Code 3
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I would like to inquire as to the reasoning for this suspension... :glare:
the 100% directionless thread
- Thread starter KEVD18
- Start date
I would like to inquire as to the reasoning for this suspension... :glare:
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KEVD18
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you want to know the motivation behind it?
its a rebuttal to any moderator thats ever stormed into a thread and demanded that a free floating discussion that was still within the rules be brought "bank on topic". so i started this thread that has no topic. you could post up the ingrediant list to a random package selected from your cupboard and it would be perfectly relevant. there is no conceivable way this thread could be off topic.
so anyway, could everybody please post one of the following in this thread:
shoe size
last digit of your license plate
diagonal dimension of your primary television
your favorite carbonated beverage
your preferance between the simpsons and family guy
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KEVD18
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My left pocket currently contains a piece of paper with a phone number on it, a one dollar bill, 38 cents, and pocket lint.
soliciting the male members of your service again?
Code 3
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KEVD18
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sure, i have nothing to hide.
i called one member an alternate name for a donkey becuase he signed out of the chat 6 seconds before i hit enter on a post to him. the amusing part is that when i told him about it, he was offended that i got punished for doing it, not doing ti in the first place.
i also made an admittedly inappropriate anatomical reference to another member, alleging that he had parts which he(presumably does not). he also was not present to view these allegations. none of the non cl parties present were offended in the least. these offenses were discovered during a review of the chat log and i was punished based on the theory that of the aforementioned parties were present, they would have been offended.
its basically a slant on teh old proverb "if a tree falls in the woods and nobody heres it, does it still make a noise"?
the emtlife version is apparently "if somebody says something that could be offensive, but nobody is offended, have they still offended somebody?"
of course, im not being critical on emtlife policies. i broke the rules and am serving my sentence.
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KEVD18
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disregard.....
Okay Shoe size 10.5
Favourite pop: Pepsi
and my contribution to a totally meaningless thread is a poem to remember as I embark for the Great White North. It's good well worth a read if you haven't heard it before
The Cremation of Sam McGee
by Robert W. Service
There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.
Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows.
Why he left his home in the South to roam ‘round the Pole, God only knows.
He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell;
Though he’d often say in his homely way that “he’d sooner live in hell.”
On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail.
Talk of your cold! through the parka’s fold it stabbed like a driven nail.
If our eyes we’d close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn’t see;
It wasn’t much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee.
And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow,
And the dogs were fed, and the stars o’erhead were dancing heel and toe,
He turned to me, and “Cap,” says he, “I’ll cash in this trip, I guess;
And if I do, I’m asking that you won’t refuse my last request.”
Well, he seemed so low that I couldn’t say no; then he says with a sort of moan:
“It’s the cursed cold, and it’s got right hold till I’m chilled clean through to the bone.
Yet ‘taint being dead—it’s my awful dread of the icy grave that pains;
So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you’ll cremate my last remains.”
A pal’s last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail;
And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale.
He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee;
And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee.
There wasn’t a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven,
With a corpse half hid that I couldn’t get rid, because of a promise given;
It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: “You may tax your brawn and brains,
But you promised true, and it’s up to you to cremate those last remains.”
Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code.
In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed that load.
In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring,
Howled out their woes to the homeless snows—O God! how I loathed the thing.
And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow;
And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low;
The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in;
And I’d often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.
Finding boat to cremate Sam McGee.
Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there lay;
It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the “Alice May.”
And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum;
Then “Here,” said I, with a sudden cry, “is my cre-ma-tor-eum.”
Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire;
Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher;
The flames just soared and the furnace roared—such a blaze you seldom see;
Then I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee.
Then I made a hike, for I didn’t like to hear him sizzle so;
And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to blow.
It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don’t know why;
And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky.
I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear;
But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near;
I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: “I’ll just take a peep inside.
I guess he’s cooked, and it’s time I looked;” . . . then the door I opened wide.
Sam McGee sitting in the fire happy and warm.
And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar;
And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: “Please close that door.
It’s fine in here, but I greatly fear you’ll let in the cold and storm—
Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it’s the first time I’ve been warm.”
There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.
Favourite pop: Pepsi
and my contribution to a totally meaningless thread is a poem to remember as I embark for the Great White North. It's good well worth a read if you haven't heard it before
The Cremation of Sam McGee
by Robert W. Service
There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.
Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows.
Why he left his home in the South to roam ‘round the Pole, God only knows.
He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell;
Though he’d often say in his homely way that “he’d sooner live in hell.”
On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail.
Talk of your cold! through the parka’s fold it stabbed like a driven nail.
If our eyes we’d close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn’t see;
It wasn’t much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee.
And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow,
And the dogs were fed, and the stars o’erhead were dancing heel and toe,
He turned to me, and “Cap,” says he, “I’ll cash in this trip, I guess;
And if I do, I’m asking that you won’t refuse my last request.”
Well, he seemed so low that I couldn’t say no; then he says with a sort of moan:
“It’s the cursed cold, and it’s got right hold till I’m chilled clean through to the bone.
Yet ‘taint being dead—it’s my awful dread of the icy grave that pains;
So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you’ll cremate my last remains.”
A pal’s last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail;
And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale.
He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee;
And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee.
There wasn’t a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven,
With a corpse half hid that I couldn’t get rid, because of a promise given;
It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: “You may tax your brawn and brains,
But you promised true, and it’s up to you to cremate those last remains.”
Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code.
In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed that load.
In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring,
Howled out their woes to the homeless snows—O God! how I loathed the thing.
And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow;
And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low;
The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in;
And I’d often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.
Finding boat to cremate Sam McGee.
Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there lay;
It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the “Alice May.”
And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum;
Then “Here,” said I, with a sudden cry, “is my cre-ma-tor-eum.”
Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire;
Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher;
The flames just soared and the furnace roared—such a blaze you seldom see;
Then I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee.
Then I made a hike, for I didn’t like to hear him sizzle so;
And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to blow.
It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don’t know why;
And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky.
I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear;
But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near;
I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: “I’ll just take a peep inside.
I guess he’s cooked, and it’s time I looked;” . . . then the door I opened wide.
Sam McGee sitting in the fire happy and warm.
And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar;
And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: “Please close that door.
It’s fine in here, but I greatly fear you’ll let in the cold and storm—
Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it’s the first time I’ve been warm.”
There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.
Code 3
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KEVD18
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i only said one. just trying to keep this thing random.
dont want to compete with the grand inquisition thread......
Sasha
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I told you this that night, I was deeply offended.
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KEVD18
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yeah, and i told you i didnt belive you becuase you couldnt stop laughing while you said it.
Sasha
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Touche, sir. Touche.
Sasha
Forum Chief
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How much you wanna bet you get banned from the site for a few days for this thread?
Sasha
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Sitting here watching Conen OBrien, I'm reminded of our dear Igor. I think Igor should have his own talk show, because a) he's funny, and b) he has an accent!
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KEVD18
Forum Deputy Chief
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whatever for? can you point me to any rule that it violates?
im not being critical of any particular rule or any particular mod. its merely a thread about nothing. wasnt there a very popular sitcom that ran for an impressive 9 years that was about nothing? in fact, this show was so popular it has significantly influenced american culture. and it was about nothing. the daily goings on of regualr people and their inherent flight of ideas. if it was okay for the national broadcasting company, shouldnt it be okay here?
Sasha
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It is not EMS themed on an EMS forum, and you kind of seem to harbour a little hostility towards CLs!
gillysaurus
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DONE DONE DONE with finals!! Boooyah!
I was a medical patient for two sections of NREMT practical today. Of the 29 students who came through my station, I can say I would only feel comfortable with four actually being my EMT. Sad.
And Kev, some of the things you say are so freaking clever. You remind me of my brother... Clever when angry ^_^
I was a medical patient for two sections of NREMT practical today. Of the 29 students who came through my station, I can say I would only feel comfortable with four actually being my EMT. Sad.
And Kev, some of the things you say are so freaking clever. You remind me of my brother... Clever when angry ^_^
Sasha
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KEVD18
Forum Deputy Chief
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being relevant isnt a requirment for this sub board. lots of stuff posted here isnt necessarily ems related. the same is true for the humor section.
i have at times been unhappy with some of our esteemed community leaders for reasons i ahve discussed with each of them personally but im not overtly hostile and never have been.
Sasha
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Ooooooh guess what. SASHA TURNS 21 in 8 DAYS!!!!!
Yet, strangely, my birthday isn't listen on the calendar :glare:
Yet, strangely, my birthday isn't listen on the calendar :glare: