View Full Version : The Death Of Robert Plant

07-29-2004, 10:47 AM
The time I spent as a freelance onion peeler was less than tragic but lightly brave in hysterics. I had fun, but I also lost my will to succeed, so I peed on my lawn. Business was business, although none did I have, bar a few quick peels for Lady Mamoo, who failed to pay me claiming that I could have been a little more considerate about my onion squirt precautions. After 7 months of sitting around sharpening my paring knife and perfecting my Dom DeLouise impression I decided to file for bankruptcy.

Six months later I set up my shoe appraising business, thinking that most people would like to know the value of their shoes, for bragging rights. People laughed and I laughed back. I closed shop after 9 days of business. Mark Plunsky stopped by that Wednesday to cheer me up. I did not know Mark Plunsky, and his constant prattle about “government intervention in shoe play? only confused me. Mark offered me a job as his left shoe. Bills were piling up so I decided to take the job. The next morning I walked backwards to Marks house to start my new job. Mark gave me a doughnut then stepped into face with his left foot. We went for a walk into town, me doing my best to be a left shoe, and Mark doing his best to adjust to me dragging under his left foot. This went on for about 11 weeks, and while Mark was more than pleased with me being his left shoe, I was beginning to think that this was a dead end job. I left Mark on a Tuesday morning and never heard from him again.

Days turned to months and months tuned to years, and I, Menk Wilson, former shoe to Mark Plunsky once owner of the Moist Shoe Appraisal Corporation was facing a crossroad, one that would determine where I ended up in this brown world. I opted for a career in nomadic bean travels, while not a job, it would provide me with the challenges and excitement that my previous jobs hadn’t. I strategically mapped out the itinerary for my first tour. The trip would take me from New Jersey (white beans) to Spain (red beans) to Turkey (gasha beans) to Russia (long bean) and back to New Jersey where I would categorize and file my beans for future studies, which is where the money would come in.

I advertised in Fortune 500 and the Better Science Tribune, showcasing my findings and offering a low introductory offer that would allow researchers access to my catalog of beans to perform studies for smarter business decisions. The phone did not ring for a week. I began to think that I’d made another poor career decision. The very next day, while considering lowering my prices, I got a call from Led Zeppelin, who were interested in a reunion tour and were looking for a ‘fine set of beans’ as there opening act. Robert Plant was pathological about his public image and was very unsure of his status in today’s rock and roll business. He did not want to be upstaged by the support slot on his tour, so he thought a bean display, while exciting and different, would guarantee him the spotlight of the event. We worked out a deal that was beneficial to both Led Zeppelin and myself. The tour was announced the following Friday and tickets were selling out all across the country.

The months that leading up to the beginning of the tour was unusual to say the least. I spent quite a bit of time Robert as he prepared for his return to rock and roll. He practiced his scissor kicks and I curled his hair with a gentle brush. I told him stories of my bean travels and he sang Stairway to Heaven in Yiddish to pass the time. We were having a great time. As the opening night began creeping up I began dedicating my time to cleaning up the beans and working on different display techniques. This is when I began to notice a shift in attitude with Robert. I caught him sprinkling dust over the beans just after they were polished. I didn’t say anything at first, as I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt that he wasn’t sabotaging my showcase. The next morning he passed me in the hall and mumbled something about ‘beans will never be bigger than Zeppelin’ or something to that extent. That evening he asked me to think about changing the velvet skirts that were draped over the bean showcase, claiming that he didn’t want any velvet in my display, as he was planning to wear a velvet corduroys. Was Plant in competition with me I thought to myself? Our friendship dissolved in the days that led p to the opening night at Madison Square Garden. An underground buzz was making its way across New York, and bean enthusiasts were scalping tickets for as much as 200 dollars a piece. Plant summed up the buzz as ‘media hype from the Jewish media companies who are still upset about Stairway To Heaven being a song for the Christians?. I knew in my heart that this wasn’t true, as touchy as the Jews can get sometimes when they feel jipped.

Fans made their way through the Garden’s entrance, cheering ‘Zep-e-lin Zep-e-lin ‘, but as the arena began to fill the chants for Zeppelin began to fade as thousands began circling the bean exhibition. A fight broke out at the red bean expo where a Texan began strangling young Mexican boy who was claiming that chili had its origins in Northern Mexico, and that it wasn’t a true Texan meal. The excitement quickly spread as people began to align themselves with the bean of there choice. The well-lit arena drew black as a spokesman from WBAB 102.7 asked the crowd if they were ready for the greatest rock and roll band in the world, which was met with alarming silence. Plant was pacing on the outskirts of the stage, swearing and pulling at his hair. Meanwhile things were heating out down by the Gasha bean exhibit where Middle Easterners where having words with the religious right. A small boy from the back of the crowd called out “Free beans at Penn Station?. A Stampede of 48,000 supposed Zeppelin fans rushed for the exits, and in a matter of minutes the arena was all but empty, bar a few concession stand workers who wouldn’t move if their hair was on fire.

The following morning Robert Plant and Led Zeppelin gave a press speech sighting “technical difficulties with Robert’s hair curling iron not operating safely? as a quiet Plant held back tears behind dark sunglasses. All ticket holders were given the opportunity to get a full refund or to use their ticket to see the Menk Wilson Bean Extravaganza. Of the 489,000 tickets sold only 17 tickets holders opted for a refund. Menk Wilson and his bean show were the hit of the Summer, outselling Celine Dion’s “Canadian Torture Tour? by 157,000 tickets, making it the biggest money earning event of the century. Robert Plant was not available for comment and is said to be procuring a small underground bean farm in Hull.

[Edited on 7-29-2004 by Harnk]

07-29-2004, 12:51 PM
kevin eat your heart out

07-29-2004, 02:34 PM
I like how there are beans, rather than meat, in this one.

07-30-2004, 07:20 AM
I'm fabulous for more than you like me to be, even less is how you consider my condition when you ignore my brave rendition of Skakespeare on the toilet. Will you not let me be, or should I sit and wait for your next delusion to sweep you from your mind. I'll join you if it should be, but my pleasant nature will hinder my performance, so sit still and wait for my Nuenos to react to your transmissions. Lets just hope for the best, and the rest, as they say, is frillo inconsequenzo.

In the sky a bird sleeps, on your neck a boy weeps, just as you like it, only in reverse. Kind rays of okay set comforts in your legs, marshmallow walking so nice for today. Lipstick smiles float soundly over Tuesday, so sad when Wednesday comes with his lonely fuelled plums, so tasty at first as you fall into a spell, balance drops like a boyscout good habit, and you echo in world.

Salt skinned love always lasts you said once, twice I said sure, but you know I can't believe you. I believe in me and me alone, stoned fat you slouch on the day, so I pray for silence and make myself little snacks. We could go on if I wasn't so wise, but my wiseness walks wide, tickling the tides of your delusions. Step back from my tracks and lose yourself, and let me walk alone as you knew I intended. A goodbye is forever when the goodbye is from me. I sit high in a tree caressing my brain for such wise decisions. Goodbye my Delila Francis.

Pills for your ills and some wine for your mind, so kind we sat in smiles with spritely young elves. Each one just a little bit better than what I wished to be, like torments from Lucifer they made me feel free. Free of all meaning I distanced myself into darkness. Storms of Hell rained on me as I burn, brown bakings of me for the evil elves to chew on. Being consumed by little people is the bottom of all rockbottoms, so I resigned my self to the couch. I miss my you Delila, come back to our tree

07-30-2004, 07:30 AM
sheer and utter brilliance, harnk.

07-30-2004, 07:30 AM
thanks Babe:D

08-10-2004, 11:04 AM
He was a boy we called Tickles, and he was a boy we admired. Tickles declared that “breaking into mind, even kindly stepping in, will free you from sin and socially infected behavior, eliminating the waste of good mental strength by complying with random social norms created by structured egomaniacs looking to ‘score’ the dream, when in truth they are putting parameters on how you express yourself and how you carry out your being, completely controlled and otherwise compromised". Bitter social activists denounced this statement as a Socialistic enterprise to eradicate traditional living. The deadbeat underachievers embraced this vision for the sake of their non-convinced stance on work and play balance. Satirical windup merchants saw an opening for a massive global pisstake, leveling the elitist playing field in one fell embarrassing swoop of white collar satirical analysis. Many rode the Tickle wave, very few understood it, which is why it played out like a bad idea gone global, overlooking the simple ideal that made it the most advanced social reform that would never take flight.
A master of disguise and undercover living. Tickles slid off the grid to work out the kinks in his social restructuring plan, hoping for a return within 9 months with an improved and full detailed set of commandments to reimplement his practice, this time policing the transition so that the casual dabbler does not rewrite the ideals for his own selfish convenience, much like the groups mentioned earlier. After a 7 month brainstorm Tickles put forth his preliminary guidelines to Advanced Living Through Social Revolt and came up with these commandments.

Commandment I
Consider the reverse to see if it opposes your inner values, if so react as you see fit
Commandment II
Own your vision and embrace the fleeting thought. Peripheral ideas are what genius is made of
Commandment III
Love your mind and kindness will follow. Wallowing in social failure weighs heavy. You rise instead with curious adversity
Commandment IV
The sense of smell is a gift. Use it. Smell your neighbor if that is what you desire.
Commandment V
Reevaluate your precondition to long for Friday. It is OK to enjoy a Tuesday.
Commandment VI
Never discourage your neighbor. Let freedom ring in our expressions, regardless of how it may appear to conventionalists
Commandment VII
Skin is not sin. Expose yourself...many will observe and enjoy. Clothing is optional.
Commandment VIII
A minute of truth is worth a lifetime of political correctness. Others will listen if your heart rings words of truth and passion.
Commandment IV
If it feels good it is good. A victimless crime is not a crime. Be kind to yourself.
Commandment XX
Days are new. Avoid overlaps in mood by focusing on the Today is The First Day Of Your Life slogan (TM Alcoholic Anonymous)

True disciples of the 1st Order agreed for a test run in a small far away commune off the grid in Montana. Non-traditional professionals and specialists, from many schools of thought, ranging from the Happy Socialist to the Cynic Society, were brought in for analysis and suggestions for improvement. Unconeventionalists from as far as Japan were hustled in through the Curly Logic Railroad, which was a secret underground express train that ran from Siberia to Montana running West, transporting accomplished thinkers in unconventional thought and living. Harnk g Planetlegs and Finsk Rebel were two to name a few, both riding on a similar ideal as Tickles, only less forgiving to the conventionalists, making them radicals in a field of radicals. These were dangerous if given the platform. Tickles chose them based on his respect for their extreme opposition to money. Harnk G Planetlegs has minor recognition in eastern Europe with his Money is Funny Speech that read " Money is funny if you consider our needs we seek out pleasure to fill our endless crave for being tickled. Consider your gift as means of trade. Pay for a candybar with a Rerun dance at double pace. Give your landlord a facial massage with legs and he'll drop your rent. Making someone smile will buy you a mile, give that one head and you'll keep clear of the red". Tickles was good at taking elements of underachieving visions and pulling out the elements that rang true.

All revolutions were built on previous attempts, some made good of learning from history, others repeated the mistakes. Tickles admired Harnk's bartering system but felt it needed a loose structure to keep the unruly from pulling down their pants and shitting on the bakery counter in return for a loaf of bread. An agreement from both parties was needed for any transaction to be processed. This led to the 'mental dress' movement which encouraged people to dress as their mind, essentially wearing their hearts on their sleeve, and on their pants too, showcasing your goods and your needs, expediting the bartering process by avoiding solicitations to those who can't provide. This worked well for a good while, but its roots were steeped in traditional living, which is why this individualistic movement later rejected this dress fad. Tickles never fell to failure and accepted his ill visions as mistakes, never getting lost in yesterday and always rejecting tomorrows follow through.

Bright rays of sun sprinkled Spring love over the Montana commune as the test model for Advanced Living stepped out into their first day in a new world. Phil Freckles traveled with an unusual high knee left equestrian trot. Mary Mary sang her lunch order to the deli clerk who was robed in velvet and smiling like a churchboy with candy. Bean Sanders struck a marvelous pose at any being who passed his way. Jeremy Plone hung plums form his ears and soaked his knees in milk. Everyone was happy doing what they had suppressed all these long years. This release was such a profound effect on the commune that towns just outside began to feel the ripple of love spread through their lives. The overall success of day one sent a buzz through the underground press who were strategically embedded in the operation, posing as uncoventionalists.

The rightwing favoring Fox News 5 ran a brief story on the commune, keen to be the first to report on the scene, and keen to criticize what they saw as a Socialist movement. To their dismay the story sprung curiosity from all corners of the nation. Madonna wanted in. Tickle gave an affirmative 'NO' to the fad-hopping fading star, sighting her as his nemesis in the arts. Robin Williams was welcomed with open arms and quickly became chummy with Tickles. The involvement of Williams took some pressure off Tickles, who was calling for a reform meeting to address the overexposure in this trial period. Tickles feared the spread of what he was now calling 'Clempt', before it had the chance to mature and have the wrinkles ironed out.

Back at the Brotzil Conference Center Tickles, Harnk, and Finsk sat down o discuss the reviews passed forward by the Wonky Task Force Review Board. The overall response was positive, sighting restrainment as the only obvious obstacle. The Review Board felt that while all seemed to be moving along sprightly, they were however disappointed with what they saw as people holding back. After all this was a radical movement and called for radical departures. After the session wrapped up Harnk returned to the town centre to rally up the people for a quick meeting to give some feedback. As he mentioned the observed 'restraintment' whispers of chatter began humming amongst the assembly. Harvey Von Lunch raised his hand high "Yes, what is it Harvey" Harvey cleared his throat "Are you like saying that I could uhh like I could wear a cake on my face if I feel like doing just that" Harnk, obviously delighted that his message had gotten through replied "Yes, Yes that is exactly what I am saying, Harvey. Let your heart be your guide". The crowd dispersed minutes later just as night fell.

The roosters called out to morning as the sun rose to meet a blue sky. Bill Belltoes screamed at his lawn as he sat in a tree having his coffee. Mr. Hooperlot smothered his chest with raspberries and watched All In The Family reruns all morning. Jimmy Plynth sat outside Robin Williams bedroom window playing his trumpet, as Williams took a shower with a host of lobsters. The morning birds sung Korean symphonies as they flew backwards with their genitals exposed. Things were beginning to take shape, as day two was met with great success. Business and commerce reported above average draws, even with the bartering system flourishing. Dale Brockle smiled as he acquired a new blue pillow in exchange for his left toe, which he didn't use since he stapled himself to his bed 7 years ago.


08-13-2004, 09:08 AM
Milk clouds fenced in the green air, holding the geese that flew backwards in a holding pattern, forcing them forward without a greeting, leaving the geese perplexed in their small world of Larry synergenics. A cow crawled left when the Sun dropped from the confines of the westward milk cloud, and in response to this the farmers laid glue over the fields, closing up season two weeks before the corn explosion, ultimately putting great strain on Barney Kemple, the gentleman who ran the annual Corn-hop Thunder Parade, which the Encronads loved so dearly. False hope came in the form of a tall pigeon who crossed his legs when his read the news, which we saw as a signal from Snod, our Holy Supervisor. The clouds dropped, just low enough for us to mow our lawns undisturbed, but too low to make any sense of the barrage of slowbirds who clumsily flew into the our necks, which eventually prevented us from mowing our lawns, which led to long grass that would eventually tickle our feet when we danced barefoot at the Corn-hop thunder Parade, which was not going to run this year due to the gluing of the crop fields, which was necessary since the milk clouds had fenced in the green air, holding the geese that flew backwards in a holding pattern, forcing them forward without a greeting. We never accomplished anything in Shemp Town.

05-30-2005, 10:54 AM

[Edited on 3-22-0606 by hypecity]

06-10-2005, 01:41 PM
I feel that I have to say that these aren't very original. I think you know what I'm getting at...

06-10-2005, 07:45 PM
Originally posted by bbegotka
I feel that I have to say that these aren't very original. I think you know what I'm getting at...

I'd like to hear this. Tell me how my tale of Plant is a tippy thiefy.

call me hi
06-11-2005, 12:12 AM
funny, i was thinking about calling out harnk as being too dependent on animals and food as subject matter. i never considered him to be a fraud. still don't. in fact after reading this story, especially the commandments, i'm willing to forgive the overabundance of creatures and grub and accept it for what it is. which is pretty good.

06-11-2005, 06:35 AM
It isn't anything specific within the stories, it's the style in which the stories are written. I meant no offense. If others enjoy it, then I ought to just clam up about it.

06-11-2005, 12:00 PM
My gosh. So thousands of people write in one pathetically dull and uncreative style, and a tiny tiny handful are able to reach the imaginative realms which Harnk so naturally reaches, and he's the unoriginal one?


Harnk, would you like to make a children's book with me?

06-12-2005, 07:23 AM
Originally posted by bbegotka
It isn't anything specific within the stories, it's the style in which the stories are written. I meant no offense. If others enjoy it, then I ought to just clam up about it.

Nooooo. You need to validate your statement, Nipple.

06-13-2005, 10:20 AM
kevin eat your heart out