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WOSSNAME -- MAY 2006 -- PART 2 OF 3 (continued)

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  • JSCHAUM111@aol.com
    WOSSNAME -- MAY 2006 -- PART 2 OF 3 (continued) ... oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo 5) SONG OF THE MONTH WE WILL SURVIVE (Cohen and the
    Message 1 of 1 , May 31, 2006
      WOSSNAME -- MAY 2006 -- PART 2 OF 3 (continued)


      (Cohen and the Silver Horde,)

      by Weird Alice Lancrevic,
      with apologies to Gloria Gaynor

      First we were untamed, all uncivilised
      Plund'ring the Disc for jewels and temple-girls with creamy thighs
      But we sacked too many sites, til Teach said, "You do it wrong"
      Still, we were strong
      So much stronger than Lord Hong

      And so we're back, from certain Death
      If we can pillage and carouse
      We don't need poncy things like breath
      We stole the Agateans' throne, though it was under lock and key
      Then, after giving them their freedom,
      Conquered Cori Ce-les-ti
      We're gone but no, we haven't left
      Just turn around slow
      Or by a broadsword you'll be cleft
      We brought fire back to the gods
      And jumped off the mountainside - you think we tumbled
      When there were Valkyries to ride?!

      Oh no, not us, we will survive
      As long as we can swing a sword
      We will keep the myth alive
      We've got loincloths, we've got power, we've got virgins to deflower
      And we'll survive, we will survive.

      It took all the strength we had to defeat the gods
      We tricked 'em good with rotten fish and brazened out the odds
      Since Vena spent so many nights
      Just knitting chain mail 'for the boys'
      We slice and strut (that's just Hamish, yelling "WHUT?")
      And you'll see Cohen, Old Vincent too
      Caleb and Truckle and Boy WIllie, charging down on you
      We'll come to save (and wreck) the day
      We won't politely fade away
      There are thrones yet to be trodden
      See, we're still dogs in our day

      Oh yes, that's us, we will survive
      As long as Discworld needs its heroes, the Silver Horde will thrive
      We've got chutzpah, we've got guts
      We've got Hamish, yelling "WHUT?!"
      And we'll survive
      We will survive
      We will sur- "WHUT?"


      by Lady Anaemia Asterisk

      Hello, my dear little Zodiac zingers! I'm back. Having chased that
      upstart bard Weird Alice Lancrevic back to her own overpaid corner,
      I've decided to do a bit of horoscopic housekeeping. You've already
      long since been given the lucky number, colour and fruit for each of
      your Signs, so this month I'm bringing you your Heavenly Letters.
      Hidden cunningly in each logological letterfest is a fair amount of
      advice from the stars above. Read on and enjoy!


      The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr

      Your heavenly letter is: S

      The sanguine synthesise sandalwood sabres and sterling silver sabots
      sell sausage sandwiches, sushi, and skewered shellfish. A soothing
      sabbatical satiates scholarly sages. Softly skirt stertorous
      septuagenarians; soft-soap senescent strangers sidestep smoggy
      streets for snowy southern slopes. Survey superb supernatural sites
      serenely. Shocking scoop: Sybil serves Sam sloppy seconds! Surly
      soromancers sully stylish salons.

      Tip of the month: shave slowly!


      Gahoolie, the Vase of Tulips 21 Apr - 21 May

      Your heavenly letter is: A

      Agatean alchemists, arrogantly astir, aerate arcane anhydrous
      aggregates. Agony Aunts arrive abreast; assassins augur abattoir
      activities. Archancellors, arms akimbo, affirm absolute authority.
      Aggressive Amazonian acrobats annoy author Anaemia Asterisk. Ankh's
      animal attractions: anteater, albatross, allosaurus, auk and
      armadillo. Attention! Ascorbic acid and alcohol aid and ameliorate
      aches, ague and assorted additional ailments.

      Tip of the month: avoid azaleas.


      Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun

      Your heavenly letter is: M

      Make merry in May! Marvellous month, May. Many malcontents
      mercilessly mock municipal maidens; malnourished minstrels' mournful
      madrigals mock melancholy mediums. Masterfully masticate melons meat
      and maraschinos. Moody? -- martially mollicate mangy missionaries.
      Mustn't miss meals! Marry, Mistress, many mighty midgets means
      minute men mount minuscule masquerades. Meanwhile, misinformed
      ministers monopolise mayonnaise.

      Tip of the month: mistrust marmosets.


      The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul

      Your heavenly letter is: G

      Gather for gustatory gambols, gallant gourmands: garnished goose
      with ginger and garlic, gazpacho, giblets and gorgonzola. Gorge
      gluttonously on gallons of grapes; gargle glasses of grappa; gobble
      Gimlet's golden gelatine. Giggle, goggle, gaily grab gigantic
      guavas, gefilte-fish, gherkins and guacamole. Get greater garments.
      Gurgle. guzzle, get going, good grief.

      Tip of the month: gouge grouse.


      Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug

      Your heavenly letter is: H

      Hist, o hepatic hatters, hobnobbing hucksters and hamfisted
      Hublanders! Hie hence, o henpecked husbands, harried homemakers,
      haughty houris and hapless hoydens! Hark, hungover hedonists! Here's
      help for your hazardous hobby: holistic herbalists heal heavy hearts
      and huge headaches. Hazy holiday? Have hair of the hedgehog.
      Hogshead horrors? Hide hurts with holy honeybee hock. Heavenly!

      Tip of the month: harangue hamsters.


      Mubbo the Hyena 24 Aug - 23 Sept

      Your heavenly letter is: O

      Obey the ordained of Om. Omit obfuscation, optimise opportunities,
      and occlude oracles. Openly ogle Oggs owlishly. Osculate ovines
      outdoors; obsess overtly over olfactory oils. Obtain ornamental
      oarsmen, offset offside operators, orchestrate oblong ormolu ospreys
      and other opera-house owners. Obscenely outrange oracles; oppose
      oafish ostlers. Offski? One oughtta!

      Tip of the month: ossify ocelots.


      The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct

      Your heavenly letter is: C

      Capricious causality creates cranial chaos -- cry, cringe, clamour,
      caterwaul! Cunningly cheat cartographical carnage; cling chastely to
      cowardly catatonia. Cherish companionable contentment. Cleanse
      cluttered closets. Crush cranberries and celery for a cooling
      collation. Counter crawling, creeping cephalopods and crustaceans
      with citronella. Compliment crocodiles, castigate centaurs, charm
      cheetahs. Collapsing ceiling? -- Careful!

      Tip of the month: collect coelacanths.


      Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov

      Your heavenly letter is: P

      Pished? Pixillated? Piffle! Prance, primp, pirouette; procure piquant
      potions and phials of phantasmagorical philtres; pander preciously
      to palpable pecuniary peccadilloes. Promote pinkly passionate purple
      prose in pleasant public places. Pulchritude powers prurient
      pneumatic prowess on pastoral pelmets. Provable pillow pressure? --
      Pull, parvenu!

      Tip of the month: pamper pineapples.


      Great T'Phon's Foot 23 Nov - 21 Dec

      Your heavenly letter is: B

      Beware Banjo, baobabs, bananananas, borzois, bold bustards,
      bedraggled badgers and batrachian badinage. Becalmed behind balsa
      banisters? Bothered by beastly banzai barristers? Bring benevolent
      bedbugs before bellicose beer-bellied batters. Bare bicuspids.
      Blushing brides: beckon benign brigadiers between benighted
      bedclothes. Brilliant brinksmanship buries blinkered bravoes.

      Tip of the month: banish Bueller!


      Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan

      Your heavenly letter is: F

      Foppish, farthingale'd felons frighten feckless fabulists. Feisty,
      fruits fillies feast on frangipani, fuchsias and figgins. Frozen
      fjords feature fairly fallow frigates. February's fiery femur falls
      to fantastical febrifuges; fiddlers flay flesh from fraught fingers.
      Feature filial faithfulness, forsooth!

      Tip of the month: fatten frogs.


      The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb

      Your heavenly letter is: L

      Languid libertines lecherously like lycanthropes. Lumbering
      laboratory lagomorphs locate Luggage. Letterheads lend lasting
      legitimacy. Lugubrious lawyers lambaste larrikins; local lunatics
      lynch licentious legislators. Lave lingerie in luminescent lye.
      Leopards lazily lick lemonade lollies. Love loose leather? -
      lubricate lederhosen!

      Tip of the month: liberate Librarians.


      Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar

      Your heavenly letter is: U

      Umpteen urbane urban underwriters ululate uncannily. Upstanding
      uppercrust uncles upbraid ugly usurers. Ursine urgency: unbear-able
      urea. Unusual umpires ultimately utilise umbrella urns. Uffish
      umbles? - ugh! Uxorious ushers in umber ulsters use ukuleles
      upstairs. Unwary utopianists unleash umbrage upon unearthly
      ungulates' ulcerous ultramarine udders. Unruly urchins upset unique
      unicyclists. Unsure? Upgrade unto uranium!

      Tip of the month: unite unicorns.
      End of Part 2, says my computer -- continued on Part 3 of 3
      If you did not get all 3 parts, write: jschaum111@...

      [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
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