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blakes7-d Digest Volume 99 : Issue 86
Today's Topics:
Re: [B7L] Not Sex Kittens of Virn
[B7L] Zine help? was Re: Mary Sues
Re: [B7L] Run for the hills...
Re: [B7L] Zine help? was Re: Mary Sues
[B7L] Flat Robin #34 (Probably)
RE: [B7L] Flat Robin #34 (Probably)
RE: [B7L] Flat Robin #34 (Probably)
Re: [B7L] Flat Robin #34 (Probably)
Re: [B7L] "Aftermath" in frame library
Re: [B7L] Run for the hills...
Re: [B7L] Run for the hills...
[B7L] Penny's Pix
[B7L] Flattened Robin
Re: [B7L] Allure Def? & bits (was Re:Allure, Power Games and Tarrant...)
[B7L] Help Please
[B7L] Vena Muller
Re: [B7L] Run for the hills...
Re: [B7L] Run for the hills...
Re: [B7L] Allure Def? & bits (was Re:Allure, Power Games and Tarrant...)
[B7L] Introvert/extrovert clashes: off topic rambling
------------------------------
Date: Sat, 27 Feb 1999 17:35:08 PST
From: "Sally Manton" <smanton@hotmail.com>
To: blakes7@lysator.liu.se
Subject: Re: [B7L] Not Sex Kittens of Virn
Message-ID: <19990228013512.4190.qmail@hotmail.com>
Content-type: text/plain
From my:
<I do think Tarrant should survive long enough to let Avon know *what*
happened to him (fuelling said explosion with a vengeance)>.
Carol mourned:
<Poor Tarrant. He's been reduced to a plot device. <sniff> >
But a very decorative one???
<Well, at least Sally thinks Avon will be sorry that Tarrant was so
mistreated, or so I'm guessing. Some PGPs have Avon reacting "if
Tarrant weren't dead, I'd kill him for his mistake," forgetting that
Tarrant was just a pawn in Blake's testing program. A badly injured and
very heroic pawn, I might add.>
Yes, I *do* think Avon would be - not so much sorry - as absolutely
furious that Blake (who was supposed to trust him, after all) put *his*
pilot through that sort of testing, when he must have known that Avon
trusted Tarrant - well, as much as he does anyone. He wouldn't
at all appreciate the implications for Blake's faith in *his* ability to
judge his own people. And I don't think Avon would care for the
implications of the testing process itself - after all, I can think of
two people who'd fail spectacularly. Tarrant may have passed, but Vila
and Avon wouldn't have.
______________________________________________________
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------------------------------
Date: 27 Feb 1999 17:42:15 -0800
From: "Ma.James" <ma@ssdgwy.mdc.com>
To: blakes7@lysator.liu.se
Subject: [B7L] Zine help? was Re: Mary Sues
Message-ID: <n1291985040.91565@SSDGWY.mdc.com>
>kat@welkin.apana.org.au writes:
>Unfortunately, Soolin is a very neglected character in fanfic; I
>can't really think of any stories that take her as a viewpoint
>character.
I just read a lovely story in FORBIDDEN STAR TWO that is from Soolin's
viewpoint. "Cold Revolution" by Loulou Harris. It's an excellent story and has
some nice Avon/Soolin action. I've always thought they made such a great
couple.
Candace
------------------------------
Date: Sat, 27 Feb 1999 17:44:07 PST
From: "Sally Manton" <smanton@hotmail.com>
To: blakes7@lysator.liu.se
Subject: Re: [B7L] Run for the hills...
Message-ID: <19990228014407.25295.qmail@hotmail.com>
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>In a message dated 2/26/99 5:37:29 AM Mountain Standard Time,
>Mac4781@aol.com writes:
>
>> > Here's a story about a man named Roj
>> > Who wanted his freedom so very much
>> > He liked engineering, held his head high
>> > And he hated the Feds but he didn't know why
>>
>No doubt because of the "Here's a story" beginning, I sang this verse
to the tune of The Beverly Hillbillies theme. Try it, except for the
second line, where some syllables have to be drawn out, it works pretty
well.
To which Nina writes:
><ROFL> I want you to know what a truly evil suggestion this was...I
read this before I went to work this morning and the bloody thing's been
tormenting me all day! <shudder>
Nina, you want to try finding yourself softly *singing* it at
work...luckily, they all think I'm just a rotten singer and don;t
listen. I hope.
______________________________________________________
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------------------------------
Date: Sun, 28 Feb 1999 14:44:20 +1100
From: Kathryn Andersen <kat@welkin.apana.org.au>
To: "Blake's 7 list" <blakes7@lysator.liu.se>
Subject: Re: [B7L] Zine help? was Re: Mary Sues
Message-ID: <19990228144420.A461@welkin.apana.org.au>
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii
On Sat, Feb 27, 1999 at 05:42:15PM -0800, Ma.James wrote:
> >kat@welkin.apana.org.au writes:
> >Unfortunately, Soolin is a very neglected character in fanfic; I
> >can't really think of any stories that take her as a viewpoint
> >character.
> I just read a lovely story in FORBIDDEN STAR TWO that is from Soolin's
> viewpoint. "Cold Revolution" by Loulou Harris. It's an excellent story
> and has some nice Avon/Soolin action. I've always thought they made
> such a great couple.
Okay, so I'll revise that to "any *gen* stories". Not that I would
have known, since I only read gen stories.
--
_--_|\ | Kathryn Andersen <kat@welkin.apana.org.au>
/ \ | http://home.connexus.net.au/~kat
\_.--.*/ | #include "standard/disclaimer.h"
v |
------------| Melbourne -> Victoria -> Australia -> Southern Hemisphere
Maranatha! | -> Earth -> Sol -> Milky Way Galaxy -> Universe
------------------------------
Date: Sun, 28 Feb 1999 01:00:14 -0700
From: "woollard@gpu.srv.ualberta.ca" <woollard@gpu.srv.ualberta.ca>
To: blakes7@lysator.liu.se
Subject: [B7L] Flat Robin #34 (Probably)
Message-ID: <36D8F78E.7587@gpu.srv.ualberta.ca>
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[Author's Note : I just noticed Jacqueline said she wrote/was going to
write something about Travis and Blake in Nanny Ogg's room. Um, I'm sure
the boys won't remember anything that happened during this chapter. With
regards to Andromedans and Death ---> don't kill the Captain, please!
Oh, well, if you must. I'm all behind on who's doing what.]
***
Servalan was peeved; not quite furious, but, as her underlings had
learned from long experience, even simple peeveage can mean three months
of soaking various body parts in Epsom salts when the peever is a
Supreme Commander. Her peevishness was not without reason, though; for,
through a highly unlikely occurence, she had been turned to stone.
Yet, even in her petrified state, she was still able to take note of all
that was being said about her. When Krantor mentioned what a *fabulous*
dip-holder she'd make wearing *that* gown, she made a mental footnote to
see how the Federation's stock of pointed sticks was holding up. When
the long-haired cretin `Bastard' Fitzrogers had discovered her new
immobility and started making jokes based on her `stiffness' (eyebrows
waggling), she made another footnote concerning Andromedans and guided
tours. Meanwhile, crowds of money-hungry goons swarmed around her in
confusion.
Her eyes, though they could not rotate in their orbits, were still able
to see. Over the shoulder of the crazed woman who had been attacking
her, she could see the gently steaming hole through which Travis had
made his escape. She thought back to the chance encounter that had
reunited them, feeling vaguely pained as her memory drifted backwards...
Two space-weeks ago her cruiser had stopped by a convenience
space-station to pick up a few quarts of O+ for the Mutoids and perhaps
a nice chili-dog for herself. As she walked through the airlock into the
store, she noted a familiar leather-clad, one-eyed lunatic standing at
the self-service condiments counter, emptying quart after quart of
Space-Chili-Sauce onto his Federation-Issue Chili Dog.
'I didn't know you ate at 7-11, Travis,' she said coolly. Travis's neck
clenched, and he clutched his sopping Chili Dog more tightly. 'I haven't
seen you in a while. I see you're still wearing your uniform. Don't
worry, though, I don't think that's pathetic at all.' She covertly
signalled her mutoids to sneak around the large display of Space-Snax
towards Travis. `So, old boy, how's tricks?'
Travis turned towards her, mustering an unsurprised expression. 'If you
must know, Supreme *ptui-ptui* Commander, I am on my way to Star One to
help a vicious and viscous race of aliens known as Andromedans through
the mine-protected Border and thereby bring humanity to an unfortunate
end. Also, if I encounter Blake and his crew I intend to give them the
Rochambeau-ing of a lifetime,' said Travis, demonstrating with a few
kicking motions. Turning towards the Space-Snax display, he fired a
burst of Laseron energy at the Space-Salsa, showering the concealed
Mutoids with fiery foodstuffs. The two slunk back to Servalan's side,
their once pristine suits dripping with cheez and red goo.
`Picked up a few for the road, I note,' she said, pointing towards the
bulging paper sack under his armpit.
`Ever since that stint in the Federation asylum, I've been forced to
drown my sorrows with cheap malt liquor,' he replied, angrily squinting
at Servalan. He held up a bottle of `Laseron .45 Malted Beverage'.
'Well, for once our purposes collide, for I have just received word that
the Liberator has recently passed into the Turtalis Unlikelius
super-cluster. Perhaps their propulsion units will blow and reveal their
location,' said Servalan, handing a container of Wet-Wipes to her
Mutoids.
'That seems rather improbable. But, seeing as how the last of my mutoids
abandoned ship after I neglected to wash (or even remove) my
space-leather uniform for, let's see,' he counted off on his fingers.
`About three years, I'd be happy to join forces with you and give Blake
a taste of the ol' Laseron Destructor.' He patted his artificial arm
affectionately. Turning back to the self-serve condiments area, he
frantically worked the pump on the chili-liquid dispenser until the
little red light above it lit up and the nozzle whistled sadly. `That
should do me,' he said, waggling his dripping chili-dog at Servalan.
Travis walked to the check-out, cradling his snacks. Setting the hot-dog
down on a Federation Lottery case, he turned to Servalan. `Um, Supreme
*ptui* Commander, I've got a small favour to ask of you. I appear to
have forgotten my wallet. I could have sworn I put it in my pockets.' He
patted his trousers. Servalan rolled her eyes, then snapped her fingers
at the Mutoids.`Lynette, Suzanne, go to,' she said gesturing at the
clerk. The mutoids leaped at the acne-speckled teenager, pinning him
down. They stared at his exposed neck gleefully. `This one's on me,
Travis,' she said, as the Mutoids made unseemly noises.
Back in the present day, Servalan shook her head ruefully. The oaf had
once again proved himself completely useless. She could only hope that
whatever creatures lurked in the sewers would drag him away to a fate
most vile and excruciating.
***
Meanwhile, back in Nanny Ogg's apartment, things were getting peculiar.
The burlap curtains had been drawn, and the door was barred from the
inside. Giggles and thumps emerged from the darkened oubliette. Within,
two shadowy figures lay on the floor, staring unseeingly at the
lazer-pocked ceiling. A small, oddly corroded steel flask lay between
them, emptied.
`Have you ever really... *looked* at your hands, man?' asked the first
shape in the darkness, a chubby man in a tasteless naughahyde tunic. A
piece of paper pinned above his bosom read, `Hi! My Name is Blake!'. He
waggled his hands in front of his face and admired the way in which his
thirty-five fingers danced about one another most uncommonly [1].
His companion in the darkness held his leather-clad left arm up towards
the torch guttering in a bracer on the wall. `Oh, man... My hand! I
can't feel my hand!' he shrieked, hammering his left hand against the
floor. Blake reached over and grabbed the contentious appendage. `*I*
can feel it, man. It feels really... metallic, man,' he said, peering
down the business finger of the Laseron Destructor.
His single eye blazing like a supernova and whirling like a nebula, the
lunatic in the monk's robe lurched up from the straw strewn on the floor
and sat down heavily on a chair. `Come, little boy,' he said, gesturing
to the chubby space-terrorist on the floor and patting his lap. `Brush
the snow from your curls and let Uncle Travis tell you a story about the
Universe's most brave and dashing mongoose who ever lived.'
Blake hopped up from the floor, a grin of delight and pharmaceutical
delirium squirming about his face. He plopped onto Travis's lap, making
the wooden chair groan grievously.
'Wort wurz 'is name, Mister Imbecile?' said Blake, rooting around in his
nostrils.
Travis looked around thoughtfully. 'Well... erm... His name was
Ricky-Dicky-Travis. He was the most clever and despicable mongoose the
Federation had ever seen. He rooted bad guerilla warriors from their
dens and generally did a smash-up job of maintaining the status-quo. But
then, the wicked, um, Badger Blake attacked him without provocation, and
shot off his eye, arm, and... mongoosehood.' He wiped a single tear from
his eye. `After that, he dedicated his life to tracking down that evil
Badger. But then Ricky-Dicky-Travis made the mistake of working with the
evil tiger Sherv-Khanvalan, who eventually had him sent to an insane
asylum, where men in white coats poked long things into his brain.'
The handle on the door turned, but the deadbolt inside prevented the
door from opening. A muffled curse drifted through the keyhole. Travis
and Blake stared at the wiggling knob in delusional terror. After
several muttered invocations, a few sparks of octarine, and a
well-applied crowbar, Nanny Ogg opened the door and stared at the
tableaux of merciless monk and fat spaceman before her. It reminded her
so much of her second honeymoon that she was unexpectedly overcome with
emotion. She placed the economy-size jar of Eye of Newt that she had
been holding, plucked a handkerchief concealed about her person, and
blew her nose lustily.
Travis stood up quickly, sliding Blake onto the floor. 'I was merely...
interrogating the child. You, boy, don't try and undermine the authority
of the Federation again or I'll have you clapped in chains.'
Blake snuffled sadly into the sleeve of his tunic. 'Wort about the
weasel, mister?'
'Mongoose, you cretin! Now, go back to your mother and don't tell
anybody the location of Star One. That's a good boy. Here, have a
barley-sugar Mutoid.' Travis held out a small candy of indeterminate
shape towards Blake, who grasped it merrily in his sweaty paws before
gnawing off the head. Shaking his head feverishly, Travis lurched
towards the door.
Nanny Ogg blocked his exit. `Ere, now. You're in no condition to be
mobile. Just lie back on the floor... there's a good little monk.' She
walked over to the end-table and grabbed the huge glass container of
Newt's eyes. `These'll get you feeling frisky again, me boys,' she said,
waving a wad of freshly pickled newt-parts s in front of Blake's eyes.
`Ahhhh! Fire-shooting roll-mops!' shrieked Blake. He attempted to leap
out through the window, but missed the glass by a good three feet and
plowed headfirst into the lathe-and-plaster wall. With a plaster-muffled
groan, he slumped back to the floor unconscious.
***
[1] Uncommon except amongst the Bulgotonk tribe of Eastern Maul, where
if your mother (who was, typically, sister to your father and great-aunt
to your own sister while at the same time being your younger brother's
grandmother and your grandfather's (on your father's side) second,
fourth and eighth wife) gave you less that three dozen digits on your
hands alone you were considered `not-quite-right' and ceremonially
stripped of your penis-gourd (which is not as painful as it sounds).
------------------------------
Date: Sun, 28 Feb 1999 15:51:31 +0100
From: Jacqueline Thijsen <jacqueline.thijsen@cmg.nl>
To: blakes7@lysator.liu.se
Subject: RE: [B7L] Flat Robin #34 (Probably)
Message-ID: <39DCDDFD014ED21185C300104BB3F99F10FB50@NL-ARN-MAIL01>
Content-Type: text/plain
woollard@gpu.srv.ualberta.ca wrote:
> [Author's Note : I just noticed Jacqueline said she wrote/was going to
> write something about Travis and Blake in Nanny Ogg's room.
>
I did, but I threw it out when this came up. It did make me realise that
I've become far too emotionally involved with this whole thing, which is not
a good idea when you're working on something that can be picked up and added
to by anyone who wants to. So I will back out of it now.
Jacqueline
------------------------------
Date: Sun, 28 Feb 1999 08:15:42 -0700 (MST)
From: Penny Dreadful <egomoo@geocities.com>
To: B7 <blakes7@lysator.liu.se>
Subject: RE: [B7L] Flat Robin #34 (Probably)
Message-Id: <199902281515.IAA09940@pilsener.ucs.ualberta.ca>
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Jacqueline wrote:
>I threw it out when this came up. It did make me realise that
>I've become far too emotionally involved with this whole thing, which is
not
>a good idea when you're working on something that can be picked up
and added
>to by anyone who wants to. So I will back out of it now.
Threw it out?!! Noooo! Can you at least post it as a briefly existing
alternate universe?
------------------------------
Date: Sun, 28 Feb 1999 11:19:33 -0700
From: Helen Krummenacker <avona@jps.net>
To: blakes7@lysator.liu.se
Subject: Re: [B7L] Flat Robin #34 (Probably)
Message-ID: <36D988B6.6AFF@jps.net>
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Um...
this chapter...
is bordering on being Other-list material.
I thought this was going to be one of Arkaroo's chapters but it doesn't
really sound like A.'s writing. Have we got a new writer in the Flat
Robin?
Jacqueline, I'm with Penny. I'd like to read _your_ version of events.
------------------------------
Date: Sun, 28 Feb 1999 19:32:11 -0000
From: "Julie Horner" <jihorner@dial.pipex.com>
To: <blakes7@lysator.liu.se>
Subject: Re: [B7L] "Aftermath" in frame library
Message-ID: <003201be6351$0a751a60$9e5195c1@orac>
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-----Original Message-----
From: Lisa Williams <lcw@dallas.net>
>"Aftermath" has been added to my B7 video frame capture library. The
>library is located at: <http://lcw.simplenet.com/b7lib.html>.
Mmmm. Thanks Lisa. "Aftermath" is one of my favourite episodes
and I have just spent some happy moments drooling over the lovely
shots in your library <wipes keyboard>.
I think Avon unconscious in the life capsule must be a classic
"beautiful suffering".
Julie
------------------------------
Date: Sun, 28 Feb 1999 15:18:24 EST
From: Pherber@aol.com
To: blake7@lysator.liu.se
Subject: Re: [B7L] Run for the hills...
Message-ID: <2877ab18.36d9a490@aol.com>
Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII
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In a message dated 2/27/99 6:40:13 AM Mountain Standard Time,
sbs@world.std.com writes:
> This is *weird*, because when I read it what popped into my mind was the
> theme song for the Brady Bunch -- and it pretty much works for that, too,
> with syllables rushed instead of drawn out....
Aaaghghghg - Nononononononono
(Mad rush for the Led Zeppelin CDs.....ooh, that's better!)
<whimper>
Nina
------------------------------
Date: Sun, 28 Feb 1999 15:18:18 EST
From: Pherber@aol.com
To: blakes7@lysator.liu.se
Subject: Re: [B7L] Run for the hills...
Message-ID: <359d77f8.36d9a48a@aol.com>
Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII
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In a message dated 2/27/99 6:45:45 PM Mountain Standard Time,
smanton@hotmail.com writes:
> Nina, you want to try finding yourself softly *singing* it at
> work...luckily, they all think I'm just a rotten singer and don;t
> listen. I hope.
>
Fortunately (for everyone else, that is...) I've learned to keep my own
singing to myself. Limited to commuter time with the windows up and CD
cranked. <grin>
I even lip-synch at birthday parties.
Nina
------------------------------
Date: Sun, 28 Feb 1999 13:45:42 -0700 (MST)
From: Penny Dreadful <egomoo@geocities.com>
To: Lysator <blakes7@lysator.liu.se>
Subject: [B7L] Penny's Pix
Message-Id: <199902282045.NAA07717@pilsener.ucs.ualberta.ca>
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Inspired by Lisa (although not a tenth as organised, or navigable, or
discriminating) -- and the fact she said (if I recall correctly) we shouldn't
hold our breath waiting for her to give us 'Gambit' (one of the few
episodes I have in good quality format as opposed to SLP off YTV)...
http://members.tripod.com/~Space_Scum
..and it's *not* all just pictures of Travis, despite "his cheery accent, his
taste in fashion..."(tm)
--Penny "Mr. Blackwell" Dreadful
------------------------------
Date: Sun, 28 Feb 1999 15:24:33 -0700 (MST)
From: Penny Dreadful <egomoo@geocities.com>
To: Lysator <blakes7@lysator.liu.se>
Subject: [B7L] Flattened Robin
Message-Id: <199902282224.PAA18424@pilsener.ucs.ualberta.ca>
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Oh no, now I feel all anxious...is it going to be just me and Avona (the
obliviously egotistical INTPs, teehee) valiantly plugging away at this thing
henceforth? I hope not. Arkaroo said himself his chapter was a silly aside
and was in no way meant either to further or to hinder the Plot...I think we've
each of us contributed something less than ideal on occasion -- I suspect
nothing would have been said if it had been known it was Arkaroo posting,
so...hmm, maybe I ought to start posting anonymously because I *want*
Constructive Criticism.
------------------------------
Date: Sun, 28 Feb 1999 14:28:58 PST
From: "Joanne MacQueen" <j_macqueen@hotmail.com>
To: blakes7@lysator.liu.se
Subject: Re: [B7L] Allure Def? & bits (was Re:Allure, Power Games and Tarrant...)
Message-ID: <19990228222858.21808.qmail@hotmail.com>
Content-type: text/plain
Mistral wrote:
>:( Actually, I'm rather disappointed by not getting even the tiniest
>groan for Avon: A Terrible Aspic :(
<grin> Yes, well, maybe our brains turned to jelly at the thought of it!
Regards
Joanne
(a little more sleep and I'll be my usual self)
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------------------------------
Date: Sun, 28 Feb 1999 23:56:04 +0100 (MET)
From: Carol and Gordon Burgess <storm@catchnet.com.au>
To: blakes7@lysator.liu.se
Subject: [B7L] Help Please
Message-ID: <36D5D6D600000BA7@base.catchnet.com.au> (added by base.catchnet.com.au)
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
Hello,
Can someone help me I have lost the URL to a B7/B5 CO story that was
on the net.. Would anyone happen to know what it is please?
As some friends from a B5 mailing list would like to look at it.
Thanks in advance,
Carol 'Hondo'
------------------------------
Date: Sun, 28 Feb 1999 14:58:57 PST
From: "Joanne MacQueen" <j_macqueen@hotmail.com>
To: blakes7@lysator.liu.se
Subject: [B7L] Vena Muller
Message-ID: <19990228225857.4625.qmail@hotmail.com>
Content-type: text/plain
Julie said:
> And as to the snigger, well, it was nothing so vulgar as a snigger -
>more of a lovely wrinkly-eyed smile.
Oh, good. Someone else who thought he was merely amused by the word.
>That apart - I still could find nothing suggestive of Avon raising his
>hopes at this stage. His body language just doesn't indicate anything
>and they are sitting right at opposite ends of the sofa.
Not that I'm the best judge of body language, and it's been a while
since I've seen "Headhunter", but I can only agree.
>No I don't think he feels inadequate. He goes to comfort her but >when
she turns away I don't think it is a personal snub, she is just in
>shock.
Yes, which is why she calls them all murderers. No, I don't think it was
meant as a personal snub, just that Avon interpreted it that way.
Smouldering? I would think the ashes were fairly cold by that stage
with, much to my regret but not others <grin>, only Servalan managing
to, erm, light his fire. Chivalry? Yes, but that doesn't preclude
apalling behaviour if his vanity is touched on. (Well, there were all
these people suggesting that he doesn't dress like an obvious geek, so
there must be a fair amount of vanity, as opposed to superiority,
lurking beneath the facade. Superiority he saves for being right all the
time!)
Regards
Joanne
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Date: Sun, 28 Feb 1999 15:09:20 PST
From: "Joanne MacQueen" <j_macqueen@hotmail.com>
To: blakes7@lysator.liu.se
Subject: Re: [B7L] Run for the hills...
Message-ID: <19990228230920.27413.qmail@hotmail.com>
Content-type: text/plain
Carol Mc wrote:
>No doubt because of the "Here's a story" beginning, I sang this >verse
to the tune of The Beverly Hillbillies theme. Try it, except for >the
second line, where some syllables have to be drawn out, it works >pretty
well.
<teeth gritted> AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!! You win, Carol! While I remember
this, I shall never knowingly be nasty to your darling boy. Ouch! <weak
grin> I hope you realise what a sacrifice I'm making for you.
>> Out on the surface Bran Foster died
>> Shame, Tarrant, shame, but we all cried
>Dev Tarrant, that is. Don't anyone try to fill in "Del" here. <g>
See? You are sagacious, Carol. I knew you'd think of the right person
surnamed Tarrant!
Regards
Joanne
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Date: Sun, 28 Feb 1999 15:16:16 PST
From: "Joanne MacQueen" <j_macqueen@hotmail.com>
To: blakes7@lysator.liu.se
Subject: Re: [B7L] Run for the hills...
Message-ID: <19990228231616.4865.qmail@hotmail.com>
Content-type: text/plain
Susan Beth said:
>This is *weird*, because when I read it what popped into my mind >was
the theme song for the Brady Bunch -- and it pretty much works >for
that, too, with syllables rushed instead of drawn out....
<novice filker covers face with hands, speaks in whimpering whisper> Oh,
bugger! That's worse!
<sigh> Fortunately for my sanity, I know a few people (particularly
Kiersten) know the relevant Whitlams tracks, though whether they are
prepared to sing them aloud...
Regards
Joanne
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Date: Sun, 28 Feb 1999 16:59:47 -0800
From: mistral@ptinet.net
To: B7 list <blakes7@lysator.liu.se>
Subject: Re: [B7L] Allure Def? & bits (was Re:Allure, Power Games and Tarrant...)
Message-ID: <36D9E682.FF066A07@ptinet.net>
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Joanne MacQueen wrote:
> (a little more sleep and I'll be my usual self)
Now that's a terrifying thought ;-)
Mistral
--
"And for my next trick, I shall swallow my other foot."--Vila
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Date: Sun, 28 Feb 1999 20:50:15 -0700
From: Helen Krummenacker <avona@jps.net>
To: B7 list <blakes7@lysator.liu.se>
Subject: [B7L] Introvert/extrovert clashes: off topic rambling
Message-ID: <36DA0E77.4CCF@jps.net>
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I just want to say I am so glad to be on this list. I just got into a
big fight with a so-called friend. She'd been lying to me about how she
felt about certain behavior of mine-- specifically, sometimes being too
busy to talk-- for months, then today, dumped all over me about it. This
is probablly a classic extrovert/introvert conflict, and the very reason
introverts like to keep to themselves. I cared deeply about her--- she
talks all the time, but never shows any sign of caring about my own
life. She would give me guilt trips by over apologizing for silly things
that I wasn't even mad about: she truely embodied that ability to
manipulate people that introverts fear.
But here, people tend to say what they mean, or at least try to. When I
go on at length on a topic, no one assumes I've closed the discussion (a
problem on another list I'm on). I just wanted to say, while I'm still
in an utterly vulnerable frame of mind, that I really love talking to
you guys. You give me a lot of smiles, not just with jokes, but also
your capacity for intelligent discussion and mutual respect.
--Avona, or is it Cally's Clone today?
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End of blakes7-d Digest V99 Issue #86
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