NO MORE PRECIOUS TIME WASTED ON:
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YOU
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| The reports on the little gnome paid off once again. Guy got busted on the 23rd and has been in the Pukes room only a couple of times since then, using dots and dashes in place of dirty words. Lol! |
Typically hidden gifts, no profile, and of course, they all make sure to have a few badges to make it look good. I don’t often post troll alerts these days but after seeing her chat a few times, I couldn’t overlook this one. So many seem to be age 56 and from B.C. Canada. You have to watch out for their older names because they do not look like clones.
This one seems to be very good friends with DancesWithWitchs and the clone grainsofsand. The three of them were in Pukes together Sunday night for several hours.
There’s some people in the Pukes room who sanctimoniously refer to karma and how karma is going to bite “all those bad guys” in the ass. I kinda get a kick out of watching them do this, because if karma does come around it’s going to take a huge chunk of their hides as well.
None of the principle players in the Pukes room are innocent of dirty dealings and a few of the ones crying “KARMA!” the loudest are the rooms most malicious liars, gossips and backstabbers.
You know who they are…they’ve passed on plenty of nasty gossip to you. ;o)
Guy the Gnome is as rude and odious as ever - bashing, trashing and spewing, same as he ever was. Alas to the misguided albeit well-intentioned person who thought they could take Guy by the hand and lead him into the light. Give that person the Hopeless Optimist of the Year award!
(Part II follows)
This is a story about how a totally unpleasant and thoroughly deranged garden gnome found the internet and began a global reign of terror on humans.
Gnomes as a rule are a very clever and friendly folk who live and work underground and get along well with plant, fish, fowl, man and beast. They are highly technical and love gadgets and machines, although they are suspicious of anything beyond what they can invent and build themselves and they suspect many human inventions of being shrouded in evil spells and black magic. This suspicion probably stems from a deep-seated envy and resentment of superior human technical capabilities, since gnomes are prone to such sentiments and are famous for carrying grudges..
Garden gnomes, now, are a different sort. Aside from a shared passion for gadgets and machines, garden gnomes have very little in common with their underground cousins. Long ages ago, a clan of European garden gnomes left the darkness of the caves and caverns to dwell in the light amongst the living things on the face of the earth, taking up farming and growing dark and swarthy under the bright, warm sun.
These gnomes prospered in the bountiful woods, valleys and meadowlands; grew plump and rosy-cheeked and were blessed with many children. Gnome towns and villages blossomed like spring flowers across the countryside. Gnomes and humans began to mingle on the road and in the marketplace and pubs, and after a time they began to share a bit of knowledge and technology. That’s about as far as it went, because gnomes are gnomes and therefore given to grumpiness and mischief, but for the most part everyone got on well enough together at a safe arm’s length. And so it was for a few hundred years. . .
~~CONTINUED BELOW~~
GUY THE GNOME AND HOW HE BECAME AN INTERNET TERRORIST
Once upon a time there was a especially ornery, self-besotted little garden ![gnomeaxe1sm_thumb[5]](file:///C:/Documents and Settings/Judi/Local Settings/Temp/WindowsLiveWriter-429641856/supfiles2AE49897/gnomeaxe1sm[9].png "gnomeaxe1sm_thumb[5]")
Now, Guy couldn’t bear to be without an audience for his grand, tall tales or victims for his vicious bullying and belittling, so he was very miserable indeed, with no one but himself for company as he wandered alone through the woods and over and under hill and dale.
Then one day, as he was stomping angrily through yet another miserable forest, muttering and grumbling to himself and kicking furry little creatures senseless just for the fun of it, Guy heard something unusual and stopped to listen. Yes, it was voices, human voices, a young male and female. Of course, Guy saw this as a golden opportunity for some truly foul monkey business - which made him very happy - and he danced a jolly little jig, giggling and snickering with glee. Quietly he crept toward the voices, all the while mentally sorting through his bag of tricks, considering then rejecting this one and that one as he searched for the perfect prank.
He found them soon enough: two young, stupid humans engrossed in food and drink ![shrubgnome1_thumb[7]](file:///C:/Documents and Settings/Judi/Local Settings/Temp/WindowsLiveWriter-429641856/supfiles2AE49897/shrubgnome1[13].png "shrubgnome1_thumb[7]")
Now, the young humans had never seen a gnome before, and until this very moment had doubted gnomes even existed, but they had heard plenty of wild stories about gnomes and how gnomes sometimes tortured, cooked and ate humans. For an endless moment the humans stood frozen to the spot, horrified and speechless, but they soon got their wits about them, found their feet and their voices, and fled screaming at the top of their lungs.
The little gnome shook with laughter as he watched the wretched humans flee shrieking into the woods, mindless with terror. Humans were such flighty, excitable ![laffinggnome1crop_thumb[7]](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZifmest-O7YsZT512KmJwGsFcHCvREbCmlQRBVNire8Kj0aZLR0TuZdOAU4AIx-dqEp1Y24F9y6YnmyjwXcs-SphjzURBunohZNQozt03tGjW29H-3se2YpeE7eGkrkyq2xwMjyJC-IrP/?imgmax=800 "laffinggnome1crop_thumb[7]")
Guy sobered up at last, wiped the tears from his eyes and took in what the humans had left behind: a truly sumptuous assortment of luscious edibles; a sweater and a handsome jacket; various trinkets and a strange metal contraption with a brightly lit picture in a frame. Later he would stuff his pack and his pockets with the collectibles, but for the moment Guy was focused on the edibles. Gnomes are always ready for a meal, and this one spent the next half hour chomping and gobbling fistfuls of picnic fare as fast as he could shovel them into his mouth, washing it all down with a bottle of 
When there was nothing left but crumbs he laid back with a blissful sigh and a mighty belch, contemplating a lovely little nap, when his eye fell once again upon the metal contraption. Why, the picture had changed!
This was obviously one of those diabolical human inventions shrouded in black magic and sure to bring a curse upon him and his descendants for generations to come, but gnomes are curious to a fault, especially when it comes to machines, and Guy was no exception. For a minute or two he sat there, cross-legged, staring at the thing, no doubt weighing the possibly dire consequences of putting his nose too far into it, but curiosity won out and there was nothing to do but get to the bottom of this mystery.
Whistling an idle tune while looking off across the meadow and feigning disinterest, the curious gnome cautiously scooted closer, inch by inch, until at last he was sitting directly in front of the contraption.
What a marvelous device it was! Two pieces of polished metal attached at one edge; one half propped upright and displaying a bright picture, the other half lying flat and festooned with row upon row of shiny black buttons inscribed with human runes. There was a soft humming from inside and Guy knew this was an electrical device, similar to the moving picture boxes every human held so dear. Guy had found one of those once and plugged it into electricity and for few minutes he was 
This new treasure seemed very much like that moving picture box. Guy put it on his lap and studied the screen a bit, wondering how to make the picture move. He pushed one of the black buttons and something blinked. Carefully, he pushed a few more buttons. Gerroff! Now something was happening! The picture changed and music poured forth merrily from inside the machine. Cackling with excitement, Guy threw all caution to the wind and fiddled with buttons and bars and wheels. Twirling the wheel made a little arrow move around the screen and point at this and that, and a push of a button called up a new scene, like opening a window. What fun he was having!
Being a very quick and clever gnome, Guy was soon surfing the internet like an old pro. A plethora of images and words flashed before his gnomish little eyes, inciting glee, horror, disgust and laughter, one after another or all together. Such power these digital magicians had to influence and control the masses!
You have to know this was an exciting concept to an warped, egomanical, self-obsessed gnome like Guy. Guy was 
Just when it all seemed too hopelessly vast a field to narrow, he noticed a link to a popular game site. Hmm, Pogo,com. Well, that kind of place should attract a good sized crowd, he thought, and not many rocket scientists or Einsteins. Perfect! So Guy clicked on the link, signed up, and that day began his life as a chat room terrorist.
He roamed around the Pogo site for a few days, looking for a chat room to stage a siege. After a few hits and misses he stumbled onto the perfect room: Tri-pukes. in Tri-Peaks Solitaire. a 50+ room that harbored a large number of talkative and woefully gullible old folks that seemed to fall for the all oldest tricks in the book and to buy into everything they were told without the bother of thinking it through, Perfect, perfect, perfect! The little gnome was in 7th Heaven. He declared himself Chat Room Owner at once.
Guy had certainly chosen the ideal room because, unlike other Pogo game rooms, this one would not mute his name and banish his words from the chat window. The silly folks in the Pukes room argued with him for hours on end, responding to his every comment and feeding him the attention he so desperately craved; some too oblivious to realize how they were encouraging him and some just wanting cheap thrills and drama, no matter how trashy.
So, for many long days and dreary nights, Guy the Gnasty Gnome relentlessly and brutally assailed the hapless throng in the Tri-Pukes room, demanding submission through ruthless tyranny and pounding them with the rudest of insults. He mocked the disabled and laughed at grief and misfortune. He disparaged military veterans and spewed ugly racial slurs. He invented outrageous tales to make himself look omnificent and superior, a mighty and powerful god far above them all, to be worshipped and obeyed without question.
When he was away from the chat room he fondly relived, over and over, the highlights of his best attacks, chuckling to himself and savoring his genius. Oh, he was such a cool and clever gnome!
But people eventually tired of Guy’s onslaughts and as his caustic rhetoric lost its charm, the room began to ignore him. This would not do for the almighty room owner and he took his nastiness to higher and higher levels, hoping to reignite the flames of hatred and disgust. But it was no use, his audience had become desensitized!
No way was Guy ever going to give up his control over this chat room, no matter what it would take to keep it. He racked his brain feverishly for new hurts and humiliations, deeper wounds and blood galore. He became so obsessed with evil thoughts and plots he didn’t notice at first the change taking place in his precious laptop as he pursued his evil agenda.
But gradually he became aware of an annoying hum issuing from the machine that seemed to crawl into the very center of his brain, and in the hum he sometimes thought he heard voices. And although he tried to laugh this off, he found himself listening intently to hear what the voices were saying. He caught snatches of phrases here and there and with a sense of alarm realized the voices were talking to him and about him; mocking him, chiding him. This annoyed him no end and he sourly ordered the voices to shut the fuck up, NOW.
But they just laughed at him and grew louder. Their words became more distinct and those words chilled Guy to the bone: they were coming for him, they were going to to take him to a dark place from which there was to be no escape. No, he could not let this happen, he would shut off the computer and silence them! Arrogantly he pressed the power button, cawing in triumph. So much for that!
But wait! the hum droned on and the voices were there still, babbling and whispering, beckoning him, teasing him. His face was drawn closer to the computer, his nose pressing painfully against the screen, and he could not pull away. Now he could see ghostly shapes moving in the screen, wispy faces with eyes full of malice, reaching hands with long grasping fingers. Guy felt cold tendrils slipping around his neck and he screamed in terror, trying to escape, but it was no use. A thousand ethereal hands clutched him, dragging him out of his universe and into theirs. He struggled and kicked feebly for a minute or two, then he was gone.
Except for his shiny little gnome boots, which lay empty on the keyboard.
Absolute silence hung in the air and the chat room rejoiced that Guy the Gnome had suddenly left them in peace. When he didn’t return after several days, nobody missed him and life went on as usual in Pukesville, and although some wondered idly why Guy never returned, he was soon forgotten.
