Thread: Favorite KenWritez posts Board: Glory / Ship of Fools.

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Posted by Scot (# 2095) on :
The Sturdy Wench, Ken's wife, has asked for help in compiling the best of Ken's many, many writings. You can help by re-posting favorite KenWritez posts here in this thread. Please copy-and-paste the posts as quotes, rather than just giving links.

When looking for a post, it may help to know that KenWritez's member number was 3238. Phil the Wise Guy, Ken's character in the Nativity Play, was number 3678.

Thank you all in advance on behalf of myself and the Sturdy Wench.

[ 11. May 2011, 16:09: Message edited by: Spike ]
Posted by jedijudy (# 333) on :
OK, y'all know this has to be on this thread! [Smile]

You called God "strange."

That is I am speechless. Thus I voice my outrage in interpretive dance:

............. x pause
.... x ......... ... .. . spin spin spin ...
................. leap .........................
... pause ..... x x x ....x x.... spin ....
.......... leap .......... ..... ..... ..... ..
.... ... pause ... ... .. . xx
............. spin spin spin .. x
..... spin spin .. x
... spin . x

So there.

From last year's let's Offend thread.

In fact, a person could get a great laugh reading through the whole thread, even if you just skip through and read only Ken's posts. I did that very thing on Sunday, after crying all day. Ken still makes me laugh! ((((KenWritez))))
Posted by Mamacita (# 3659) on :
With Thanksgiving coming up, we simply must bring out KenWritez' "The Dreaded Pie Equalization Precipitate."
O no, o no, o no! THANKSGIVING! Aieeeeeeeeeeeee!

I open my refrigerator door and see three boxes, each containing leftover pie*. Do you know what this means?

(You feel my hands grip your lapels as I shake you back and forth)


The dreaded Pie Equalization Precipitate! My God! Any unequal amounts of leftover pie in any container, even plastic wrap, poses the gravest threat to the planet!

For example, if I have 3 slices of key lime, 5 of chocolate, and 4 of apple, then I must eat 2 slices of chocolate pie and 1 of apple in order to equalize the number of leftover pie slices lest the Earth's orbit decay and we spiral into the sun! All life on Earth depends on me eating the correct amount of pie! How can I bear this responsibility?

Okay, I'm calming down, calming down, calming...going to my happy place...happyhappyhappy...and now we're home. Okay.

My fellow 'Shipmates, I need your help. Please aid me in saving all life on this planet by equalizing the amount of leftover pie in your homes. Life is lost without you! When you reach the end of this post, run--don't walk--to your kitchen and IMMEDIATELY eat any unequal amounts of leftover pie.

If you have no pie, any cake or tart will do. Even cornbread in a frying pan! If none of those are available, a bag of cookies will suffice. Barely.

If you only have one pie, you can still help. Look at the number of slices remaining. Make sure to eat any slices that would violate the 90 degree rule: There can be no leftover pie outside any of four equal quadrants of the pie plate, with the axis of the quadrants on the center point of the pie if the pie were still whole.

So, can I trust you, my friends? Please, help me help us all! For liberty and justice forever.

*We were tasked to bring pies to our family's Thanksgiving** dinner, so while other people have leftover turkey, dressing, appetizers, et al, we have leftover pie.

**Note to non-US Shipmates: Even if you don't celebrate Thanksgiving, you can still help! Just make sure you have equal amounts of leftover desserts in your home.

Posted by Tubbs (# 440) on :
When Mr Tubbs first dropped his bombshell about wanting to be a minister, I posted about it in Hosts and got the following PM from Kenwritez:

“Doesn't that [being a minister’s wife] entail you going 'round to ill parishoners and spoon-feeding them nourishing soups? Mentoring the Infants' Bible Class? DittoChurch Mothers? Also, how're your potluck organizing skills? You ought to brush up on your vestry and altar decorating knowledge, as no doubt you'll be asked to head those committees. If I were you, I'd start drinking heavily now”
It was really kind and it never fails to make me laugh. Particularly on days when I really can't work out how you do the vicar's wife thingey.

Posted by Jigsaw (# 11433) on :
Ken's acceptance speech at the Simmie Awards Ceremony:

Posted 02 February, 2009 12:13
"I'd like to thank my producers, my co-stars, and members of the Academy--"

Oh. Sorry, wrong speech.


"Bread, milk, cheese, eggs--"

Damn. Wrong speech again. Forget the written speech.

Thank you for this honor today. I enjoy posting because I hope my words will tickle, entertain, or even move readers. I always, always feel flattered and appreciative when people tell me they enjoyed my posts.

Thank you again, and I extend my sincerest best wishes to my fellow competitors. I am blessed to be in their company.

frin, this is for you:

............ x
....step...bend...hands up!... x pause
.... x ... jumpjump.....x x x...
....step bend...pause.x
... pause ..... x x x leap....x x.... spin ....
......... x
... spin . x
Posted by Adeodatus (# 4992) on :
As a sci-fi fan, I loved this contribution to the thread You Know You've Gone Overboard With The Sci-Fi & Fantasy When...

Whew! I thought *I* was the only one who thought of hyperspeed undies during Laundry Day.

You Know You've Gone Overboard With The Sci-Fi & Fantasy When:

When you watch sf movies/tv shows, you automatically know which aliens are friendly and which are invaders.

If an alien saucer zipped down in front of you and the pilot offered to take you on an inter-galactic odyssey, the first word out of your mouth would be, "Cool!"

You've thought space travel is wasted on astronauts.

You can barely contain your frustration during movies/tv shows showing human-alien negotiation/interaction because the humans act like morons.

You can't understand why you're dateless--again--on a Saturday night vis-a-vis human women when Capt. Kirk scored with an alien babe every week.

You secretly yearn for a hand-held particle beam weapon. Lasers are for wussies.

You'd rather live on Deep Space 9 than where you do now.

Piloting a starship--how hard could it be?

Aliens are idiots; they're always appearing to lonely farmers, never to someone who could really appreciate them--you.

You've noticed people in sf movies/tv shows never have to go to the bathroom.

If you're male, as a boy you secretly prayed for Lt. Uhura to bend over to pick up a dropped paperclip.
Posted by The Amazing Mavis (# 5077) on :
Great chef that he was, I'll always treasure his helpful hints on how best to cook a penis.

I dunno, tomb, the Sinester may actually be on to something here; doggone I'd never thought of it before. A flour and egg wash followed by a trip into a deep fryer would render a raw penis that was...hmmm...well, I think it would cook up pretty well.

In deep frying, the batter protects the food from direct exposure to the hot fat, thus drying out, so a batter fried penis would certainly be moist enough. (Anyone care for a corndog? )

Since spongy tissue is composed more of empty space than discrete tissue (think of a kitchen sponge), and heat breaks down protein over time, you'd need a cooking technique that would prevent the penis meat from dehydrating too much while at the same time weakening the molecular bonds between the tissue vacuoles enough to render the meat into something with a good mouthfeel; i.e., not too chewy. (This is why some cuts of meat are best cooked a longer time over a lower heat versus a shorter time over a high heat.)

I think Sine is right; deep frying would provide the ideal cooking environment, but you're very limited in what you can do with the batter to add flavor. Also, you want to cook the whole penis all the way through. You don't want a burnt exterior and raw interior! Given we don't know the size of the penis, I suggest prior to cooking halving it length-wise with a sharp knife. This would double the cookable surface area and halve the cross section of tissue the heat would have to reach through and cook.

IMHO the penis would best be served (pun intended) by pan searing it first in wine, garlic and some fresh herbs, giving it that first burst of heat to carmelize the exterior, then perhaps a quick saute, then transferring it to the tempura batter and into the fryer. While the penis is cooking, add some more wine and cream, plus a bit of butter, to the fry pan to deglaze it, reducing the liquid by about a third to a half. This will build a simple pan gravy and will work for any cut of meat.

Pull the penis out when it's GB&D (golden brown & delicious), plate it, drizzle the pan gravy around it, then go with the potatoes you suggested tomb. I think two kiwi fruit at one end would serve as a nice garnish, don't you?

Followed not long after by marinade suggestions for another shipmate.

Marinade #1 for Jerry Boam
2 1/2 tablespoons soy sauce
1/2 teaspoon minced peeled fresh gingerroot
3 tablespoons brown sugar
1 tablespoon medium-dry Sherry
1 tablespoon white-wine vinegar
1 garlic clove, minced and mashed to a paste with 1/2 teaspoon salt

This marinade is per pound of meat to be served.

If you wanted something a bit more robust, try this one, per two pounds of meat to be served:

Marinade #2 for Jerry Boam
1/3 cup dark beer
1/3 cup soy sauce
1/3 cup Dijon mustard
1/4 cup firmly packed dark brown sugar
1 onion, minced
1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
8 whole black peppercorns

I've never tried cooking either, but I keep them handy, just in case.
Posted by Lothlorien (# 4927) on :
Thank you Mavis. [Killing me]

I read this post just after reading Lost in Translation by Tim Bowden from the ABC.

What a great start to a Friday morning.
Posted by comet (# 10353) on :
a quick trip to the quotes thread:
originally posted by KenWritez:
I inspire raging hormones like Genghis Khan riding little red blood cells across the steppes of your hippocampus.


BTW, I do a pulled pork BBQ so good it'll make a bishop kick a hole in a stained glass window.

Most times I'm full up to here (gestures) with all the round-robin bullshit bickering I see on the Ship. The same arguments. The same invincible ignorance. More of the same assholes, just with different names. Like trying to corral a roomful of methamphetamine addicts with rage control issues. How Erin and the admins have survived this long without climbing a tower and shooting people is a miracle, a testimony to God's grace, strict gun laws, and the power of self-medication.
(can we post that one at the top of the Styx?)
Don't piss me off! I'm on Atkins and I'd kill you just for the protein
that's all for now, rushing to work.

I miss that man!
Posted by comet (# 10353) on :
PS - just came across this. it's not KW's and I have no idea what I was referring too, but it does make one think of him!
Originally posted by comet:
KenW's been taking the megalomania pills again.

Posted by Kelly Alves (# 2522) on :
Patdys reminded me of this one:

Originally posted by Kelly Alves:
As this came flying out of my mouth the other day under duress, I figured I should thank Kenwritez:

F**k me running.
[Edited for Hellishness]
Originally posted by KenWritez:
The day of my funeral, Kelly's going to come forward and place a single rose on my casket. Someone will ask what I meant to her, and she'll answer, "He taught me 'f*ck me running.'"

It's legacies like this that are truly priceless. [Eek!]

( I only wish I could have really been there with that rose.) [Tear]

Originally posted by Gill H:
From Kenwritez on the 'Justifying a Christian Hell thread':

The Ship is a community full of lumpty, bumpty people and Alan Cresswell, it's not a frickin' TV show where all our problems are resolved in 22 minutes and four advertising breaks.

Originally posted by KenWritez:
For those clergy trying to increase membership, I can walk into the church and instantly double the size of the congregation.

On "Hell:Calling God to Hell":

People in pain need to be loved sacrificially, unconditionally accepted, they need to know YOU are there with them, YOU, you as in your heart and soul and spirit, NOT your lectures or good advice. They know you can't take away their pain, that's not the point! The point is that you give of the one thing no one else can duplicate: Yourself, your essence, your identity as a fellow human and fellow sufferer.

And, from the same thread, I'll end with this (tonight):

Oh Hell, maybe I'm the one who needs an anger management class.

Here goes.

God, WTF are You thinking, letting me have free will? What, are you stoned? Are you so alien or uninvolved with our lives down here that You don't see how badly I keep fucking up?! [smacks God] Wake up! [/smacks God]. I just lucky? Did I somehow draw the "Become unnoticed by God" special Community Chest card in this cosmic game of mortal Monopoly?

What are You thinking, huh? What is your game plan? Do you HAVE a game plan? Certainly not one You let me in on! How stupid do You hafta be for trusting me with anything resembling real life? I can fuck up a cup of coffee! You KNOW this! It can't be a surprise for You of all people!

Uh you don't! Don't You EVEN tell me You love me! I won't have it, do you understand? Telling me You love me does me exactly fuck all for good! How can You love me? Look at all this shit I've caused, look at these pissed-away opportunities, but my abilities aren't stopping there, no sir! I have yet to really miss one opportunity for hurting myself, much less someone else.

Look inside my heart, God. It's full of rage right now, and shitloads and shitloads of fear with a fat, charming dollop of lust on top, dusted with a fine sprinkling of greed, served on a bed of crispy sloth, with a nice side salad of gossip, a trough of gluttony, and an ice-cold chalice of pride to wash it all down! I'm mad, I'm afraid, I'm paranoid as hell and I'm really gonna hafta pee in a few minutes.

Why do You keep telling me You love me when Your love doesn't fit what I see as love? Where the Hell did I get these standards, anyway? Why do I struggle with the shit in my life that I do? Why isn't my life easier, more like a beer commercial?

What--is that it? Am I having so much trouble because I think my life should work like that of someone on tv? Like some worthless shit-for-brains sitcom?! Or, worse yet, some pettifogging, goat-raping ADVERTISEMENT? I should always be trim and muscular, a male model with six-pack abs and a twelve inch blue steel throbber? My life is sad and incomplete without a silk suit, a fat wad of cash and plastic, a .44 magnum and a hot car, trophy sluts pushing their siliconed racks against my sinewed arms and vanquished bad guys cowering around my impeccable Cole Haan loafers?

This is all boiling down to: I think I should be the center of the universe?

Holy fucking ego, Batman! I done gone and bought into some serious shit! No fucking wonder, Sherlock! Jeez, why am I smacking God when I should be smacking me?! I'm the true idiot here, not God, although WTF He's trusting me with His love to give to others is a brick topped mystery.

So...You do love me after all. You love me despite all the shit I put You through and all the fire alarms I ring in Your house at night. You do keep on loving me when by any reasonable standards You ought to've bitch-slapped my fat, fucked-up ass into orbit around Pluto by now.

You love me? You're one sick puppy, God. Thank you.

Posted by saysay (# 6645) on :
You Never See a Jesuit's Skeleton in a Tree:
[With apologies to Gin and to all Roman Catholics.]

One late night I heard the heart-wrenching cry of a Jesuit stuck on a third-floor ledge on the building across the street from mine. How did he get there? Nobody's home in that apartment.

What to do? I called the local seminary, but their offices are closed and the voice mailbox for the emergency line is too full for me to leave a message.

The guy at the city's non-emergency help line says the department in charge of Jesuit rescues (there is such a thing?) won't open until 8 AM. Lutherans!

I call 911 to get a fire truck to rescue this poor Jesuit. It's still pouring rain, and he's obviously scared out of his mind. The ledge he's on is barely four inches wide, and it's about 32 feet above the ground. The 911 operator tells me this is not an emergency, and directs me to call 311 before she hangs up. Arrgh.

Finally, I walk up to a nearby Roman Catholic cathedral and explain the situation to the priest on duty. He goes on the PA, notifies the dispatcher, and next thing I know, it's a scene from the movie "The Bells of St. Mary's." Within seconds, about a half-dozen of NYC's finest priests and bishops come running down the stairs, get suited up, and get on their truck. The garage door clatters open, and the truck roars off with sirens wailing, lights flashing, and incense smoking.

I run after them, and get to the scene just a few seconds after they do. They've got their flashlights out, and have located the Jesuit. A bishop turns to me and says, "A Jesuit? I thought you said a cat was stuck on a ledge!"

We finally see the window behind the Jesuit is actually open a few inches. And what does he do after sitting on the ledge and crying for an hour? He naturally gives himself a tongue bath and then goes back inside the apartment and turns on the tv.

The bishop turns to me and says, "There's a reason you never see a Jesuit's skeleton in a tree."

Posted by Amazing Grace (# 95) on :
Originally posted by Kelly Alves:
Patdys reminded me of this one:

Originally posted by Kelly Alves:
As this came flying out of my mouth the other day under duress, I figured I should thank Kenwritez:

F**k me running.
[Edited for Hellishness]
Originally posted by KenWritez:
The day of my funeral, Kelly's going to come forward and place a single rose on my casket. Someone will ask what I meant to her, and she'll answer, "He taught me 'f*ck me running.'"

It's legacies like this that are truly priceless. [Eek!]

( I only wish I could have really been there with that rose.) [Tear]

No casket, Kel! He must have anticipated you [Killing me] but I wish you'd told me, I could have arranged something. [Biased]

Posted by Amazing Grace (# 95) on :
As you might have guessed from my last point, I had the privilege of being at Ken's memorial service. LynnMagdalenCollege, Scot, and Thumbprint were there representing the Ship. Scot was resplendent in his finest formal aloha wear.

There were a lot of stories, and as you might imagine, a lot of them were funny. We also, as you might have guessed, got fed pretty well afterwards.

Ken's Simmie was prominently displayed on the memorabilia (I don't think that's the right spelling. I normally know how to spell that word. This means I should drink some more). The Ship got a major shout-out during the memorial remarks and many of Ken's friends and family are very eager to see this side of him. So please tell your stories!

During the last musical interlude - a rockin' number in the style of early U2 - I leaned over to Lynn and whispered "I see Ken doing an interpretive dance". (Yes, we were asked to explain the interpretive dance thing later in the evening.)

One of my alltime favorite Kenwritez things was the whole Phil the Wise Guy schtick from the Nativity Play. I heard it said on usenet that "the good old days of X group were always six months before YOU got there". This rule was never so true as it was for me, arriving approximately six months after this all. (If you haven't read the whole thing, find a couple of hours and do so.)

More later, maybe. Right now I plan to drink some more and laugh and cry with the memories. "Give rest, O Lord, to your servant with your saints."


Posted by comet (# 10353) on :
Originally posted by Kelly Alves:
And, from the same thread, I'll end with this (tonight):

Oh Hell, maybe I'm the one who needs an anger management class.

Here goes.

God, WTF are You thinking, letting me have free will? What, are you stoned?[...]
You love me? You're one sick puppy, God. Thank you.

ah. there's the tears. took long enough.

thanks Kel.
Posted by Marvin the Martian (# 4360) on :
My all-time favourite Ken post has long since gone to the ether (it was in the days before Oblivion). However, I offer this snippet from the Shipmates I'd like to eat thread, where he came up with a truly delightful recipie for me...

Turning to the distaff, we have Marvin the Martian on the table. Mr. Rock'n'roll. Frankly, he's going to need a lot of work, I fear.

For Marvin, I see him as a peppery stir-fry or as jerky. He looks like he smokes, which would cause an unpleasant nicotine flavor to the meat, so I definitely suggest a thorough cold water cleaning and then an overnight milk bath for him, changing out the milk every few hours. This will tenderize the meat and rid it of any unpleasant flavors.

For the stiry-fry, take a kilo of Marvin flank steak and cut in 3 cm strips across the grain. Marinate the meat for about two to four hours in soy sauce, sugar, a small amount of smashed fresh ginger, a splash of white wine or orange juice, red pepper flakes and a splash of fish sauce (nam pla). Make a slurry of cornstarch, cold water, a dab of soysauce. Stir fry the meat with sliced red bell pepper, bok choy, celery slices, peanuts and the slurry, let it thicken for about a minute, then serve with bean sprouts and shredded carrot on top.

Wrong, but delicious [Smile]
Posted by Smudgie (# 2716) on :
For me, anything that Kenwritez wrote was worth reading (and a fond memory was of the PM he sent during the Let's Offend thread when he was worried he might really be offending people [Smile] )
The ones which truly stick in my mind, however, were from that SoF classic, the Nativity Play. It's hard to find the best Kenwritez post - they were mostly cumulative in effect and there's not room here to quote the entire play - but his post on arriving in Bethlehem and bringing the Wise Man's gifts to Jesus has to be amongst the best. Just to explain one thing - the Nativity Play was done in Real Time and the scene for the arrival of the Wise Men was notable for the fact that they actually didn't turn up until the rest of the cast had gone to bed due to time zone difficulties!


Phil shakes his head sorrowfully.

"Nope, still looks like 'Bill' to me. 'Course, he is da Savior, da Messiah, da Big Paisan from Upstairs, but I woulda thought they woulda gone fer a name like...erm...uhhh...'Vinny'! Yeah, dat's da ticket!

O know how long it's gonna be before she <points sneakered toe at snoring BVM> learns how to make a decent marinara sauce? She's just a kid, so's her ol' man! Kids raisin' kids! Sheesh!

Well, kids or not, He's here and you gotta do what you gotta do.

Phil rummages in the black bag.

"I dint know what to get her, but I got dis great box o' smokes for da kid. Genuwine Cuban Frankincense cigars an alla dat, I was gonna smoke 'em, den I t'ought better of it. <Lays box of cigars at Jesus' feet.> They'll come in handy when he gets married, has kids of his own."

He looks more closely at BJ. "Man, he's gonna get cold!"

Phil pulls out an infant-sized Whitesnake Christmas Tour t-shirt and gently tucks it around the sleeping baby.

He rummages in the bag again, pulls out a folded paper deed and tucks it in Joseph's robe.

"For Joey, me and da boys went in and bought him a lil' woodshop in Nazareth and a set a power toolz. It's only right; he's just startin' out, he should have his own place. Don't worry, no strings and it's clean, da Romans can't trace nuttin' back to him or to us."

"For da Beevem, I just dint know what to get 'er. Den some friends and I found dis mink coat what had...ahh...dropped offa dis speeding truck, see? Too dark to read da name, so what wuz we gonna do? Let a poifectly good coat go ta waste? It's a Myrrh brand coat, supposeda be da best."

Phil gently spreads the coat over the sleeping BVM, who turns, still snoring, and begins to drool a bit.

Phil looks at the sleeping family, pauses a bit, then softly recites: "Glory to God in the highest, and peace on earth to all men."

He pauses for a beat, then whips out an enormous hankie and honks into it.

Posted by iGeek (# 777) on :
The entire Ask Sine thread. Two of the best wits on the ship in a duet -- it was amazing!

One tidbit:

KenWritz wrote:
This actually happened, and it's my favorite social disaster (of biblical proportions).

The Smiths are having a dinner party one night. Unbeknownst to them, a plumbing problem over the years has been allowing raw sewage to build up in the wall space. So of course on the dinner party night of all nights the pressure in the wall reaches the breaking point and said wall bursts open, showering everyone with sewage. (Incidentally, also ruining the dinner party.)

(Sidebar: The family decided to send apology notes to their guests, and actually held a contest (through a magazine, IIRC) to find the best worded note.)

Sine, if you were Mr. Smith, how would you handle such a situation, and if you were to send an apology note, how would you phrase it?

To which Sine responded:
"I am terribly sorry about the little mishap the other evening. Please send me your dry-cleaning bill and the bill for the hepatitis shots."

Ken, are you nuts? Some things in life are just plain awful and aren't fixable. I'd say that's one of them. Of course I don't believe it actually happened because the smell would have been a giveaway and the drywall would have gotten soaked through and began to bulge outward. Moreover it would be a very strange floorplan that would have the bathroom pipes running through the dining room walls.

But there are occasions when you just have to start over with new friends. That's why it's better to have a yacht than a villa. You can always sail away.

Posted by duchess (# 2764) on :
from the Gallery

Stevie Boy Wonder Well, Ken, I'd always pictured you as looking like Ned Flanders... but now, it seems obvious that this is what you look like!!! And what a nice shirt you have!
(photo) I especially like the way this photo captures the feeling from his gaze that he is not only thinking of eating you, but he's actually imagining the best way to cook you.
(photo) where's the pink antennae?
(photo) Barry White has nothing on you, KenWritez. Smooth Hawaiian shirt in photo all da way. Mahalo.
(photo) The 20th Century had G K Chesterton. I guess the 21st has the edge on it.
(photo) I'm holding dinner.
(photo) Ken, you're a veritable Falstaff!
Lynn MagdalenCollege
(photo) I'm sure he does know the best way to cook us. At least those of us who are edible... ("now seating Donner party of six ...uh, five...")
(photo) Damn, he is on fire.
Gort Ken, I have a solution. Quit trimming the eyebrows, grow 'em really long, then comb straight back and over. Mousse liberally.
(photo) Cute even without garlic!
Gort HeeHeee! I'll keep ya warm in the winter and give ya shade in the summer!
Pax Romana
(photo) Just stay away from my cat!
Gort My epic novel will be finished soon! If I can only stop lurking SoF!
(photo) You look like Pavarotti
(photo) You really do!
(photo) Ah, you've touched on an old sore point. I look lke Pavarotti but, sad to say, I can't sing worth a damn.
(photo) "(Urp!) I just ate Gort! He was delicious, if a little chewy."
Gort Whoa! It's dark in here. <bump> What was that?? Oh! Just another victim of conspicuous cannibal consumption.
(photo) <running in the other directions now...>
(photo) Duchess: The other white meat.
Posted by Golden Key (# 1468) on :
I may be wrong about this, but...

Once upon a time, there was a troll and/or disturbed shipmate who claimed to be a screenwriter. I don't want to invoke him, so I shall spell out his name: T-h-o-m-a-s D-F. (I think he changed his name once or twice, too.)

Anyway, when said shipmate was wreaking havoc, I seem to remember that he and Kenwritez dueled on some of the Hell threads, K. perhaps saying that the shipmate knew nothing of screenwriting, etc., etc.

I took a quick look at the Oblivion board, and didn't find the shipmate's name anywhere. I don't know if that means that the threads were wiped out, or his name was changed, or what.

Posted by Chorister (# 473) on :
Unfortunately, although I have kept copies of several Ship poems and silly songs, I neglected to copy the names of the authors. I'll know in future to do this, because one of them could have been a 'Kenwritez'.

However, I do recall the time when Kenwritez very cheekily took a hidden camera into the Admin's Secret Boudoir [Eek!] :

Post by Kenwritez:
History of the Ship (20 May 2003)

So what is a typical day of SoF life like for you, Erin and/or Simon?

(Images of velvet chaise lounges, nubile body servants wearing gauzy vestments carrying silver salvers of peeled grapes, and eunuchs slowly waving huge ostrich plume fans come to mind....)

Posted by Chorister (# 473) on :
Even short replies contained a nugget of delightful humour. This is Kenwritez on the Ship's Citizen Test thread:

Hmmm, I got 6 / 12. It means either I need to get out to different areas of the Ship more often, or real life doth intrude too much 'pon my Ship time. Or it could just mean I have CRS (Can't Remember Shit) Syndrome.
Posted by Horseman Bree (# 5290) on :
How does one find the Nativity Play? I've only been here since late '03, so I wasn't able to read it "live".
Posted by basso (# 4228) on :
Originally posted by Horseman Bree:
How does one find the Nativity Play? I've only been here since late '03, so I wasn't able to read it "live".

Here 'tis.
Posted by Miffy (# 1438) on :
My personal favourites

On the 'Ask Sine' thread: Ken's 'robust' response to my guilt trip re wanton neglect my motherly laundry duties vis a vis my (then) 15 year-old son.


Miffy, is your son older than 8? If so, do you also spoonfeed him when he eats and dress him every morning in his little sailor suit? If he's at least semi-functional, he's perfectly capable of washing his own choneys! Why are you the Laundry Slave? If he complains, hand him a box of detergent, point him to the washer, and kick him in the butt.

And in Belisarius's 'Heaven - A Soap Opera Kelly Alve's Bunny Army close in on the Heavenly Hosts.



(bunny army halts, their little eyes glowing in zombie-like stupor. They sit on their haunches, still surrounding victims)

Do you want to hear my list of demands, or do I yell "sic"? [Kelly Alves]

Kenwritez wraps the stopped bunnies in strips of smoked bacon and sprigs of rosemary, salts and pappers them, spritzes them with 4 T of lemon juice, then pops them into the greased, doughed pie plates at 375 degrees F for 40 minutes.

DING! <oven bell rings rings>

The wonderful smell of baked hasenpfeffer with rosemary and bacon spreads thoughout the room. Even Kelly's nose twitches and she licks her lips in desire for a taste.

[Thus prompting Kingsfold into agonies of remorse, aided and abetted by Rowen and Chris T. You had to be there to appreciate it. [Smile] ]
Posted by Kelly Alves (# 2522) on :
[Killing me]

I totally forgot about that thread!
Posted by Duo Seraphim (# 256) on :
Well, here is KenWritez pointing out the Painfully Bleeding Obvious to a stroppy nOOb.

Here he is on the subject of Hellhosting.

But I think I'll leave you with his last word...
Originally posted by El Greco:
What kind of god helps someone find their keys or take a good grade at an exam, but leaves children starve to death or get raped?

The same God who sends rain on the just and the unjust.

The same kind of God who allows us to use our free will for good or evil.
That'll do for me.
Posted by Joyeux (# 3851) on :
Originally posted by Smudgie:
For me, anything that Kenwritez wrote was worth reading (and a fond memory was of the PM he sent during the Let's Offend thread when he was worried he might really be offending people [Smile] )

Me, too! I'm keeping that PM in my box!
Posted by Chelley (# 11322) on :
I've so enjoyed reading this assortment of KenWritez's posts... what a wit!
As soon as I heard the sad news I went to my PM's remembering one he'd sent to a fellow resident of 'wonderland'! (KW's location: Left coast of Wonderland, by the rabbit hole)
How chuffed I was to get that message of neighbourliness [Smile] and disappointed at what I suspected... it was long gone, but at least in oblivion we have many other gems!
Posted by duchess (# 2764) on :
His comment on my photo in the gallery always makes me laugh, I really miss his witty ways with words.

(photo) "Come here, my pretty boy, and let me explain 5 point Calvinism to you while you're in the magic of a 5 point restraint harnes"
Posted by Duo Seraphim (# 256) on :
From Scene 13 of the Nativity Play
Phil the Wise Guy walks out of a its eye-popping climax:

Phil drains off the last of the 1999 Valpolicella, slaps the bus's "SURFACE" control as klaxons echo down the bus, then strips off his robe, and climbs naked onto the roof of the now-surfaced sub/bus.

He struts back and forth, then bends over and moons.


Phil dances a bit more, then announces:

"OK, drunks-- no, I mean, marg-- margaritas for everyone as soon as we land in friendly turrit-- toorit-- soon as we find a good bar!"

Phil clambers back down the ladder, wraps up in his robe, and, winking at WG, falls into his couch.

...with a first...

Phil wakes up enough to crack one bleary eye open and look at the Chief.

"Chief, you wanna get wide with me and do the Cotton Eyed Joe with Wise Guy and Sheep 3 on the roof of the bus? We don't hafta get nekkid unless you wanna."

...and second encore...

Phil climbs back onto the bus roof, wearing only a smile and some interesting scratches.

"Ok, I'm back!"

"WG, I gotta tell ya, a sheeps-- a shee-- a sheePPP isnot da best choice for your objay duhmoor.

Yes, dey are nice'n'fluffyfluffy'nfluffy'n'alla that, but tell me, what kinda loo-- LIFE are you gonna have with one?

I mean, what woodjer kids like look? 'Ey'd be know. Sheepish.

All I'm sayin' is...all I'm sayin' just think about it, 'kay? 'Kay!"

Phil attempts to dance the Cotton Eyed Joe.

...and an instant reprise of the Adoration of the Wise Guys

"Man, I musta drank some bad stuff! My head!" Phil leans over and noisily yaks into the bushes.

Wiping his mouth, he looks around. "WTF? Last time I checked, we was cruising off the coast of Palestine, semi-submerged, and now we're back at da stable wit da Baby J! O well...."

Phil grabs his ditty bag and an extra Whitesnake tshirt and wraps it around himself like a sarong, then jumps down from the bus, and sees the stable door open.

He creeps toward it and looks in.

The Family of Families is still peacefully asleep.

Phil wipes his eyes and sidles in, stopping at the foot of the manger occupied by the sleeping Deity.

"Kid, it's good ta see youse again. You got a long road ta walk, and it's not gonna be easy. You're gonna need all da love your daddy an' mommy an' family can give youse, so here's my two bits."

Phil takes off his wedding ring. "We lost our stuff at Herod's so we dint have no king-type gifts for youse, so here's some gold as what befits a king."

He rummages in his ditty bag.

"We lost the frankincese, too, da boys at define it as, 'An aromatic gum resin obtained from African an' Asian trees of da genus Boswellia and used chiefly as incense and in poifumes.' So here's my Old Spice deodorant. Best I can do. It's da high edurance, Sport style; stays on longer, smells fresh."

He looks around the stable.

"I don't see nuttin' dat can be myrrh, supposeda be some kinda poifume, according to it's, '...aromatic gum resin obtained from several trees and shrubs of da genus Commiphora of India, Arabia, an' eastern Africa, used in poifume and incense. Also called balm of Gilead.'"

Phil rummages in his ditty bag again.

"Only t'ing I got is my aftershave here, some Brut. Go easy, kid; a lil' goes a long way."

He pulls out some foil-wrapped packets that contain some kind of thin circular object. He looks at them in his hand, looks at the sleeping Infant, then to his hand, then back to the Infant.

"Naw, I don' t'ink youse gonna need dese. I'll hang on to 'em for youse. But hey, you ever do, I'm your guy."

Oh so gently grasping Jesus' tiny wrist with his left fingers, he lightly high fives Jesus' palm to his own.

"You da Man. You da Son of Man, kid. And da woild will never be da same. Glory to God in da highest."

Phils kneels, eyes resting on the gently glowing, sleeping sheep next to the manger, and stands, then honks into his hankie again and quietly leaves the stable.

Walking to the bus, he notices most everyone is asleep.

Laughing, he swings into the vacant driver's position, lights a new cigar, fires up the rumbling engines, and with a hiss of released air brakes, eases the swaying bus onto the night-kissed highway out of Bethlehem, away from Jerusalem.

Exeunt omnes
Posted by jlg (# 98) on :
Duo, that was Ken, an amazing combination of reverent and irreverent, funny as hell and lovely as heaven.
Posted by Lynn MagdalenCollege (# 10651) on :
The Sturdy Wench should talk several long slow walks through the Gallery because KenWritez often posted (hilariously) on Shipmates' photos:

For Karl: Liberal Backslider: He just doesn't look like I pictured K:LB. He looks too... errmm... friendly. And desperate to pee.


Or on my own photo, here's the full interaction:

KenWritez: Trouble. Nuthin' but trouble.... Altho she's the cool older aunt you talk to when your own parents are hopeless.
Bishops Finger: Hmm...looks like a cool younger aunt to me....
KenWritez: Younger? Pah! Young people know nothing, they're immature, unripe. Look at this lovely woman--look at the depth of life's experience in those gorgeous eyes! Feel the aura of wisdom she exudes! This is a woman who's lived, *lived* I tell you! Sucked the marrow out of life and tossed away the bones! This is the friend that lonely, confused male models can seek out for solace and comfort as only she can give.
Bishops Finger: All very well, KenWritez - but from the point of view of my advancing years, this is definitely a younger person......apart from that, I agree with you entirely!
Lynn MagdalenCollege: Actually, I lined my lair with the bones and chew on them during the long, dark night of the soul...
KenWritez: I haven't been able to see any broccoli flecks in her teeth. Good dental hygiene!
LynnMagdalenCollege: this might have been *before* the banquet...
JillieRose: Infectiously smiley picture. I'm grinning now too!
Pax Romana: I tend to go with an "cool ageless aunt" assessment myself.
KenWritez: "I'd like to thank the members of the Academy as well as my dentist, Dr. Emile Phurbottom, available at 1-800-555-1212, of 2789 Medical Center Drive, Lower Toledo, California, 91109, open Monday thru Friday from 9 - 4 and Saturdays 12-3 and accepts cash, traveler's checks, personal checks with two forms of photo I.D. please and all major credit cards, most dental insurance plans, free parking in the rear, lollipops for the kids!"

We will miss him until we see him again in Heaven-- *sigh*
Posted by Kelly Alves (# 2522) on :
Postscript to the quote above:

The wonderful smell of baked hasenpfeffer with rosemary and bacon spreads throughout the room. Even Kelly's nose twitches and she licks her lips in desire for a taste.

Today Basso and I stopped for Lunch at the Tyrolean Inn in Ben Lomond today (I plug it becasue it rocked) and when we asked about the specials, the waiter let us know that hasenpfeffer was available. Out eyes met across the table, and we metaphorically tossed our previously planned orders over our shoulders, and split a plate.

Second time I had rabbit in my life and Ohmyholy GOD, it was yummy. I was glad we ordered the spaetzle to sop up the sauce, as it prevented me from licking it straight off the plate.

And we raised our glasses to Ken, of course.

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