Hey, LMNO...

[Freeky]

Thuthan.

[LMNO]

Well, just don't call me late for dinner!

[Cramulus]

Well, just don't call me late for dinner!

[Jasper]

Sometimes I read it in my head as "Lemon-o".

[Golden Applesauce]

Ellemmenno

[Jasper]

Avgolemono.

[LMNO]

Dear Doktor Howl, I have a few logistical questions:

Who is the author of the original pieces attributed to TGRR? 

Do you prefer to keep the TGRR moniker on the scribd hardcopy?

Your previous two rants were written and recorded by TGRR; any future recordings will be written by TGRR and recited by Doktor Howl -- how would you like this to be credited on the album/website?

[Doktor Howl]

Dear Doktor Howl, I have a few logistical questions:

Who is the author of the original pieces attributed to TGRR? 

Do you prefer to keep the TGRR moniker on the scribd hardcopy?

Your previous two rants were written and recorded by TGRR; any future recordings will be written by TGRR and recited by Doktor Howl -- how would you like this to be credited on the album/website?

Leave any extant pieces with the original attribution, written or spoken.  No need to complicate things.

[Ari]

Ok, in light of the current bru-ha-ha, I would like permission to use the content of these posts in a different medium.

Would the following people please sign off approving my possible use of their work:

TGRR
Richter
Kai
RWHN
Nigel
Jenne
Squid
Cainad
000
Cram
Corvidia
planeswalker
GA
Eater of Clowns
Rat


If content is used, attribution will be given.

Thanks,
LMNO




[Edit: Names in Bold have signed off.]

late due to absence, but do as you seem fit.

http://www.scribd.com/doc/26344746/Hey-LMNO-v3

Got it down early

yes, yes, yes!

[Triple Zero]

Did I not yet give my permission? I'm sure I did.

[Juana]

I was previously Corvidia and feel free to use it.

[President Television]

I'm so snug in my cocoon. It's MY cocoon, and the spiders made it Just For Me. It's got everything I need, really. They really thought this through, I can't give them enough credit. It's nice and warm and dry, and it even keeps out the nasty voices. The outside voices. The voices I used to hear when I lost focus. Those voices really used to bother me. They whispered in my ears, and the things they whispered were scary things. They told me to think for myself. They told me to ask questions, uncomfortable questions that no one seemed to like asking. But then the spiders came with needles, and they fixed all that. They injected me with their venom, but you know what, I don't like calling it that. I prefer to call it medicine. Venom is a dangerous word for dangerous people, and we don't like dangerous people. So let's call it medicine, shall we? I was injected with the medicine, and at first I felt a little mushy inside, but don't worry, you get used to it after a while. After a while, you realize that there's no point in twitching any longer, and you just sit there. And then you're happy. Everything is taken care of.

Sometimes, I'll feel the pedipalps poking into my back and licking away, but I know that's got to be my imagination. It's got to be. It's just a hole in my cocoon. A little more medicine will patch it all up. Right?

[LMNO]

http://www.scribd.com/doc/26344746/Hey-LMNO-v3

Got it down early

Hey, uh... "periodman"...

Is there any way you can add Mistress Freeky's rant to the scribd doc?  Now that RB has recorded it, it would probably be a good idea to include it.

These webs are so cozy, so warm, they keep me asleep most of the time. I dream then. I dream of a world that is imperfect, but full of HappyTM. I dream of an easy way to live, full of nice things, and other people who also have nice things, and some other people that we never talk about because that is Not Done. And the others do, too, of similar things. But in dreaming, a person can change nothing, only watch, and go along with things sometimes. That's what the spiders say, anyway.

And when I get tired of dreaming, I groggily open my clouded eyes. I remember that it's gray and gloomy here, and these webs that span the spaces between glistening and shiny towers, they reach as high as the clouds. The space at the top, the spiders tell us, is for the special people, the people they tell us to love as much as they love us. These webs also reach all the way to the ground, and it is crowded down here.  I see everyone around me, so long entangled that they no longer see the strands, and they cast aspersions on people who think "badwrong" thoughts, or them that refuse the pills, and the weirdos who don't like the glowing box. They even gnash their teeth at those on the Hamster Wheel, accomplishing everything in a short space of time what we in the web always wanted to do but never got around to in the whole of our lives.

The streets are strewn with trash and filth, while way up at the top (the spiders say) it is clean and bright and there are fewer strands of web, not that the web is a bad thing, oh no, it is nice and snug and is very comforting, and the spiders made it specially for us. But sometimes the web down here at the bottom is coarse, and heavy, and blinding, and suffocating.

Someday, say the spiders who love us, if you work hard enough, we might just let you climb to the top and see for yourself how nice it is. Won't that be nice? But you have to work harder. You're not working hard enough yet.

Until someday comes, me and everyone else down here will have to settle for the almost-kind-of-bright light (though most days it just seems gray and overcast, and dark and gloomy, even when I look up to the top of the web, between the very tops of those shining, glassy skyscrapers. And if being awake becomes too unbearable, the spiders can sing us a lullaby of two layers, one that helps you get to sleep fast and another to help you stay asleep, and we can dream and dream and dream.

[Doktor Howl]

I will have a quiet place to record tomorrow.  I will finish mine then.

[LMNO]

Oooh, goody.