Loth though we are to ridicule 'leafies' and their disgusting yet essentially harmless vegetable-costume paraphilia, they continue to turn up at the Riddled Research Laboratory -- during work hours when we are debating serious questions such as who ate the last milk-chocolate Hob-Nob in the tea room -- pestering us with their fulsomely eager offers to be guinea-pigs for the Riddled Evolvamat in any experiments we might conduct on photosynthesis in higher vertebrates. As if we would ever experiment on human subjects without the proper clearance from the Ethics Committee, which I think is tigris this month.
Unsolicited, it emerges that leafies feel they are somehow spiritually plants at heart, like cross-kingdom otherkin. It is worse than species dysphoria syndrome.
I blame Duncan Lunan for a lot of this. Lunan has a theory that the Green Children of Woolpit had been created by genetic-engineering aliens on a tidal-locked planet in some distant solar system, only to be teleported to Earth "due to malfunction in a matter transmitter" WHICH CAN HAPPEN TO ANYONE. He has also traced their descendents. So inevitably our visitors turn out to be carrying a copy of Lunan's genealogy but you can't say "family tree" because TRIGGER.
This all sounds to me like age-inappropriate leafy porn and I AM DISGUSTED.
Bonus Leafy Porn!
Human photosynthesis, floricranial implants, or leafy viffing cosplay? Really we don't want to know.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
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"due to malfunction in a matter transmitter"
I can't believe that matters.
Margaret Atwood totally rocks though.
... beside one of the wolf pits that gave the village its name.
And the village was named "Woolpit".
Dysphoria. It's everywhere.
Why, and I ask this knowing little of the rural heartland bless their cotton socks, would a village have two wolf pits?
"Oh" people might say "We need two wolf pits in our village, what with the prevalence of tax collectors and mendicant salespersons".
Later they would wonder "Why are there no young people in this village? We have two wolf pits and the wolves are fat as butter and sleek as silk, but no toddlers. It is a mystery". They would furrow their honest brows and go off to the hum'rous vegetable display.
"due to malfunction in a matter transmitter" WHICH CAN HAPPEN TO ANYONE.
Anyone that dries their socks on the interstitial molecular matrix, not looking at anyone in particular.
Did somebody say TRIGGER?
~
who ate the last milk-chocolate Hob-Nob in the tea room
Yeah, that was me.
I have no remorse.
Their events call for formal attire.
I shall don my Ghillie Suit...
Since no one else will.
Send them all to Bas Lag where they belong.
when I hear the word "Agriculture"
Only if nobody's paying.
Fantastico articolo.
One Q.: oh, what is that lady of the tomato headdress (picture #5) wearing on her upper arm?
Harrogate grinned uneasily. They tried to get me for beast, beast…
- Bestiality?
- Yeah. But my lawyer told them a watermelon wasnt no beast. He was a smart son of a bitch.
- Oh boy, said Suttree.
I have no remorse.
fish misspelled 'remoras'.
Gone are the days when he'd receive a good battering for that.
I hope Substance is not trying to set VS going again with these watermelon references.
On 6 February 1995, a document titled the "Elven Nation Manifesto" was posted to Usenet, including the groups alt.pagan and alt.magick. On Usenet itself, the document was universally panned and considered to be either a troll or an attempt to frame an innocent party.
You know how those elfses and trolls get along.
beside one of the wolf pits that gave the village its name.
And the village was named "Woolpit".
A sheep in wolf's pit.
Oh. So there is a sheep in the pit and the wolf is stupid enough to jump in the pit to get the sheep? Yet a wolf can change into grandma's clothes.
That was just for comfort.
This little green man sounds surprisingly like Tom Waits:
http://youtu.be/v5CAlE9nxn0
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