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Post by dee on Oct 3, 2014 17:41:46 GMT -5
Once upolly-tito, in a land far awale, a young matrimole travellit for the count’n’census all checkly-box present’n’correckers there. Joseph trickly-how along the roam with Mary all two-square on the botty astrile a donkey, seekit accomodakers. Weary weary all eye-rubbit and achey in the legbole, theyr turned the corm and spied a taverl all glittery in the dark there. Jospeh rattatat on the doorclabber, and out stepped the innkeep, who doffly cap and questit “Pintly bitter and a dry-white?” “Oh no” said Joseph. “All knackerit from the travelode, and despery need of a bed for falollop’n’snoozit there” “Folly” said the innkeep. “All the accomodakers fully occupile, but if you trickly-how to the stablode, feel free to prostrale among the animolds in the straw there.” So off they trickly-how round the sigold, nudgit the cows and sheeplodes out the way, and pretty soon theye were out like a light. Now Mary was in the familode way, and dury the nightlopper she brought forth a new-borl infold all squawk’n’screamit like fingerdrobes down a blackboard there. Early the next mordy, arrivit severold shepherds. “Goodly morlode! We bring giftloppers for the ankley-biteloder, but we are simple agricold labourits, so don’t expect Nintendole or X-bokker. Just a bottley gold-top and a wedgeley cheeseopper.” “Deep joy” said Mary. “Joseph. Putly kettle-on for a cuffalo tea-dee. These chaploders deservit a tilty-elbow. Oh yes.” Just then, throo wisely men strollit through the door and bow’n’scrapeit before the infant there. “All hail the Holymost child! We have falollowed a starloder all glimmerit in the skybole, and now pay hommy to the !” “Folly folly” said Joseph. “ ? He is the humbold offrspriggit of a carpentale from Nazareth.” “Oh no” said the wisely men. “He is born to be kingly, as scribelode in the divine textbookers, and son of God.” Then arrivit a celestibold host of Angelodes, all warbly in the throakus and twangit on the harp there. “Hosanna and deep deep joy!” they sang. “Deep joy indeel!” exclaimit Joseph and Mary. “It’s all kicking off here!” So there, at the very first Chrimbole, they all sat down to roast turkey with all the trimmage, and watchit the Queenly Speechlode before noddly-off with a dry sherry. Oh yes. Seasolly Greetage to everybole from @professorunwin and his earthly scrile!
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Post by page on Oct 4, 2014 10:49:12 GMT -5
Stop taking drugs you fucking hippy
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Post by ARRRR on Oct 4, 2014 12:26:10 GMT -5
...
HOW THE FUCK DO I DECIPHER THIS?! I have a very urgent need to know what the fuck that was. HELP.
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Post by ARRRR on Oct 4, 2014 12:26:33 GMT -5
I mean, I'm trying.
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Post by ARRRR on Oct 4, 2014 12:48:36 GMT -5
Once upolly-tito, in a land far awale, a young matrimole travellit for the count’n’census all checkly-box present’n’correckers there. Joseph trickly-how along the roam with Mary all two-square on the botty astrile a donkey, seekit accomodakers. Weary weary all eye-rubbit and achey in the legbole, theyr turned the corm and spied a taverl all glittery in the dark there. Jospeh rattatat on the doorclabber, and out stepped the innkeep, who doffly cap and questit “Pintly bitter and a dry-white?” “Oh no” said Joseph. “All knackerit from the travelode, and despery need of a bed for falollop’n’snoozit there” “Folly” said the innkeep. “All the accomodakers fully occupile, but if you trickly-how to the stablode, feel free to prostrale among the animolds in the straw there.” So off they trickly-how round the sigold, nudgit the cows and sheeplodes out the way, and pretty soon theye were out like a light. Now Mary was in the familode way, and dury the nightlopper she brought forth a new-borl infold all squawk’n’screamit like fingerdrobes down a blackboard there. Early the next mordy, arrivit severold shepherds. “Goodly morlode! We bring giftloppers for the ankley-biteloder, but we are simple agricold labourits, so don’t expect Nintendole or X-bokker. Just a bottley gold-top and a wedgeley cheeseopper.” “Deep joy” said Mary. “Joseph. Putly kettle-on for a cuffalo tea-dee. These chaploders deservit a tilty-elbow. Oh yes.” Just then, throo wisely men strollit through the door and bow’n’scrapeit before the infant there. “All hail the Holymost child! We have falollowed a starloder all glimmerit in the skybole, and now pay hommy to the !” “Folly folly” said Joseph. “ ? He is the humbold offrspriggit of a carpentale from Nazareth.” “Oh no” said the wisely men. “He is born to be kingly, as scribelode in the divine textbookers, and son of God.” Then arrivit a celestibold host of Angelodes, all warbly in the throakus and twangit on the harp there. “Hosanna and deep deep joy!” they sang. “Deep joy indeel!” exclaimit Joseph and Mary. “It’s all kicking off here!” So there, at the very first Chrimbole, they all sat down to roast turkey with all the trimmage, and watchit the Queenly Speechlode before noddly-off with a dry sherry. Oh yes. Seasolly Greetage to everybole from @professorunwin and his earthly scrile! Okay, I think i barely know what this is about so that helps, so here goes a rough translation? Once upon a time in a land far away, a young man traveled for an extended period of time or to a certain event somewhere that required gifts....there at the thing. Joseph traveled slowly by horse with Mary, next to him on a donkey. they were seeking accommodations for the evening. Just as their eyes were as weary as could be and painful aches had developed in their legs, a tavern's light shone at them from a distance, maybe around a corner? Joseph knocked on the door, summoning the innkeeper out of his tavern. The innkeeper looked and Joseph and probably asked him if he'd like a pint of some ale, and maybe some cocaine. Joesph declined the innkeepers offer, stating that he and his wife were very tired from travelling and that they were in desperate need of a bed to fallop n'snoozit on. The innkeeper said "SHUCKS! All our rooms have been filled. However, you can trickly out there to that stable and spend your night there if you'd like. It's got hay." So the couple went around the back to the barn/stable thing and slept there among the cattle and sheep. Mary was fucking pregnant somehow (someone call Maury) and during the night she birthed some kind of small bird that couldn't stop squaking and screaming down the chalkboard. Early the next morning, several shepherds arrived at the stable/barn thing. "Good morning! We bring gifts for the ankle biter, but we are lowly servants of some kind so we have not brought you a Nintendo, especially since this is not 1993, nor an XBOX. We apologize for our shitty gifts. What we have brought is a golden dradle and a cheese wedge." Mary felt that was deep. She ordered Joseph to put the kettle on to make tea for the buffaloes. Because they deserve an elbow with a nipple on it. Just then, three wise men strolled through the door and probably knelt while scraping their knees at the sight of this infant. And they declared him a very holy child. Probably the holiest or some junk. They also claimed that they followed a strobelight in the sky globe and now the baby is their /homie. Joseph was all "BULLSHIT THIS AIN'T NO ! WE'RE JUST FROM SOME SMALL JUNKY PLACE THAT YIELDS NO KINGS!" "Nope. Kid's a fucking , deal with it" said the old man. "It was written on a napkin I found along the way, it had been discarded by a rider on a fucking unicorn so this is the real fucking deal" Then a shit ton of angels arrived and they sang like those birds? You know? the ones that warble? They sang the songs of joy. Joseph was pretty chill too, he was filled with 'joy over the whole "my kid is a " shit. [SPOILER! KID AIN'T HIS!] AND THEN EVERYONE GOT DRUNK BECAUSE IT WAS CHRISTMAS AND THE END.
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Post by dee on Oct 4, 2014 17:54:45 GMT -5
Professy, being an aficionadole of musicold in all its manifestashy, has been consider the transforl of recordy in recent years. Oh yes.
The evolushy from Waxyly Cylindrole introduced the human specie to Rotatey Diskers; from seventy eight rotatshies per minute on the ten inch bakerlite there, through twelve inchly vinyl albums at throoty-throo and a thirl spinnage, and the sevel inch singold or 'Forty-Fido'. Deep joy.
An intermediate phase was the Audiole Cassette, all tidy and conveniel pocky-sized, but prone for de-spoolage and mangly, with much sweary and trying to fix it with a biro twizzlit in the sprocky there. Folly folly.
Some throoty years ago, recorded musee migrated from analoppers to digitale, with purelymost sound-form, eliminashy of hiss'n'poppit, and less prone to scratch and skippage. The Compackly Disker was born. Deep joy.
Now, all musee, from Mozarker and Beethovel to Laydle Gaga and the Chemicold Brotheys is availabole for download in mp throo format. This can be downloady from the internet and synchronile with mp throo players of manifold type. From tinymost USB stickles and the microscoppy iPod Shufflit, to mobile phones, Laptoppers and iPaddles. Deep joy.
Through all this evolushy, and despile complicateymost advanceage in technoloppers, what remains constant is the smileage on the facebole of peeploders at the deep joy in the eardrobes of musicold appreciashy. Oh yes.
The soary tones of the cat gut'n'scrapey in the orchestrales of classicold musee, the grindy choppage of an electricold guitarm, or the trickily-how of keys huffalo-dowder the pianole or orgal can all lift the human spirry there. Oh yes.
Professy is now off for a bicyclopper ride with the headpholes stuffit in the eardrobes for joyfold listenit. Ledly Zeppelers today, I think. Deep joy.
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Post by ARRRR on Oct 4, 2014 19:03:23 GMT -5
Professy, being an aficionadole of musicold in all its manifestashy, has been consider the transforl of recordy in recent years. Oh yes. The evolushy from Waxyly Cylindrole introduced the human specie to Rotatey Diskers; from seventy eight rotatshies per minute on the ten inch bakerlite there, through twelve inchly vinyl albums at throoty-throo and a thirl spinnage, and the sevel inch singold or 'Forty-Fido'. Deep joy. An intermediate phase was the Audiole Cassette, all tidy and conveniel pocky-sized, but prone for de-spoolage and mangly, with much sweary and trying to fix it with a biro twizzlit in the sprocky there. Folly folly. Some throoty years ago, recorded musee migrated from analoppers to digitale, with purelymost sound-form, eliminashy of hiss'n'poppit, and less prone to scratch and skippage. The Compackly Disker was born. Deep joy. Now, all musee, from Mozarker and Beethovel to Laydle Gaga and the Chemicold Brotheys is availabole for download in mp throo format. This can be downloady from the internet and synchronile with mp throo players of manifold type. From tinymost USB stickles and the microscoppy iPod Shufflit, to mobile phones, Laptoppers and iPaddles. Deep joy. Through all this evolushy, and despile complicateymost advanceage in technoloppers, what remains constant is the smileage on the facebole of peeploders at the deep joy in the eardrobes of musicold appreciashy. Oh yes. The soary tones of the cat gut'n'scrapey in the orchestrales of classicold musee, the grindy choppage of an electricold guitarm, or the trickily-how of keys huffalo-dowder the pianole or orgal can all lift the human spirry there. Oh yes. Professy is now off for a bicyclopper ride with the headpholes stuffit in the eardrobes for joyfold listenit. Ledly Zeppelers today, I think. Deep joy. Okay... Professy ( ) being a music aficionado in all of its manifestations has been considered the transformation of recording in recent years. Oh yes. the evolution of the wax cylinder introduced the human species to rotating discs; ranging from 78 rotations per minute on the ten inch plastic fucking circle there through twelve inch vinyl albums at either thirty two or thirty three or perhaps even thirty 2 and a half to a third spin or some shit and then something and so forth about the smaller, 7inch vinyl. Maybe referencing a particular album that the hobo pirate writing the original piece reflected on with "great joy" unless that was one of the songs on the album. Intermediately (Don and MrN and possibly Nick and Johnny won't know shit about this) there was an audio cassette. It sucked. You had to hold down a button if you wanted to rewind to anything but the first song. If you wanted to rewind to the first song, you only have to press the button once. Then you flip it over, and it starts at the beginning of side B. But that's not what hobo pirate is trying to say so... The audio cassette was considered convenient, for its size allowed it to be carried in one's pocket. This was the 80-90's, pockets were fucking huge. The hobo pirate who originally wrote the article then becomes quite flustered, obviously noting only one real advantage to that shitty fucking cassette tape. I can agree with him on that. He's quite pissed, it looks like he began to swear. Around thirty years ago, music began to transform from analog to digital, with a much cleaner, pure sound. This eliminated white noise (static) and being less prone to skipping a scratches. God dammit, I'm starting to type like that thing. ANYWAY, thus the compact disc was born. Hobo pirate, again, is giving the impression that he feels "deep joy" I feel for the guy, I lived through a small portion of that crap. Now all music, from Mozart, to Beethoven, then the hobo pirate takes a turn and starts describing absolute shit music, but I think a contrast is good? here? Anyway, now you can get all that shit in mp3 format! He is filled with "deep joy" again, since these things are quite universally and pretty much any technological device that has been developed within the past 5 years or so is going to recognize that format. DEEP JOY! People smile about music. Oh yes. All kinds of music can lift the spirit. Oh yes. Professy is now off with his earbuds on his bike. He's listening to Led Zepplin, today I think. Deep Joy! I got REAALLLY fucking lazy with this one. Where is this fucking translator, Dee?
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Post by dee on Oct 5, 2014 3:06:35 GMT -5
Professy, being an aficionadole of musicold in all its manifestashy, has been consider the transforl of recordy in recent years. Oh yes. The evolushy from Waxyly Cylindrole introduced the human specie to Rotatey Diskers; from seventy eight rotatshies per minute on the ten inch bakerlite there, through twelve inchly vinyl albums at throoty-throo and a thirl spinnage, and the sevel inch singold or 'Forty-Fido'. Deep joy. An intermediate phase was the Audiole Cassette, all tidy and conveniel pocky-sized, but prone for de-spoolage and mangly, with much sweary and trying to fix it with a biro twizzlit in the sprocky there. Folly folly. Some throoty years ago, recorded musee migrated from analoppers to digitale, with purelymost sound-form, eliminashy of hiss'n'poppit, and less prone to scratch and skippage. The Compackly Disker was born. Deep joy. Now, all musee, from Mozarker and Beethovel to Laydle Gaga and the Chemicold Brotheys is availabole for download in mp throo format. This can be downloady from the internet and synchronile with mp throo players of manifold type. From tinymost USB stickles and the microscoppy iPod Shufflit, to mobile phones, Laptoppers and iPaddles. Deep joy. Through all this evolushy, and despile complicateymost advanceage in technoloppers, what remains constant is the smileage on the facebole of peeploders at the deep joy in the eardrobes of musicold appreciashy. Oh yes. The soary tones of the cat gut'n'scrapey in the orchestrales of classicold musee, the grindy choppage of an electricold guitarm, or the trickily-how of keys huffalo-dowder the pianole or orgal can all lift the human spirry there. Oh yes. Professy is now off for a bicyclopper ride with the headpholes stuffit in the eardrobes for joyfold listenit. Ledly Zeppelers today, I think. Deep joy. Okay... Professy ( ) being a music aficionado in all of its manifestations has been considered the transformation of recording in recent years. Oh yes. the evolution of the wax cylinder introduced the human species to rotating discs; ranging from 78 rotations per minute on the ten inch plastic fucking circle there through twelve inch vinyl albums at either thirty two or thirty three or perhaps even thirty 2 and a half to a third spin or some shit and then something and so forth about the smaller, 7inch vinyl. Maybe referencing a particular album that the hobo pirate writing the original piece reflected on with "great joy" unless that was one of the songs on the album. Intermediately (Don and MrN and possibly Nick and Johnny won't know shit about this) there was an audio cassette. It sucked. You had to hold down a button if you wanted to rewind to anything but the first song. If you wanted to rewind to the first song, you only have to press the button once. Then you flip it over, and it starts at the beginning of side B. But that's not what hobo pirate is trying to say so... The audio cassette was considered convenient, for its size allowed it to be carried in one's pocket. This was the 80-90's, pockets were fucking huge. The hobo pirate who originally wrote the article then becomes quite flustered, obviously noting only one real advantage to that shitty fucking cassette tape. I can agree with him on that. He's quite pissed, it looks like he began to swear. Around thirty years ago, music began to transform from analog to digital, with a much cleaner, pure sound. This eliminated white noise (static) and being less prone to skipping a scratches. God dammit, I'm starting to type like that thing. ANYWAY, thus the compact disc was born. Hobo pirate, again, is giving the impression that he feels "deep joy" I feel for the guy, I lived through a small portion of that crap. Now all music, from Mozart, to Beethoven, then the hobo pirate takes a turn and starts describing absolute shit music, but I think a contrast is good? here? Anyway, now you can get all that shit in mp3 format! He is filled with "deep joy" again, since these things are quite universally and pretty much any technological device that has been developed within the past 5 years or so is going to recognize that format. DEEP JOY! People smile about music. Oh yes. All kinds of music can lift the spirit. Oh yes. Professy is now off with his earbuds on his bike. He's listening to Led Zepplin, today I think. Deep Joy! I got REAALLLY fucking lazy with this one. Where is this fucking translator, Dee?
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Post by Mr Go Fuck Yourself on Oct 5, 2014 4:38:11 GMT -5
I'm gonna guess that the Australian language evolved even more than it already had and no one noticed because they're in the middle of nowhere.
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Post by ARRRR on Oct 5, 2014 9:58:56 GMT -5
Okay... Professy ( ) being a music aficionado in all of its manifestations has been considered the transformation of recording in recent years. Oh yes. the evolution of the wax cylinder introduced the human species to rotating discs; ranging from 78 rotations per minute on the ten inch plastic fucking circle there through twelve inch vinyl albums at either thirty two or thirty three or perhaps even thirty 2 and a half to a third spin or some shit and then something and so forth about the smaller, 7inch vinyl. Maybe referencing a particular album that the hobo pirate writing the original piece reflected on with "great joy" unless that was one of the songs on the album. Intermediately (Don and MrN and possibly Nick and Johnny won't know shit about this) there was an audio cassette. It sucked. You had to hold down a button if you wanted to rewind to anything but the first song. If you wanted to rewind to the first song, you only have to press the button once. Then you flip it over, and it starts at the beginning of side B. But that's not what hobo pirate is trying to say so... The audio cassette was considered convenient, for its size allowed it to be carried in one's pocket. This was the 80-90's, pockets were fucking huge. The hobo pirate who originally wrote the article then becomes quite flustered, obviously noting only one real advantage to that shitty fucking cassette tape. I can agree with him on that. He's quite pissed, it looks like he began to swear. Around thirty years ago, music began to transform from analog to digital, with a much cleaner, pure sound. This eliminated white noise (static) and being less prone to skipping a scratches. God dammit, I'm starting to type like that thing. ANYWAY, thus the compact disc was born. Hobo pirate, again, is giving the impression that he feels "deep joy" I feel for the guy, I lived through a small portion of that crap. Now all music, from Mozart, to Beethoven, then the hobo pirate takes a turn and starts describing absolute shit music, but I think a contrast is good? here? Anyway, now you can get all that shit in mp3 format! He is filled with "deep joy" again, since these things are quite universally and pretty much any technological device that has been developed within the past 5 years or so is going to recognize that format. DEEP JOY! People smile about music. Oh yes. All kinds of music can lift the spirit. Oh yes. Professy is now off with his earbuds on his bike. He's listening to Led Zepplin, today I think. Deep Joy! I got REAALLLY fucking lazy with this one. Where is this fucking translator, Dee? UNWINESE! And he was the Professor. That video made me forget I didn't take LSD. And I love this kind of thing in a way I'm certain no one would quite understand. I would love to be fluent in it. Alas, all the things. That made my day. THANKS DEE!
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Post by ARRRR on Oct 5, 2014 17:54:03 GMT -5
God dammit deebetween being paranoid about ED68 and listening to/reading Stanley Unwin/ Unwinese, I've done pretty much nothing. This is neat though.
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Post by Jonesy on Oct 21, 2014 17:13:51 GMT -5
I'm gonna guess that the Australian language evolved even more than it already had and no one noticed because they're in the middle of nowhere. LMAO!!!!
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Post by Jonesy on Oct 21, 2014 17:14:26 GMT -5
ARRRR your translations are wondermous. <3
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