CaptainWacky
I want to smell dark matter
I don't think my body was designed for life.
Troll Kingdom
This is a sample guest message. Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!
I can barley move
- Thread starter CaptainWacky
- Start date
Fuddlemiff
Is this real life?
CaptainWacky
I want to smell dark matter
Remember Nathan Barley/
CaptainWacky
I want to smell dark matter
Forget that post, what is that thing?
FBI parte due
Folces Weard
predatorpumpkin-large-102508.jpg
CaptainWacky
I want to smell dark matter
Oh. It isn't designed for life either.
The Tomtrek
Love Wookiee
Fuddlemiff
Is this real life?
The predator's mouth looks like Jodie Marsh's hoo haa.
FBI parte due
Folces Weard
There was a girl at my high school who looked like a Predator (not racist).
Eggs Mayonnaise
All In With The Nuts
I AM THE GHOST OF JACOB BARLEY.
CaptainWacky
I want to smell dark matter
BRING OUT YOUR DEAD.
CaptainWacky
I want to smell dark matter
not even here
FBI parte due
Folces Weard
Fortunately, Peter's life wasn't always so darkly destructive. There were brighter, zanier moments, most of them involving insulting the Church under wild inebriation. In 1692, Peter got some of his friends together and christened themselves the "Most Drunken Synod", and parodied the entry of Christ into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday by having Peter's friend Matvei Flilmonovich ("an elderly drunkard related to the family of the tsar's mother," Anderson tells us) ride on a camel to an inn, "where riotous drinking took place." While this might seem like an exercise better relegated to fraternities, yet perhaps forgivable on a one-off basis, recall this is Peter the Great, who did nothing half way. Anderson elaborates:
The purpose of these childishly provocative ceremonies remains obscure. There is no doubt that Peter himself attached importance to the 'Synod': he wrote out its relatively complex rules with his own hand and revised them several times. A generation later one of the last acts of his life was to attend one of its meetings.
It should not surprise our gentle readers that our buddy Voltaire just couldn't resist such a colorful (and drunk) subject. His biography of Peter the Great displays the smug attitude that got him beaten so often. He notes, "We could not expect the amusements of Peter's day to be as noble or as refined as they have become since," but seems to think some of them were OK, if not downright juicy. The following narrative from Voltaire's work requires no commentary:
Before promulgating his ecclesiastical laws, he created one of his court jesters pope and celebrated the Festival of the Conclave. The jester, whose name was Zotov [later a camel-rider in the Most Drunken Synod. -HH], was eighty-four years old. The tsar conceived the idea of marrying him to a widow as old as himself, and of solemnly celebrating the nuptials. The guests were invited by four stammerers; some decrepit old men escorted the bride, while four of the fattest men in Russia served as runners. The band was on a cart drawn by bears goaded with steel points, which, by their roaring, provided a bass worthy of the tunes being played on the wagon. The bride and groom were blessed in the cathedral by a blind and deaf priest wearing spectacles. The procession, the wedding ceremony, the nuptial feast, the disrobing of the bridal couple, and the ritual of putting them to bed were all equally appropriate to the buffoonery of the entertainment.
Stutterers, fat men, and nude octogenarians. Sheer genius, and he brought a backward eighteenth century Russia up to step with Europe to boot.
The purpose of these childishly provocative ceremonies remains obscure. There is no doubt that Peter himself attached importance to the 'Synod': he wrote out its relatively complex rules with his own hand and revised them several times. A generation later one of the last acts of his life was to attend one of its meetings.
It should not surprise our gentle readers that our buddy Voltaire just couldn't resist such a colorful (and drunk) subject. His biography of Peter the Great displays the smug attitude that got him beaten so often. He notes, "We could not expect the amusements of Peter's day to be as noble or as refined as they have become since," but seems to think some of them were OK, if not downright juicy. The following narrative from Voltaire's work requires no commentary:
Before promulgating his ecclesiastical laws, he created one of his court jesters pope and celebrated the Festival of the Conclave. The jester, whose name was Zotov [later a camel-rider in the Most Drunken Synod. -HH], was eighty-four years old. The tsar conceived the idea of marrying him to a widow as old as himself, and of solemnly celebrating the nuptials. The guests were invited by four stammerers; some decrepit old men escorted the bride, while four of the fattest men in Russia served as runners. The band was on a cart drawn by bears goaded with steel points, which, by their roaring, provided a bass worthy of the tunes being played on the wagon. The bride and groom were blessed in the cathedral by a blind and deaf priest wearing spectacles. The procession, the wedding ceremony, the nuptial feast, the disrobing of the bridal couple, and the ritual of putting them to bed were all equally appropriate to the buffoonery of the entertainment.
Stutterers, fat men, and nude octogenarians. Sheer genius, and he brought a backward eighteenth century Russia up to step with Europe to boot.
Eggs Mayonnaise
All In With The Nuts
LEAVE PETER O'TOOLE ALONE! HE WAS ONLY FOLLOWING ORDERS (from his liver)
FBI parte due
Folces Weard
Russians can hold approximately 30 gallons of vodka. He had no excuse.