Rockpick's "Nearly World Famous" Insert the Caption Game
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From: Lockport, La.
Bobbie's try to arrest Mother Goose for indecent exposure. She's still on the run!
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From: Burleson/Athens/Brownsboro, TX
Filming for the latest filming of Swan lake had to be halted due to the star angrily stalking off the set. It seems he was protesting the condition of the poor housing, poor food and the lack of female companionship on the set.
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Jim
Jim
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Joined: Feb 1999
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From: the moral high ground
They're just picking up geese for questioning, it was goats what done it.
We was comin' back from Indianapolis... just delivered goats milk.
Took the shortest route and passed through one of the largest goats pen there is west of the Mississippi. Hundred eleven men went into the pen.
Didn't see the first goat for about a half an hour. Angora. 45-pounder. You know how you know that when you're in the pen, Chief?
You tell by looking hoof impression in the dirt.
What we didn't know was, the trek had been so casual no one noticed the gate had locked behind us. They didn't even list us overdue for a week.
Very first light, Chief, goats come cruisin', so we formed ourselves into tight groups. You know, it was kinda like old squares in the battle like you see in the calendar named "The Battle of Waterloo" and the idea was: goat comes to the nearest man, that man he starts poundin' and hollerin' and screamin' and sometimes the goat will go away... but sometimes he wouldn't go away.
Sometimes that goat he looks right into ya. Right into your eyes. And, you know, the thing about a goat... he's got lifeless eyes.
Black eyes. Like a doll's eyes.
When he comes at ya, doesn't seem to be living... until he bites ya, and those black eyes roll over white and then... ah then you hear that terrible high-pitched screamin'.
The field turns red, and despite all the poundin' and the hollerin', they all come in and they... rip you to pieces.
You know by the end of that first dawn, lost ten men. I don't know how many goats, maybe a thousand. I know how many men, they averaged six an hour.
On Thursday morning, Chief, I bumped into a friend of mine, Herbie Robinson from Cleveland. Baseball player. Shearer's apprentice. I thought he was asleep.
I reached over to wake him up. He bobbed up, down in the pen just like a kinda top. Upended. Well, he'd been bitten in half below the waist.
Noon, the fifth day, Mr. Hooper, a traffic coptor saw us. He swung in low and he saw us... he was a young pilot, a lot younger than Mr. Hooper.
Anyway, he saw us and he come in low and three hours later a big fat St Police chopper comes down and starts to pick us up.
You know that was the time I was most frightened... waitin' for my turn. I'll never put on coveralls again.
So, hundred eleven men went in the pen; 31 men come out and the goats took the rest, June the 29th, 1965.
Anyway, we delivered the milk.
We was comin' back from Indianapolis... just delivered goats milk.
Took the shortest route and passed through one of the largest goats pen there is west of the Mississippi. Hundred eleven men went into the pen.
Didn't see the first goat for about a half an hour. Angora. 45-pounder. You know how you know that when you're in the pen, Chief?
You tell by looking hoof impression in the dirt.
What we didn't know was, the trek had been so casual no one noticed the gate had locked behind us. They didn't even list us overdue for a week.
Very first light, Chief, goats come cruisin', so we formed ourselves into tight groups. You know, it was kinda like old squares in the battle like you see in the calendar named "The Battle of Waterloo" and the idea was: goat comes to the nearest man, that man he starts poundin' and hollerin' and screamin' and sometimes the goat will go away... but sometimes he wouldn't go away.
Sometimes that goat he looks right into ya. Right into your eyes. And, you know, the thing about a goat... he's got lifeless eyes.
Black eyes. Like a doll's eyes.
When he comes at ya, doesn't seem to be living... until he bites ya, and those black eyes roll over white and then... ah then you hear that terrible high-pitched screamin'.
The field turns red, and despite all the poundin' and the hollerin', they all come in and they... rip you to pieces.
You know by the end of that first dawn, lost ten men. I don't know how many goats, maybe a thousand. I know how many men, they averaged six an hour.
On Thursday morning, Chief, I bumped into a friend of mine, Herbie Robinson from Cleveland. Baseball player. Shearer's apprentice. I thought he was asleep.
I reached over to wake him up. He bobbed up, down in the pen just like a kinda top. Upended. Well, he'd been bitten in half below the waist.
Noon, the fifth day, Mr. Hooper, a traffic coptor saw us. He swung in low and he saw us... he was a young pilot, a lot younger than Mr. Hooper.
Anyway, he saw us and he come in low and three hours later a big fat St Police chopper comes down and starts to pick us up.
You know that was the time I was most frightened... waitin' for my turn. I'll never put on coveralls again.
So, hundred eleven men went in the pen; 31 men come out and the goats took the rest, June the 29th, 1965.
Anyway, we delivered the milk.
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From: The Bluegrass State
FIRST PLACE
SECOND PLACE
THIRD PLACE
HONORABLE MENTION
(sorry Raoul).
-RP-
SECOND PLACE
HONORABLE MENTION
(sorry Raoul).
-RP-
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Joined: Jul 2001
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From: Hammer Lane
They're just picking up geese for questioning, it was goats what done it.
We was comin' back from Indianapolis... just delivered goats milk.
Took the shortest route and passed through one of the largest goats pen there is west of the Mississippi. Hundred eleven men went into the pen.
Didn't see the first goat for about a half an hour. Angora. 45-pounder. You know how you know that when you're in the pen, Chief?
You tell by looking hoof impression in the dirt.
What we didn't know was, the trek had been so casual no one noticed the gate had locked behind us. They didn't even list us overdue for a week.
Very first light, Chief, goats come cruisin', so we formed ourselves into tight groups. You know, it was kinda like old squares in the battle like you see in the calendar named "The Battle of Waterloo" and the idea was: goat comes to the nearest man, that man he starts poundin' and hollerin' and screamin' and sometimes the goat will go away... but sometimes he wouldn't go away.
Sometimes that goat he looks right into ya. Right into your eyes. And, you know, the thing about a goat... he's got lifeless eyes.
Black eyes. Like a doll's eyes.
When he comes at ya, doesn't seem to be living... until he bites ya, and those black eyes roll over white and then... ah then you hear that terrible high-pitched screamin'.
The field turns red, and despite all the poundin' and the hollerin', they all come in and they... rip you to pieces.
You know by the end of that first dawn, lost ten men. I don't know how many goats, maybe a thousand. I know how many men, they averaged six an hour.
On Thursday morning, Chief, I bumped into a friend of mine, Herbie Robinson from Cleveland. Baseball player. Shearer's apprentice. I thought he was asleep.
I reached over to wake him up. He bobbed up, down in the pen just like a kinda top. Upended. Well, he'd been bitten in half below the waist.
Noon, the fifth day, Mr. Hooper, a traffic coptor saw us. He swung in low and he saw us... he was a young pilot, a lot younger than Mr. Hooper.
Anyway, he saw us and he come in low and three hours later a big fat St Police chopper comes down and starts to pick us up.
You know that was the time I was most frightened... waitin' for my turn. I'll never put on coveralls again.
So, hundred eleven men went in the pen; 31 men come out and the goats took the rest, June the 29th, 1965.
Anyway, we delivered the milk.
We was comin' back from Indianapolis... just delivered goats milk.
Took the shortest route and passed through one of the largest goats pen there is west of the Mississippi. Hundred eleven men went into the pen.
Didn't see the first goat for about a half an hour. Angora. 45-pounder. You know how you know that when you're in the pen, Chief?
You tell by looking hoof impression in the dirt.
What we didn't know was, the trek had been so casual no one noticed the gate had locked behind us. They didn't even list us overdue for a week.
Very first light, Chief, goats come cruisin', so we formed ourselves into tight groups. You know, it was kinda like old squares in the battle like you see in the calendar named "The Battle of Waterloo" and the idea was: goat comes to the nearest man, that man he starts poundin' and hollerin' and screamin' and sometimes the goat will go away... but sometimes he wouldn't go away.
Sometimes that goat he looks right into ya. Right into your eyes. And, you know, the thing about a goat... he's got lifeless eyes.
Black eyes. Like a doll's eyes.
When he comes at ya, doesn't seem to be living... until he bites ya, and those black eyes roll over white and then... ah then you hear that terrible high-pitched screamin'.
The field turns red, and despite all the poundin' and the hollerin', they all come in and they... rip you to pieces.
You know by the end of that first dawn, lost ten men. I don't know how many goats, maybe a thousand. I know how many men, they averaged six an hour.
On Thursday morning, Chief, I bumped into a friend of mine, Herbie Robinson from Cleveland. Baseball player. Shearer's apprentice. I thought he was asleep.
I reached over to wake him up. He bobbed up, down in the pen just like a kinda top. Upended. Well, he'd been bitten in half below the waist.
Noon, the fifth day, Mr. Hooper, a traffic coptor saw us. He swung in low and he saw us... he was a young pilot, a lot younger than Mr. Hooper.
Anyway, he saw us and he come in low and three hours later a big fat St Police chopper comes down and starts to pick us up.
You know that was the time I was most frightened... waitin' for my turn. I'll never put on coveralls again.
So, hundred eleven men went in the pen; 31 men come out and the goats took the rest, June the 29th, 1965.
Anyway, we delivered the milk.
"JAWS VII: Milked Billy Goat's Revenge"
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Joined: Feb 1999
Posts: 6,182
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From: the moral high ground
I coulda used 1/4 of knife when I was fending for myself in that pen!
But does anyone think about what I've went through in my life when awards are handed out? NO!
I'm not bitter.
And I'm not asking for a recount. (...unless you want to, it's entirely up to you)
But does anyone think about what I've went through in my life when awards are handed out? NO!
I'm not bitter.
And I'm not asking for a recount. (...unless you want to, it's entirely up to you)
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From: Burleson/Athens/Brownsboro, TX
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Jim
Jim
