September 16, 2000
Everything Editor Logs
history | prophecy
See o dem bones, the strange gyrings and wing-rubbings of thy servants as they report on the state of the hive. These motions and noises are language of a sort. We know not what we say. We know not what we do. But to you, the meanings are clear. What follows is a transcript into one of the tongues of the humans. To us, it is merely more nodegel. We seek out the bad nodegel and eject it into the Crypt, we fasten the good nodegel to the comb so that its sweetness on Page of Cool encourages the noders to exude more of this flavour. We poke and prod, soothe and stroke the noders so that the nodegel flows. We know not what we do or why. This is our life.
The Crypt has returned the following to a liquid state:
If This is Tuesday This Must Be Belgium by Demeter. By request.
Ms. Krabaple by tregoweth. By request.
usefull by Middlename and General Wesc. By request of wharfinger.
I nuked user Middlename. A troll, spleening in Chatter. Not a confused new user. I msged thrice. "FUCK YOU" is not an acceptable response. Threatened to get worse in Chatter. Back to the gel. GLOOP. I don't like doing this. I don't even much care for deleting nodes by living users.
Who is the third who walks always beside you? (2) by Dorian. By request.
- small breasts by melodrame. By request.
- The Cow Of Doom returns these nodes to the gel:
- Rage Against The Toaster
A number of title changes for tribbel
Low quality, censored, bird sound MP3s by tftv256. By request.