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55

name - amber

email -

8/12/2003 2:32:09 PM

comment -

FUCK IT. CHRIS....Put up a big yellow and black crime scene tape around the guestbook that says "Currently Undergoing Development, Please Beware of Falling Debris"
Man o' the mtn: May i suggest reading back a few pages when I explained the current situation our good friends are in.

ROME WAS NOT BUILT IN A DAY ASSFUCK. (now thats what I call quality programming)

grow a pair and name yourself.



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54

name - spillane

email -

8/12/2003 12:52:06 PM

comment -

chris is learning code for the new site, i am writing and still slapping asses, that is, when i am not drinking.



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53

name - Man O' the Mtn

email -

8/12/2003 10:33:52 AM

comment -

Progression means that you progress i.e., get better. A message board isn't progression, its old stuff. Everybody has one who wants one. I used to love the tunes at this site. Wild stuff. The poetry was decent. Those silly-assed photos were silly-assed yet great. I loved the movie of Spillane smacking somebody's butt. Art or what?!?! Bring back the old players. Let it be like Simon & Garfunkel in Central Park or some rock band's farewell tour. WRLDMRINE, not WRLDHASBEAN...



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52

name - ak

email -

8/12/2003 3:45:26 AM

comment -

obviously the anticipation is growing. That is a very nice thing to know. Size doesn't matter here.



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51

name - amber

email -

8/12/2003 3:39:49 AM

comment -

god I'm so lost. I consider myself a newbeee. yet then the sincere oldies come around and talk about the good old days. Back when w-r-l-d mrine was a happening place to be...ie: an intecual idealism (not the first of its kind mind you, I dont presume to be so presumtious)
Well, I say with an open soul (accompanied by grandos balls ACTIVE in the literary community)... Whatever happened to progression? I'll tell you what. You might say... Progression led to paper or plastic, credit or debit. Did you want that sauteed or grillled for your dining pleasure? Not neccesarrily a simplifying method. And yet I feel (wrldmrine-wise...assuming you realise the top secret meaning...just enter your pincode if so) eh hem...I feel like what is happening, what is developing under the means that WE as a whole (albiet small) can conjure up for your vewing pleasure is.....da da da da.... good!
Not bad. I feel like this might be a maturing stage. A maturing of something that was not quite there, like when you were four and then you turnedtwenty four....if need be, I will further explain on a more laymens term "Maturation". Growth is always ready to happen, it is ever prepared. It was waiting for me the day I was born. If your ready to except the current state . WELCOME. If you are us, you might not see it as a degredation, but as something more as a growth that you , old schooler OR NOT are a part of.

otherwise, man up or piss off. (no offense)

knock the hate, busta'



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50

name - Man o' the Mtn

email -

8/12/2003 12:38:58 AM

comment -

Change wrldmrine back to what it was in the good ol' days of wrldmrine! We don't need another message board!



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49

name - ak

email -

8/11/2003 3:34:44 PM

comment -

nickname for james spillane: confused homosexual who downloads fleetwood mac songs all day



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48

name - amber

email -

8/11/2003 1:43:52 PM

comment -

I tried going down a big aquaduct on a skateboard in LA once when I was thirteen. One of those big old school surfer boards with red wheels and a back fin.
Well, I ate shit and broke my ankle to bitsies. They ended up screwing it back together. Now when I go threw the airport security doors, I beep.




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47

name - spillane

email -

8/11/2003 1:27:56 PM

comment -

possible nicknames for amber:

1. lovertits
2. baby bitch
3. muff pie



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46

name - jch

email -

8/11/2003 12:12:50 PM

comment -

cool, amber! what'd you get 'em on? priceline??? if so, how much?



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45

name - spillane

email -

8/11/2003 10:55:21 AM

comment -

First and foremost, all though there is nothing after that I can think of, (would that be called, 'aftermost' because I don't think, 'thereafter' and 'furthermore' really do it for me) but foremost... (For most people foremost works) I would like to point out the fact that I have extremely large testicular sac, which might impede, (although we are on a bike and the word impede makes reference {Latin} to feet/foot movement) any travel by foot, bike or long rides in airplanes. Basically my balls are huge and bicycle rides are painful. And when I say huge, I mean huge like a bull’s balls. This is true, I (my mother) actually has a bull’s balls purse, it is like a little handbag, except there is nothing little about it, and I found myself the other day, bull testicular handbag in hand, comparing my sac to my mothers sac, and found that I have balls the size of a bull… I would like to also point out that my mother purchased the bull ball bag in Rosarita Mexico, where we will be pedaling to, which now, that I think of it, is worth of Latin word use, ‘pede.’



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44

name - ambler

email -

8/11/2003 12:23:14 AM

comment -

found tickets thank you colby. WA this weekend, San D next then off to me-hi-co for come banana daqueries with james and his pants.
Hes in for an interesting meeting with my crazy pa pa. the infamous Danny Lee (founder of the Galaxstar Method).
If Jamies down for the ride, I was hoping maybe he could keep up with my daddy en' me for a little cycle to rosarita, ensanada maybe?
whatdya say james. Up for a little race?
We can even wear speedos.



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43

name - jch

email -

8/10/2003 8:15:15 AM

comment -

second flight over with, one to go! then i'm hittin' seattle baby. it may be september before i get there, but i'll get there. when are you going, amers?



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42

name - he should write more

email -

8/9/2003 4:53:20 PM

comment -

It's like watching a pick-up game and seeing the 30-year old guy who should have gone pro, should've been the next MJ (or better) but was too worried about his street cred or was too lazy or too afraid of his talent to take advantage of it. You watch the fluidity of this guy's motion. The unbroken continuity of time and space when he has the ball. The rock is an extension of his being. The rest of us are blades of grass his giant green and blue world. And yet, here is. Still on the playground. Wowing the hanger-ons and already believers. It's a shame, really, he should have been more devoted to writing.



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41

name - s

email -

8/9/2003 4:40:46 PM

comment -

wrldmrine: intellectualism juxtaposed by the banality of the less salubrious; a bastion of high-concepts in surroundings saturated with mediocrity and simple-mindedness



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40

name - my visa card

email -

8/9/2003 10:44:55 AM

comment -

I am queuing at my nearest out-of-town supermarket when an unpleasant scene
begins to develop. Three shop assistants haul a muscular but dead young
bullock out from behind the translucent flaps that guard the inner sanctum of
the store, and lay it on the tiles in the tights, socks, and toothcare aisle.
Another assistant emerges with several large knives, and the four of them stand
around the carcass as if awaiting silent instructions. As one, they flash
their knives and one of them makes a large cut in the hide of the bullock.
Another slices deftly at the neck area, while the third and fourth make
incisions around the jaw. The two assistants nearest the head lay their now
bloody knives on the clean tiles, and, with visible effort, insert their
fingers into the gashes they have just made. They begin to pull at the thick,
hairy skin of the bullock, tugging hard until the flesh begins to pinkly
emerge. They pull and pull, and the hide slides back over the jaw. As the
skin comes back, to my horror, the bullock's eyes begin to flicker. At the
moment the hide rips back over the eyes, they widen, and the bullock staggers
to its feet. The assistant pull harder and harder, but the bullock charges
away towards the delicatessen counter, its face flapping wildly around its
flayed skull. I am close to fainting, although I cannot, as I have been
queuing at the checkout for what seems like an age. At last, my items are
scanned and I pay for them, my Visa card shaking in my hand.




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39

name - ak

email -

8/9/2003 10:13:52 AM

comment -

really? I always thought my breasts were a little lop-sided.



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38

name - spillane

email -

8/8/2003 11:42:11 PM

comment -

i like to say the word, "perfect"



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37

name - Ak First Impressions

email -

8/8/2003 11:28:44 PM

comment -

I went shopping today. I was looking for something to impress chris and his wife when I meet them on my upcoming visit. I am nervous and think they won't like me. So i decided to go for something nice but not too nice. Something that says "harmless girl from the country" but not too naive. I thought a pink babydoll T and jeans would work but then... pink can be a provacative color. A color that says "my parents never payed attention to me and so now I am an insecure slut who wants you to look at my pink T-shirt where my brests just happen to be located, inflating my sense of worth" No, no. Scratch the Pink T. I'd hate for them to think I was a mindless loosey-goosey. A dress is out of the question. Could be to stuffy and they might think I was trying to show them up. Which is not what I am going for...I am thinking Julie Andrews. Sound of Music, nuns who love children....humility....yes! Must be humble but not meek. Simple yet interesting. Oh god what am I even going to say?? I am probably just going to sit there all silent and stupid and make everyone uncomfortable like I did with James's mom. Fuck I'm a deadweight. A third wheel. I will sit there in some stupid crochette sweater (with a V-neck for "flare") with my hands all folded in my lap concentrating so hard on nodding my head in perfect time like a metronome and laughing at all the right jokes that I will get dizzy and and start to sweat. Next thing you know I will be trying to melt myself into some floral wall paper somewhere, embarrasing james and wishing I were home. Fuck! Maybe a skirt. A knee length skirt with a tapered collar blouse. White. Yes, thats it. White. Simple, no fuss, easy going, mellow yellow. No not yellow! just laid back. yes a straight shooter. Like me.



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36

name - Amber

email -

8/8/2003 11:03:33 PM

comment -

I cant believe you told your mother about my cheeky pinata.
Your fired.



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35

name - spillane

email -

8/8/2003 6:51:25 PM

comment -

amber, my mom says she is cool with your pinata idea, and that you are a good writer.



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34

name - amber

email -

8/8/2003 1:54:54 PM

comment -

ney posseebel



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33

name - spillane

email -

8/8/2003 10:38:33 AM

comment -

No is for wimps. No is for pussies. No is to live small and embittered, cherishing the opportunities you missed because they might have sent the wrong message... but we will not. There is a box, and I am going to fill it with things, things that make me laugh and make me happy, things that make me think. And I am going to write with the little dancing mission-statement in the back of my head, like a puppet that can talk, or slowly move down and whisper into my ear, and massage my back at the same time. There is music, always music playing. It is life-theme music, it is hail to the thief, and it is old time relijun. And I am happy, and I am dancing, while getting a massage by a mission-stating puppet that whispers in my ear. And I say, I steal, I run around with a knife in my hand, I say “No is for pussies,” I know this because I have lived in France, I know the French, and for gods shake trust me, No is for pussies. We are yes people, we wake up in the morning, and it is hot in the morning, I am upstairs in Chris’ computer room and it is Africa hot, and I look out the window I and say yes, and I don’t even know what I am saying yes to or for. Maybe I will swim, or lift weights or play basketball, or order chicken wings at hooters while watching the mariners, beat the shit out of the Texas Rangers while all of Safeco boo’s the hell out of Alex Rodriguez. Maybe I will watch Tivo, I will watch out of order with Eric Stoltz while drinking a rum and coke. And think a lot about Amber and Alaska and Alaskan Amber Ale. And I think of sailing the seas of cheese with Frank Jensen, and think that the name Djibouti is hilarious and that Frank Jensen is sailing there, and what about the hyenas… and to this I say. Wrldmrine is yes. James Spillane is yes… we are yes. you motherfuckers, we are yes.



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32

name - spillane

email -

8/8/2003 10:09:48 AM

comment -

Think of the fuckheads who turned their back on Dylan when he started using electric guitars, for Christ's sake. What kind of niggardly imbecile would call Dylan Judas when he plugged into an amp? What kind of small-hearted person wants an artist to adhere to a set of rules, to stay forever within a narrow envelope which we've created for them?




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31

name - Manic Mondays

email -

8/8/2003 1:48:54 AM

comment -

in other words, the crash is coming and I think it is time to take my "love peace and hair grease" pills again. All people within a ten mile radius beware.
My little brother has the best hops in the whole family. While me and my mother have to toil away in a "half-high, barely enough to keep our doors only slightly ajar" state, My brothers off in lala land with mothergoose jumping from pink fluffy cloud to the next with the velocity of a space walk.
It first started at work tonight.

a moment of silence for amber sanity please.



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