notworthy: : Never mind all that twaddle. Rules are made to be broken! Ship in some of that Dogfish Head stuff that you have been pushing before I get it Wednesday. Else send CASH J.R. I've started already. Using Triple Sec to commence festivities. :drunk: Solve the problem of :mummy: before he escapes to the Dark Side of the Moon - again. No pain, just :giljotiini:. Have done with him.

Don't all y'all get it? :bag: Dried leeches are the answer. Thrice a day!

From the British Museum: http://www.thebritishmuseum.ac.uk/compass/...-button=summary

Never nick a pack of Peter Piper's pickled pickles.

Genesios, now! Is that where the mighty muddy Genesee River flows? Where Genny Cream Ale is made from its waters?

Doesn't 'ex' also mean 'without', as in 'ex Caesar'?

Welcome bubbly*pop.

All Y'all or Omnes, as Suits your Bias: Donna Sophia :wub: is back in Old Blightey, as you should have guessed by now. Our all too short sojourn will long be remembered. She :wub: makes one mean lasagne. Her mental acuity is hereby attested to. (Hear that MPC?) Had a maid tend to mundane chores whilst we discussed Rome and such esoterica as suited the moment. The Domus was awash with vodka, Perfect Patented Pertimaxii and, of course, champagne. And Triple Sec during the quiet time. Life was a dream! My Lord :notworthy: , whilst you are at the celebratory arson, please don't forget to include DoL :wub: in the festivities as guest of honour. AoS , Cos., you have to promise the Ladies candy and a ride in your new . They eat that stuff up. As for the guys, who cares? Divi G.O., Cos.