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PATTY, If one of your dance partners grinds his grunge into you.... ....let your emotions be your guide. after all...this thread is subtitled... ....."TIME TO UNCLENCH YOUR KEESTER" Gotta go to work. Looking forward to hearing good news on the dawn of the New Year!! GO FOR THE GOLD, DEARIE !! DEEP

PATTY, Do it for me. I'll feel much better knowing that you will awaken to the New Year with a smile on your face, satisfied that you have been penetrated properly. In short: DO IT FOR DEEP!!! DEEP p.s. Wear a long sleeve blouse. That Turkey Waddle under your arms could put a kabosh on the evening.

Patty, Do this small thing for DEEP. Head to the nearest drug store and pick up a pack of Trojans. Then take a cab to your local pick-up joint. It's New Years eve. There have to be several men in their early sixties (possible widowers) who will be willing to squirt all over you. Take one back to your crib and just leap up and down on him until the maple leafs on the Canuck flag have all fallen off. Every time you have a climax yell out..."DEEP" !!!!! Make the Dild some coffee in the morning, thank him, and send him on his way. You'll feel better, I'LL FEEL BETTER FOR YOU, Christiern will respect you, and you will have brought in the NEW YEAR with.... ......*A BANG* !!!! I'd do it for you but I've got a gig and I'm about 3,000 miles away. HAPPY NEW YEAR !! DEEP

Have a great time. Your suggestions are noted and for the last time, I'm that tall, not that old. HAPPY NEW YEAR to you too. HAPPY NEW YEAR TO YOU, PATTY. I must fess up....One of my New Year resolutions is that I will refrain from masturbating with you in mind (and I must say...they have been some of my better ejaculations). I LOVE YOU, PATTY. DEEP

Patty, Thank you very much for your quick response. (I knew you could do it). Now then....I have to get some rest because I have a gig tonight (on bass) but please allow me to recommend the following: Please get off the computer, pour yourself a stiff drink and do one of the following: 1. Call a cab and head to the nearest gin mill and sit at the bar. Wait for a cat to hit on you. Check his wallet for a *ring mark* and if one exists, invite him to your crib and fuck his brains out. 2. Call the nearest bar and order a STUD!!! 3. Fire up Ol' Throbber (your Dildo) and at Midnight.....GO FUCKING NUTS!! You are a very well preserved 64 year old...PUT IT TO GOOD USE...DUH !! HAPPY NEW YEAR!! DEEP

By Boyd Senter (of Boyd Senter & his Senterpeeds fame), When you get what you want in your struggle for pelf, And the world makes you King for a day, Then go to the mirror and look at yourself, And see what that guy has to say. For it isn't your Father, or Mother (IN- LAW), or Wife, Who judgment upon you must pass. The feller whose verdict counts most in your life Is the guy staring back from the glass. He's the feller to please, never mind all the rest, For he's with you clear up to the end, And you've passed your most dangerous, difficult test If the guy in the glass is your friend. You may be like *Jack* Horner and "chisel" a plum, And think you're a wonderful guy, But the man in the glass says you're only a bum If you can't look him straight in the eye. You can fool the whole world down the pathway of years, And get pats on the back as you pass, But your final reward will be heartaches and tears If you've cheated the guy in the glass. [PATTY, GIVE US A RUN DOWN OF THIS GENIUS] DEEP

Picky. Picky. OK. ONE of the best. Patty, You have GOT to either, get to your nearest Optical Barr, or GET OFF THE SAUCE. Review your reply to Chritiern and tell the group what you think is wrong with it. DEEP

I thought you Dildies & Dildsies would like to read his full letter unedited. There are some really beautiful things that Ken Burns left out. This is from Sullivan Ballou and it was written when a man knew how to write a love letter AND knew how to spell (take note, Patty). LETTER TO HIS WIFE (1861) My very dear Sarah: The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days -- perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write you again, I feel impelled to write lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more. Our movement may be one of a few days duration and full of pleasure -- and it may be one of severe conflict and death to me. Not my will, but thine O God, be done. If it is necessary that I should fall on the battlefield for my country, I am ready. I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in, the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how strongly American Civilization now leans upon the triumph of the Government, and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and suffering of the Revolution. And I am willing -- perfectly willing -- to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this Government, and to pay that debt. But, my dear wife, when I know that with my own joys I lay down nearly all of yours, and replace them in this life with cares and sorrows -- when, after having eaten for long years the bitter fruit of orphanage myself, I must offer it as their only sustenance to my dear little children -- is it weak or dishonorable, while the banner of my purpose floats calmly and proudly in the breeze, that my unbounded love for you, my darling wife and children, should struggle in fierce, though useless, contest with my love of country? I cannot describe to you my feelings on this calm summer night, when two thousand men are sleeping around me, many of them enjoying the last, perhaps, before that of death -- and I, suspicious that Death is creeping behind me with his fatal dart, am communing with God, my country, and thee. I have sought most closely and diligently, and often in my breast, for a wrong motive in thus hazarding the happiness of those I loved and I could not find one. A pure love of my country and of the principles I have often advocated before the people and "the name of honor that I love more than I fear death" have called upon me, and I have obeyed. Sarah, my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me to you with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me irresistibly on with all these chains to the battlefield. The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when God willing, we might still have lived and loved together, and seen our sons grow up to honorable manhood around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me -- perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar -- that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield, it will whisper your name. Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have oftentimes been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness, and struggle with all the misfortune of this world, to shield you and my children from harm. But I cannot. I must watch you from the spirit land and hover near you, while you buffet the storms with your precious little freight, and wait with sad patience till we meet to part no more. But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the garish day and in the darkest night -- amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours -- always, always; and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath; or the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by. Sarah, do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again. As for my little boys, they will grow as I have done, and never know a father's love and care. Little Willie is too young to remember me long, and my blue-eyed Edgar will keep my frolics with him among the dimmest memories of his childhood. Sarah, I have unlimited confidence in your maternal care and your development of their characters. Tell my two mothers his and hers I call God's blessing upon them. O Sarah, I wait for you there! Come to me, and lead thither my children.

Hmm, Patty's so front-end loaded, that she fears tipping over, and DEEP's got a hypertrophic "Johnson." Entertaining thread folks!

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PATTY, I think this is one topic you would be better to NOT *TOUCH* UPON!! (Heat seeking *MUFF*) Missile knows of the impressive endowment of JOE MAINI'S root....and, I'm sure he knows of the exploits of THE *DEEP* ROOT In short: (There we go again) STAY OFF IT!!! DEEP Wasn't Joe Maneri or Maini the musician who used to air his out on the bandstand, topped with a hat, tipped at a rakish angle, causing mass merriment among his fellow bandmates?? PATTY, Joe Maneri is that fat, no playing toad that Reynolds was always raving about at THE WOD'S. Joe Maini killed himself playing Russian Roulette but his photo *HUNG* in the Union hall in L.A. with his FIREMAN'S HAT (aka GERMAN HELMET) displayed above his belt. MY STALK WOULD DWARF HIS This is man talk....JUMP THREAD!! DEEP

PATTY, I think this is one topic you would be better to NOT *TOUCH* UPON!! (Heat seeking *MUFF*) Missile knows of the impressive endowment of JOE MAINI'S root....and, I'm sure he knows of the exploits of THE *DEEP* ROOT In short: (There we go again) STAY OFF IT!!! DEEP

Ah, I see. I stand corrected and more informed than I ever wanted to be. Thank you. PATTY, I'm pleadin' with ya here. NO MORE SMILIES!!! They do not exhibit intelligence. SAY IT WITH WORDS!! These smilies are starting to work on my central nervous system. DEEP

PATTY, You know, it's ironic that you would try to asociate the inference to length. That is not it at all (though I'm sure that corrolation has recived your attention) THE KEY WORD IN THE ASSOCIATION IS: GIRTH!!!!!! DEEP

PATTY, If it takes a monkey two and a half hours to shingle a tin shithouse with potato peelings, how far does a rat turd have to fall to split a two inch plank?? DEEP

"VIC DICKERSON" ????? JEEZUS H. CHRIST!!!! GET REAL !! DEEP I was astounded as well, but it's true. Apparantly Dickerson played territory bands, during the late twenties, including Speed Webb's and also Zack White's. In the thirties he played with big bands, like Bennie Moten's, Blanche Calloway's and Claude Hopkins'. After that, he became house trombonist at the Savoy, after a spell of illness. The rest of his career is pretty well known, but, yes, he did play out in the hinterlands for a few years, including with "Speed" Webb. Everybody has to start somewhere and few burst onto the scene, fully formed. Call it an apprenticeship. Next........ FOR CHRISSAKES, PATTY. D-I-C-K-E-R-S-O-N??? SPELLCHECK, DEAR!! I "apparantly" (sic) worked with "DICKERSON" for two and a half years at Condon's. I guess I musta heard his name MISPRONOUNCED at the end of 2000 sets over the course of time.........DUH!!!! DEEP

Carrying over a joke from another thread. I don't own a gun, Patty, and wouldn't know how to shoot one. Well, I guess i could figure it out, but my aim wouldn't be very good and I'd be afraid of the loud bang. Whew. That's a relief. We Canadians are actually a peaceful people and ownership of my firearms was hereditory, and both are registered. They were my father's. Yes, I can use both, but don't and haven't for decades. So, fear not. As for the apparant shift toward Chicago, the majority is still to be heard from. I am still in the Lansing camp and would rather go to a specific one or two day deal, to see the band and meet the Organissimo board members. So, no surprise, I'm still for Lansing. And B-3, with all of us there, Lansing will become much more lively, at least for a couple of days. Hide your booze and women and take the kids off the streets!! Going to Chicago or to St Louis for the events there is another thing, I would think.

Carrying over a joke from another thread. I don't own a gun, Patty, and wouldn't know how to shoot one. Well, I guess i could figure it out, but my aim wouldn't be very good and I'd be afraid of the loud bang.

OK, WUMPS, Maurice Purtill was the drummer in Girl Crazy. I'm outta here until next week. Keep this thread neat, pristine, and squeaky clean. Remember, WRETCHEL and PATTY are ladies so all you Dildies watch your language. I got ORAGANISSIMO in the mail last night and screened the first few tracks. Excellent CD so far. I plan on putting it completely under the scope when I get back. Gotta do the final mix on the latest Big Band Bloviation in NYC. (See ya at Nola Studio noon on Monday, Christiern...I'll bring the jug). Don't forget your Christmas shopping folks: http://www.whodat.com/audio/dansextet/dimperio.htm If Staples chimes in with one of his infamous RODOMONTADES you Dildies handle it. GONE !! DEEP

Patty, That's all well and good, and we're all happy for you. NOW....please spell the word correctly and tell us what it means. Is that a difficult task for a sober woman of 64 years of age? DEEP OK. G-A-U-L-E-I-T-E-R. You're pretty sharp for an old fart. I hope I'm still as eagle-eyed as you when I am 78, as you have often said you are. I believe that the term refers to someone of pure German origins, for the purposes of recruitment in the Reich, the SS, or the German Army of the time. I'm no expert in German history, but it clearly was no compliment. Tough was wordy and quick on his liguistic feet, much like you.

Patty, That's all well and good, and we're all happy for you. NOW....please spell the word correctly and tell us what it means. Is that a difficult task for a sober woman of 64 years of age? DEEP

Patty, I think you're cloaked in the fog of inebriation. What is the word you're actually trying to state? (Maybe you better team up with a dictionary) DEEP No. If I were enebriated, I would be doing a solo tango on my coffee table instead of posting. I'm not vocabulary shy, just spell-challenged, not an indictable offence, as far as I know. I was actually quoting Tough who was using a term born out of the Nazi era in Germany, referring to the process of voluntary recruitment. I assumed it wasn't a compliment, but it isn't in my dictionary, so that wouldn't have helped. I knew how to spell it, but decided to mis-spell it.

Patty, I think you're cloaked in the fog of inebriation. What is the word you're actually trying to state? (Maybe you better team up with a dictionary) DEEP

Patty, You better team up with WRETCHEL and work on the CHEERS violation. In short: Bag the Dorsey issue...DUH!! DEEP

Christiern (PAL O' MINE), The movie Girl Crazy was filmed between Jan. 4th and May 19th 1943. A very dear friend of mine (now departed) named Moe Purtill was on drums with Dorsey in that movie. If he were still alive I'd have your answer but an educated guess would be the late, great MAURICE PURTILL. It wasn't Krupa, Patty. DEEP