| Title: | The Joy of Lex |
| Notice: | A Notes File even your grammar could love |
| Moderator: | THEBAY::SYSTEM |
| Created: | Fri Feb 28 1986 |
| Last Modified: | Mon Jun 02 1997 |
| Last Successful Update: | Fri Jun 06 1997 |
| Number of topics: | 1192 |
| Total number of notes: | 42769 |
The rules of this game are simple. Submit the "long lost works" of a
famous writer here - fragments that history forgot. Only, you're the
writer. What did Hamlet really say in those first few rough drafts?
Have a long-lost poem by Keats? What about a poignant passage from
Steinbeck? 'Course, it would help if it were funny.
I'll start. This is a fragment long lost from the Beowulf manuscript:
"Many a bowl of H�agen-Daas they ate,
And were mighty content in that ice cream hall,
And bowl after bowl, with much merriment
The warriors partook of the creamy refreshment."
"Then the warriors, tired from their ice cream eating,
Fell asleep. And that terrible monster from hell,
Wendell, stole into the ice cream hall and
Took the cream, and sugar, and recipes."
"In the morning, many a wail was heard
Throughout the hall: a scurrying for
Jimmies and almonds, and whipped cream
And cherries - all was gone."
"T'was a baleful Sundae, that day,
And all good humor was lost among the men,
Ready as they were to band, and a split
Was not at all on their minds."
"Then came a man, from the land of H�agen-Daas,
His helmet speckled with bits of real vanilla,
And covered in butterscotch: a Friendly man,
Cold and creamy, boasting of his dish deeds."
"He gave the scoop to the scops,
Crushed walnuts with his mighty fist,
Boasting of his dish deeds,
Cone-n he was, from..."
Here the fragment breaks off...:-)
| T.R | Title | User | Personal Name | Date | Lines |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 742.1 | Gettysburg Address | CAM::MAZUR | It ain't the meat, it's the lotion. | Wed Dec 06 1989 17:46 | 30 |
Even though Abraham Lincoln was not a "famous writer", his
Gettysburg Address is often quoted. What is not know about
this address is that it was originally written by Lincoln to
open up the roasting at his friend Aaron's stag. Lincoln's
friend Aaron was about to marry Sandy Schoem.
One score and eight years ago, Aaron's mom brought forth on this
continent a nude baby, conceived by accident but dedicated to the
proposition that this child shall have no equal.
Now, this man is engaged to Sandy Schoem, testing whether this man
so conceived and so dedicated and this woman so naive but wholly
dedicated can long endure. We have come to this table to lay a portion
of Aaron's life to rest. His bachelorhood, long lived, shall now be
put in its final resting place.
But in a larger sense, we cannot honor -- we cannot praise -- we cannot
hallow this man. We must seize this opportunity to thoroughly roast
his hide. The world will little note, nor long remember, what we say
here, but we can only pray that these verbal attacks will long leave
barbs in his side. It is for us, the roasters, that this moment
has been set aside to speak our final words to you Aaron, the bachelor.
Let us highly resolve that this bachelor shall not escape unscathed and
that we shall fully savor the moment. But before I begin let us vow to
help Aaron in his reincarnation as Sandy's husband and that this marriage
of these people, before us people, by the steeple, shall not perish
from the earth.
(Actually written for my friend Aaron, but I'll give Lincoln credit)
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