"Clams got legs!" - Clumbsy Carp, shortly before being kicked to death...

Yeah they bode their time. Waited nearly 12000 years. But now the invasion began...

Dawn broke on the silvery strands of a beach on the Black Sea. It does not matter exactly where. Let the victors record their own history. Probably with pen between excitedly shaking toes. Who thought mankind would be bested by something that was often dinner for sea gulls. Usually after taking a long fall after a short flight. If only we had watched the process more closely. Had seen legs appear and then quickly disappear down some gull's throat. But we were not observant enough. And the clams bravely tucked their legs tight under all duress until they were ready.

They had surprise on their side. They had numbers. The vacationers on that first beach that first morning froze with shock. Hesitating long enough that the shiftly running clams could swarm them. It wasn't just humans. Also walruses. Payback time for crimes perpetrated upon them and their cousins the oysters.

Just bones, quickly bleached by the sun, remained of their victims. First the beaches. Then the strands. Then the towns. Then the cities. Relentless. Really pissed off.

Even now as I write this I can hear them coming. I haven't long now. The tramp, tramp of millions of feet marching in step. I've had a long full life. I have no regrets. I just wish we didn't lose to something I love only with some butter on it. Aiiiiiiiiieieeeeeeeegh

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"Clams got legs!"


Ah yes I got away. I was only roughied up a bit. I am now with the underground in Paris. Ah Paris. It is no longer what it once was.

Oh the follies are more popular than ever. Now that they've won the clams are brazenly showing their legs in public. The sex parlours are seedier than ever. Crammed with foot fetishers.

But the art has really suffered. Gone are the masterpieces of the great human artists. Replaced by simple toe paintings by clam wanna bes. Ugh and the colors. Clam vision is not the greatest and it really wreaks havoc here. Their impressions of light and shadow were formed in dim, murky depths. Only in the works of the clam impressionists can one find some solace. But they always tend toward ham-footed representations and militaristic themes.

The cafes on the North Shoal are filled with quiet desperation. The cafes on the South Shoal are now little more than lodges, shrines really, to gull hunting. Sadly the gaulish gulls are not indomitable and these places are filled with quislings too.

The food? Horrible now. Just plankton soups. The great chefs are mostly gone now, demised. Their delicate sensibilities could not deal with the new realities.

But someday the human spirit will rise again. There will be a day when we throw off the iron boot. When mussels will no longer flex their power over us. When gulls soar free once again. When once again the hand has hand. Until that day, my friends...



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*sigh* Here is a folk song popular amongst the resistance fighters. It is the touching story of a boy who was forced to sacrifice everything for the cause. It is probably an unfortunate choice for an anthem because to be done right requires a lot of expensive and loud instruments and is difficult to perform without attracting a lot of attention. But people love what they love -

Is this the real life?
Is this just fantasy?
Caught in a landslide,
No escape from reality
Open your eyes, Look up to the skies and see....

I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy
Because I'm easy come, easy go, Little high, little low,
Any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to me, to meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Mama I just killed a clam,
Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger, now he's dead
Mama, life had just begun,
But now I've gone and thrown it all away....

Mama, oohoooooooeeeeeeeeeeee,
Didn't mean to make you cry,
If I'm not back again this time tomorrow,
Carry ooooooooon, carry oooooooon as if nothing really matters

Too late, my time has come,
Sends shivers down my spine, body's aching all the time
Goodbye, ev'rybody, I've got to go,
Gotta leave you all behind and face the music...

Mama, oooooooooooh owwwwwwwieeeeeeeee
I don't want to die,
I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all

I see a little silhouetto of a clam,
Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the Fandango
Thunderbolt and lightning, very, very fright'ning to me

(Galileo) Galileo (Galileo) Galileo, Galileo figaro

I'm just a poor boy and nobody loves me
He's just a poor boy from a poor family,
Spare him his life from this monstrosity

Easy come, easy go, will you let me go
Makes me laugh! No, we will not let you go
(Let him go!) Makes me laugh! We will not let you go
(Let him go!) Makes me laugh! We will not let you go
(Let me go) Will not let you go
(Let me go) Will not let you go (Let me go) Ah
No, no, no, no, no, no, no

(Oh mama mia, mama mia) Mama mia, let me go

Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me, for me, for meeeeeeeeeeeeeee

So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye
So you think you can kick me and leave me to diiiiiiiiiiie
Oh, baby, can't do this to me, baby,
Just gotta get out, just gotta get right outta here

Nothing really matters, Anyone can see,
Nothing really matters,
Nothing really matters to me

Any way the wind blows


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Ah wait... Eureka. Though we are still in the grip of genus Gryphaea, I can see a way out.

Publication bias. Stasis made to appear as gradualism. yes it is clear now. All too clear.

The clams have tried to hide their weakness, their all too apparent weakness, by hijacking paleontological journals. By masking their design flaw, their Achilles heel, in the great drift of time.

Paleobiologists have always known that the basic structure of a clam, what they knew of it, is fundamentally unstable. No matter what mischief they have been up to, they must return to the muddy substrate to feed. When feeding they doze lightly in a kind of feeding stupor. But to feed and indeed to breathe they have to balance on their ends. A far less stable position than lying on their sides.

This is the key bit. When they lie on their side, which they don't like to do, they can't get their snorkel above a muddy bottom. If they aren't on a muddy bottom, they can't get adequate nutrients. They must balance on end in order to feed and to keep from suffocating.

Now, the wrinkle that had eluded the biologists - clams got legs. This is simply too much for them to maintain balance. Because the legs stick out from their sides instead of dangle from their ends. The extra, and asymmetric, weight makes it hopeless for them to balance long enough to feed.

And yet they have continued to live and thrive. How? Once you have asked the question you know the answer.

Super glue. Water insoluble. People have wondered for thousands of years how come their stores of super glue have vanished faster than seemed consistent with their use. Little kids were usually blamed. But it was clearly the clams. A little glue on the end of a clam and he is right as rain. Unfortunately for them they became more and more dependent on the stuff. To the point they had to capture the supply just to be safe. Hence the current unfortunate situation.

All we have to do, as a species, is dilute our glue. Our hated overlords will tip over and suffocate. Do it for yourself. Do it for your family. Weaken the grip of the clams!





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Me and my slight dyslexia. I didn't read Model Fish but Models Fist. Quote

awww wow that is just so beautiful beyond words! Def. on the bucket list as one person commented.




This video + Marijuana = majestic , is best comment on this video, give the guy thumbs up on utube

Marijuana fresh from Amsterdam, grown in perfect conditions, therefor longer lasting high, just for 25 euros / gram ;) call now 555 Marijuana and order you Marijuana now.

Disclaimer: When you use Marijuana there is always a slight chance you could get schizophrenia use it at your own risk ahhhahahahaa Quote

This video + Marijuana = majestic , is best comment on this video, give the guy thumbs up on utube

Marijuana fresh from Amsterdam, grown in perfect conditions, therefor longer lasting high, just for 25 euros / gram ;) call now 555 Marijuana and order you Marijuana now.

Disclaimer: When you use Marijuana there is always a slight chance you could get schizophrenia use it at your own risk ahhhahahahaa




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Marijuana for every body

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=InYNF5BC3ns

roll another blunt yea all cool


i was gonna clean my room until I got high
I was gonna get up and find the broom but then I got high
my room is still messed up and I know why yea-hey
'cause I got high because I got high because I got high

I was gonna go to class before I got high
I could've cheated and I could've passed but I got high
I'm taking it next semester and I know why yea-hey
'cause I got high because I got high because I got high

I was gonna go to work but then I got high
I just got a new promotion but I got high
now I'm seeling dope and I know why yea-hey
'cause I got high because I got high because I got high

I was gonna go to court before I got high
I was gonna pay my child support but then I got high
they took my whole pay check and I know why yea-hey
'cause I got high because I got high because I got high

I wasn't gonna run from the cops but I was high
I was gonna pull right over and stop but I was high
now I'm a paraplegic and I know why yea-hey
'cause I got high because I got high because I got high

I was gonna pay my car a nope until I got high
I wasn't gonna gamble on the boat but then I got high
now the tow truck's pulling away and I know why yea-hey
'cause I got high because I got high because I got high

I was gonna make love to you but then I got high
I was gonna eat your pussy too but then I got high
now I'm jacking off and I know why
'cause I got high because I got high because I got high

I messed with my entire life because I got high
I lost my kids and wife because I got high
now I'm sleeping on the sidewalk and I know why yea-hey
'cause I got high because I got high because I got high

I must stop singing this song because I'm high
I'm singing this whole thing wrong because I'm high
and if I don't sell one copy I know why yea-hey
'cause I'm high 'cause I'm high 'cause I'm high

'cause I'm high 'cause I'm high because I'm high
And please watch the links and give me or them a feedback


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Me and my slight dyslexia. I didn't read Model Fish but Models Fist.



lol that's a completely different story. Gruesome and compelling. Quote

Ah wait... Eureka.


Now I have to use great judgement in relating tales. This one has many disturbing elements that I have glossed over. Including details of the ending. There is method to my madness in this regard.

So do not question too closely the details of the proposed fix to the problem facing mankind. If you did, you'd force me to paint a picture that is none too pretty. I mean the clams ended badly. There was much wailing and kicking of feet. There was a valiant attempt on their part to solve the problem that only prolonged their agony a bit. And gave them stubbed toes to go along with empty bellies and a muddy death.

Let the horrible fate of the clams serve as a cautionary tale to any who would enslave the human race. Mankind was never meant to serve. Mankind will never stop resisting. Our will is too strong to be overcome. Dwelling in cities, enjoying the finer things, these have not changed our nature. In us still is the warrior, the freedom fighter, the demagogue, the harrier. The complexity of our species, of what we are, is a wonderful thing. We can be whatever the moment requires - if we only care to be.



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There was much wailing and kicking of feet. There was a valiant attempt on their part to solve the problem that only prolonged their agony a bit. And gave them stubbed toes







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It had been such a stressful week...

Mort headed down to the beach with a favorite tune playing in his head. His mood was unstoppably jubilant. He passed by the soldier with an automatic rifle with nary a frown. After all, the governor had just gotten sick of people complaining about his not taking precautions when some beach goer succumbed to the latest bizarre threat. But despite the news each year of some new and unexpected threat from the sea, people knew that the odds that it would be them, in his case friendly old Mort, playing the victim in some unsolicited gig was in the words of Dr. Math - vanishingly small.

With the air of a sophisticated beach hound Mort walked up and down the strand. Finally he had a spot that provided him the required amount of space and scenery. mmmmm and whatkinda scenery it was. There was a model down there doing her photo shoot. It was a pretty interesting shoot too, she was clearly dressed as some kind of sea vixen and circling in the air above her were some very large and nasty looking birds. Bigger than albatrosses. Looking more like eagles. With talons and oily feathers giving them a "don't ask us about our business, ya folla" look.

Mort headed down there and already his johnson was starting to stretch and say hello. He could tell from here that she was white hot, although she clearly had trouble moving around too fast in her incredible costume. The nearer he got, the more interested he got. The more aroused he got too. She clearly saw him coming. It was a nearly empty part of the beach. Her whole routine seemed to pick up pace as if she were feeding off his excitement.

mmmmm her curvy form. oooooo her inviting eyes. She was such a good actor. She really did seem other worldly. It made him even more excited.

He sat down and unashamedly checked her out as she worked it for the camera. He really couldn't see the camera man too well but who cared. He loosened up his shorts so his erection had some space to work with. He was surprised to see her start to encourage him to strip down. To see his cock. Her body english was telling him so clearly that it thrilled her to see his bulge and that she wanted to see his monster from a distance while she continued the shoot.

Surprised at his boldness, and a bit under her spell, he slid down his shorts enough for her to see. Nobody but her could see it.

But he was wrong about that. Terribly wrong. Incredibly, painfully wrong. Like he'd never been wrong about anything else before.

The eagles above saw it. They struck so fast. Their feet were indeed equipped with talons. Their dive, coupled with their strength, allowed them to swoop down and rip his cock cleanly off the very first dive. Blood volcanoed up. Immense pain glued him to the ground. His eyes, tearing, could not help but follow the path of the lead eagle, who carried the largest piece. He watched him take a couple of flaps with his wings, very elegantly, he saw him rise up a bit, he saw him drop the remnant of a once proud cock into the hand of the "model".

For she was no model. She was something from the deep. Something that probably should be feeding upon sea cucumbers but had developed a horrible new taste. With a gurgling, triumphant sound that might have been what her kind considered a laugh, she downed the cock in a couple of large, chewy bites and then dived into the sea.

The eagles got the remainder.

And the camera man? A previous victim that had been propped up in place. Her charade couldn't have lasted much longer even with the stiff trade winds playing over the beach that day.

We'll leave this tale at this point. I don't think there needs to be an explicit moral. But whenever your fancy comes to women me lads, keep in mind this particular colleen.






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dudley u have always been so creative in your stories.it is always a pleasure reading them. Quote

dudley u have always been so creative in your stories.it is always a pleasure reading them.


Most excellent my dear, I am so glad to be a source of ... delight. As you are to us all, my sweet.

But this reminds me. There is another denizen of the tank to be so wary of.

I was thinking of the jungle. Of the great snake. Of his hypnotic eyes. His beguiling ways. And realized that his distant relative, the great eel, is a less well known and thus perhaps more deadly.

He lurks in the reef. No philosopher. His blood runs so cold as the water that courses through his gaping maw down there in the deep depths where sunlight is a dim impression only. He is very strong. Once his coils are wound round even the great white there is no escape. No ancient killing machine, no matter his rows upon rows of gigantic teeth, can escape the clutches of the Wily One if he should happen to ensnare him.

Down in the cold deep, where the seal shivers, the narwhale's teeth chatter, the charge that jumps from deep within his writhing body makes the victim grin briefly before the pressure increases to many times that of the weight of the water above. Body jerking from charge shocks, hull bolts bursting from eel clinch, the victim experiences so many awful sensations before succumbing to the inevitable.

All fear him. Not just for the danger of his embrace. But because of his ability to seduce. To lure a victim to his doom. He thrives upon it. His reptillian heart beats quicker at the thought of the mind chase. His eyes glow with something not phosphorescent but other worldly, from hell pits, from alien worlds. Who knows his ultimate origin? Who knows his age? For as long as any can remember he has stalked the depths, taking his due when his clock tolls out the the taking time. He has countless names. All muttered quickly and nervously in hushed tones by his reef mates, his fellow denizens of the dark recessess of the coral forests.

Avoid his eyes. Dodge his coils. Stay away from the cave openings and seek sunnier, shallower waters. Die when you must, full of years, surrounded by family, in a warm cozy bed, and not in the cold, cold, depths of the killer's reef. Without leaving your broken bones on the sea carpet. Without losing your innards to the hellish boil and bubble of the Cold One's stomach.

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im pretty sure this is one of the best posts ever. Quote

im pretty sure this is one of the best posts ever.



Ah my dear, welcome� welcome� You are no stranger here.

It is a rare treat down here to meet one so well known. So adored by many. And what they say is true. There is much power in your eyes.

Yes I can see that you seek to travel to a distant land. To see something that land dwellers have never even heard of, let alone imagined.

So look into my crystal ball, see how it whirls with a mystical vortex, gaze, roll those dangerous eyes up, and look with your mind.

Did you know that under the sea is a great desert ? (echoing) desert? desert? �..

( consciousness fades away. Reality shimmers and then is replaced by a vision )

Here the sea bottom is not broken up by kelp, by critter, or by crevice. Only white, fine, sand. The depth is great, the pressure makes it laborious for even a lobster to move. As he moves he would slowly be cooked because the sands are warmed by liquid rock that is unusually close to the surface here.

The water near the bottom shimmers. The light bends in funny ways as it passes through it. Partly because of the convection of magma warmed water. But only partly.

( the mind moves rapidly over the sandy bottom� seeking)

Yes. Seek the strongest power in this part of the sea. Seek his dwelling.

(After much seeking a large sandstone palace rises from the sea floor. A palace in which the water flows through like air on land. And filled with a strange �people� )

Wealth. Power. Civilization rising up out of nothing and making the desert fit for life, for a fighting chance in the Great Struggle.

And you have arrived at a unique moment. A moment that will come only once and then disappear forever. The powerful ruler of this land, as dashing a sheik as ever cut his way through a tent on land, is working his magic on his intended. His chance is now. His moment of truth is at hand. With confidence he raises claw and sings, while his very best musicians lay down a wickedly alluring, irresistible beat, that would shatter down fortresses, lay open great treasure stores, and maybe, just maybe, make his love his forever�.

�You came� � (bump bubbaba bump bubbaba bump)

�I was alone�� (bump bubbaba bump bubbaba bump)

�I should have known��

�You were temptation.� (his eyes fire. His charisma magnifies 1000 - fold)

�You smiled�� (louder more determined bump bubbaba bump�s)

�Luring me on�� ( his dance becomes similar to that of the Great Eel shortly before striking)

�My heart was gone��

�And you were temptation.� ( a climax but somehow we suspect he can make it peak higher later)

�It would be thrilling�� (Now the great chieftan and his band wax so melodic. Making eyes seed sea)

�If you were willing��

�And if it can never be�.�

�Pity me.�

(interlude with some great dance numbers and some amazing solos�. Then - )

�For you�� (louder, stronger, more relentless)

�Were born to be kissed��

�I can�t resist��

�You are ��

�Temptation�

�And I am yours� (crafty musical slight of hand that defies my craft)

�Here is my heart��

�Take it and say�

�That we�ll never part.�

(And now we hit the limit, full force with all sheikish devices)

�I am just a slave�

�Only a slave�

�To you, temptation��

�I am your slave.�

And how could his love resist him this night? Another generation would be ruled by a powerful and happy king.

(with a snap of ... fingers? or maybe a crack of a whip, reality reforms)

Yes my child. This vision is my gift this day. A thousand blessings on you and yours and your people and your species this day of thanksgiving.

* pooof *









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p.s. thank you and stay awesome Quote

Now the master of ceremonies, a very sharp looking carp, rises up over the banquet and says -
�On this day where we celebrate the contributions of land dwellers, we must recognize the great musical talent of a well known comedian. Perhaps the most famous rabbit in history. The incomparable Bugs Bunny . This piece is from his master work - Gorilla My Dreams�

Down where the trade winds play�
Down where you loooooooose ah day�
We�ll start a new woild�
Where paradise starts�
We traded hearts�
The day that you sailed ah-waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay.

Someone�s rockin� my dreamboat
Someone�s invading my dream
We were sailing along all peaceful and calm
Then suddenly, something went wrong

Someone�s rockin� my dreamboat
Disturbing a beautiful dream
It�s a mystery to me, this mutiny at sea
Tell me, who can it be?

A friendly breeze gave us a start
To a paradise of our own
All at once a storm blew us apart
And left me drifting all alone

Someone�s rockin� my dreamboat
I�m a captain without a crew
But with love as my guide, I�ll follow the tide
I�ll keep sailing �til I find you.
Yes, I�ll keep sailing �til I find you

Sailing
(Someone�s rockin�, someone�s rockin)
Gonna keep sailing
(Someone�s rockin�, someone�s rockin)

Someone�s rockin� my dreamboat
(Someone�s rockin� my dreamboat)
Disturbing my dream
(Someone�s rockin� my dreamboat)
Tell me, tell me, hwo can it be?
Tryin� to understand this mutiny at sea

Yeah, someone is rockin�, rockin�
(Someone�s rockin�, someone�s rockin)
Simply rockin�, rockin� my dreamboat
(Someone�s rockin�, someone�s rockin�)

Well, I keep on sailing
(Someone�s rockin, someone�s rockin�)
�Cause someone�s is rockin� my dreamboat
(Someone�s rockin� my dreamboat)

[Lost to the ages]
(Someone�s rockin� my dreamboat)
Get out, get out, get out, get out of my dreamboat.
(Someone�s rockin�, someone�s rockin)
Get out of my dreamboat
(Someone�s rockin�, someone�s rockin�)

Out of my dream, get out of my dream
(Someone�s rockin� my dreamboat)
Get out of my, out of my, out of my, no, no




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The day done, duty fulfilled, thoughts in boxes sorted, the Master retired.

Put on his robes of solitude. Released his cares. Let his mind roam free.

The white comanche may have needed peyote for his visions. But the weary recluse needed nothing but his simple surroundings and the end of day rythmns.

Normally his discipline guided his thoughts even when relaxed. Instinctively quenching wisdom thirst. But today his mind was filled with an odd song. Fortunately the scribes have recorded it for the benefit of us latter day scholars. No doubt provoked by the experience of a jellyfish in dawn light -

Round, like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel.
Never ending or beginning,
On an ever spinning wheel
Like a snowball down a mountain
Or a carnaval balloon
Like a carousell that's turning
Running rings around the moon

Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes on it's face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind

Like a tunnel that you follow
To a tunnel of it's own
Down a hollow to a cavern
Where the sun has never shone
Like a door that keeps revolving
In a half forgotten dream
Or the ripples from a pebble
Someone tosses in a stream.

Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes on it's face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind

Keys that jingle in your pocket
Words that jangle your head
Why did summer go so quickly
Was it something that I said
Lovers walking allong the shore,
Leave their footprints in the sand
Was the sound of distant drumming
Just the fingers of your hand

Pictures hanging in a hallway
And a fragment of this song
Half remembered names and faces
But to whom do they belong
When you knew that it was over
Were you suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning
To the color of her hair

Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning,
On an ever spinning wheel
As the images unwind
Like the circle that you find
In the windmills of your mind

Pictures hanging in a hallway
And the fragment of this song
Half remembered names and faces
But to whom do they belong
When you knew that it was over
Were you suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning
To the color of her hair

Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning,
On an ever spinning wheel
As the images unwind
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind

Human imagery it's true. But then they were the species that was big into wheels. Quote