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By a fortuitous happenstance, I happened to stance upon this forum rather early on, in the first month of its existence, if I'm not mistaken (and I seldom am). In those early, carefree days, we naive, garrulous BOTL's chatted about everything under the sun: the length of our members, the best places to obtain zircon encrusted navel lint pickers, whether the rain was falling on the rhubarbs, and even those dried, rolled-up tobacco leaves that we were constantly incinerating.
Lately; however, I can't help but note a disturbing trend that seems to be taking over the dialogs I've been reading on here.
Typical would be an exchange running something like this:
"I say, olde teapot, what ho we hie ourselves hither 'round high tea at Barnswallow's for a nip and a tuck?"
"Barnswallow's? Is that Ye Oulde Shouppe at the corner of St. Swithins and Fartingtoad Road?"
"Nay, olde swinepotter, you've obviously gone 'round the hedgerow. You're thinking of Barkswater's, which is one up and two over at Pigbladderington and Fishermans Bollocks."
'Och, laddie, right ye are. Was just up there last furlong batting the bunion and dropped a quid or two at the frothing pitch."
"So, olde poopchuter, shall we tally ho the mullions, then?"
"Pip, pip, good show and all that rot."
WTF?
I'm thinking this is some kind of secret code and I forgot to send in the boxtops for a decoder ring and I'm feeling a bit left out. All this talk about places I've never heard of and expressions I can't comprehend and vocabulary that sounds like it was written by that Shakybeer guy that supposedly wrote in English but when we read his stuff in school, the books always had a "translation" on the facing page so we could figure out WTF he was talking about so obviously it sure as hell wasn't "propour" English.
Anywaze, what I'm trying to say is that there seems to be some elitism, a clique as it were, a division of the have and have nots, which is leaving some of us feeling like I used to when they would choose up teams when I was a skinny, awkward kid and always got left until the end, even after Freddy Finkelstein who was born without any arms or legs but who could flutter his lips and sound exactly like a 1954 Packard with a hole in its tailpipe.
I mean... if I didn't know any better, I would believe that this forum is composed primarily of a bunch of those foppish Brits -- you know, those guys with the bad teeth and sticky wickets and...
Oh, wait!
Never mind.
Lately; however, I can't help but note a disturbing trend that seems to be taking over the dialogs I've been reading on here.
Typical would be an exchange running something like this:
"I say, olde teapot, what ho we hie ourselves hither 'round high tea at Barnswallow's for a nip and a tuck?"
"Barnswallow's? Is that Ye Oulde Shouppe at the corner of St. Swithins and Fartingtoad Road?"
"Nay, olde swinepotter, you've obviously gone 'round the hedgerow. You're thinking of Barkswater's, which is one up and two over at Pigbladderington and Fishermans Bollocks."
'Och, laddie, right ye are. Was just up there last furlong batting the bunion and dropped a quid or two at the frothing pitch."
"So, olde poopchuter, shall we tally ho the mullions, then?"
"Pip, pip, good show and all that rot."
WTF?
I'm thinking this is some kind of secret code and I forgot to send in the boxtops for a decoder ring and I'm feeling a bit left out. All this talk about places I've never heard of and expressions I can't comprehend and vocabulary that sounds like it was written by that Shakybeer guy that supposedly wrote in English but when we read his stuff in school, the books always had a "translation" on the facing page so we could figure out WTF he was talking about so obviously it sure as hell wasn't "propour" English.
Anywaze, what I'm trying to say is that there seems to be some elitism, a clique as it were, a division of the have and have nots, which is leaving some of us feeling like I used to when they would choose up teams when I was a skinny, awkward kid and always got left until the end, even after Freddy Finkelstein who was born without any arms or legs but who could flutter his lips and sound exactly like a 1954 Packard with a hole in its tailpipe.
I mean... if I didn't know any better, I would believe that this forum is composed primarily of a bunch of those foppish Brits -- you know, those guys with the bad teeth and sticky wickets and...
Oh, wait!
Never mind.
'nuf said!
don TJ and the 
Coros
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