'Gentlemen: I no longer want to receive email from the Fairchild
Club. Please remove email address Checkpoint2@comcast .net
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]'
Re: Remove my email address
Re: Remove my email address
'"The Unsubscribed"
The cold fog thickened noticeably as the newcomer hurried towards his
destination. He pulled his heavy overcoat around his neck a little more
tightly. This part of the city was not a place to tarry. Thieves and
whores were the only permanent residents here. Even the cops rolled
through these streets with a nervousness and an edge to heir normal
macho banter. Trouble and misery closed around everyone who ventured
into this pustule of urban blight like a leech on a warm vein.
"Damn!", he hissed under his breath as he stepped on something soft that
squealed and skittered off into the darkness and dankness of the mist.
It can't be much farther he thought. It mustn't be much farther.
The sickly yellow flicker of light from a street lamp shone dimly
through the fog as he quickened his pace.
There it was. The doorway seemed to be just blackness without
definition.
As he got closer, two winos eyed him suspiciously through bloodshot and
yellowed eyes. He hustled past them, their breath leaving a rank scent
that lingered on his clothes. The door pushed inward and the newcomer
was inside.
The room was smoky and dim. The bar stank of liquor and broken dreams.
Several tables decorated the periphery. The man he had come to see was
sitting at one of those tables and beckoned him over to sit. The man
was darkly clothed and utterly shapeless. He might have weighed three
hundred pounds... or he may have been only bone. His shape was
indecipherable. The dark mans eyes were gazing down at the dirty glass
in his hand, half filled with cheap whiskey. He had been reading a
glossy magazine filled with lurid and obscene images. He folded it
tenderly and stuffed it quickly into his coat pocket like a vulture
gobbling a rotten piece of flesh.
"What is it you want of me?", the dark man asked, not lifting his eyes
from the glass. His voice rumbled deep in his belly like a toad.
"I need you to tell me how to unsubscribe", said the newcomer in as even
a tone as he could muster.
The dark man looked up from his glass slowly to gaze at the newcomer.
His eyes were a pale watery blue. And his gaze lingered on the
newcomer.
"You wish to unsubscribe?", he said, with a hint of amusement in his
voice but no trace of a smile on his thick pasty lips. "You come to me
with a need to unsubscribe?", he said, his voice getting louder now and
any hint of amusement gone. He sucked in his breath and hissed through
his teeth spraying the newcomer with a repulsive mist of spittle, "Why?
Tell me why it is that you wish to unsubscribe."
The newcomer felt fear now creeping up his spine. "I don't have the
time to sort through all the posts", he mumbled.
The dark man sat unmoved, his eyes stared at the newcomer without
emotion. His eyes were cold and amphibian.
"And I sold the Fairchild and bought a Cirrus", added the newcomer.
He realized in a heart beat that he should not have said that. The dark
man had him by the throat with a quickness that seemed otherworldly.
And the dark man squeezed that throat as the newcomer wriggled and
squirmed in a voiceless scream. The dark man pulled the newcomers face
to his own until they nearly touched noses. He breathed his fetid
breath on the newcomer and a trickle of drool escaped his mouth to plop
loudly on the table between them.
"Go!", he rumbled. "Go now you fool!", he bellowed. "Run if you can.
It shall do you no good! Once you have subscribed, all hope of ever
unsubscribing is gone! We will find you. Your email is now ours to
control. Your email box will fill to bursting with our messages.
And there is no hope for you. There is no good deed you can do to
change what you have done. The List will not be denied!"
And with that he released the newcomer who reeled and staggered towards
the door, gagging and stumbling. The dark man began to laugh, a low
rumbling laugh that grew louder. The newcomer fled up the streets as he
had come with the croaking bellowing laughter chasing him. He was
doomed...
and he knew it.
The dark man sat back at the table in the dimly lit bar and sipped at
his drink.
"I guess I could have just told him to go to
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/fairchildclub/ and use the one
click unsubscribe URL at the end of page", he muttered under his breath.
No, he smiled to himself. That would have been all too easy. Still
chuckling to himself, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the
magazine he had been reading before the newcomer interrupted him. He
quickly thumbed through the slick and edge worn pages until he found his
place. He never missed a single word of each and every issue of Martha
Stewart Living...
From: fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com [mailto:fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com]
On Behalf Of Bob Haas
Sent: Saturday, April 23, 2011 9:01 AM
To: fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com
Subject: [fairchildclub] Remove my email address
Gentlemen: I no longer want to receive email from the Fairchild
Club. Please remove email address Checkpoint2@comcast .net
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]'
The cold fog thickened noticeably as the newcomer hurried towards his
destination. He pulled his heavy overcoat around his neck a little more
tightly. This part of the city was not a place to tarry. Thieves and
whores were the only permanent residents here. Even the cops rolled
through these streets with a nervousness and an edge to heir normal
macho banter. Trouble and misery closed around everyone who ventured
into this pustule of urban blight like a leech on a warm vein.
"Damn!", he hissed under his breath as he stepped on something soft that
squealed and skittered off into the darkness and dankness of the mist.
It can't be much farther he thought. It mustn't be much farther.
The sickly yellow flicker of light from a street lamp shone dimly
through the fog as he quickened his pace.
There it was. The doorway seemed to be just blackness without
definition.
As he got closer, two winos eyed him suspiciously through bloodshot and
yellowed eyes. He hustled past them, their breath leaving a rank scent
that lingered on his clothes. The door pushed inward and the newcomer
was inside.
The room was smoky and dim. The bar stank of liquor and broken dreams.
Several tables decorated the periphery. The man he had come to see was
sitting at one of those tables and beckoned him over to sit. The man
was darkly clothed and utterly shapeless. He might have weighed three
hundred pounds... or he may have been only bone. His shape was
indecipherable. The dark mans eyes were gazing down at the dirty glass
in his hand, half filled with cheap whiskey. He had been reading a
glossy magazine filled with lurid and obscene images. He folded it
tenderly and stuffed it quickly into his coat pocket like a vulture
gobbling a rotten piece of flesh.
"What is it you want of me?", the dark man asked, not lifting his eyes
from the glass. His voice rumbled deep in his belly like a toad.
"I need you to tell me how to unsubscribe", said the newcomer in as even
a tone as he could muster.
The dark man looked up from his glass slowly to gaze at the newcomer.
His eyes were a pale watery blue. And his gaze lingered on the
newcomer.
"You wish to unsubscribe?", he said, with a hint of amusement in his
voice but no trace of a smile on his thick pasty lips. "You come to me
with a need to unsubscribe?", he said, his voice getting louder now and
any hint of amusement gone. He sucked in his breath and hissed through
his teeth spraying the newcomer with a repulsive mist of spittle, "Why?
Tell me why it is that you wish to unsubscribe."
The newcomer felt fear now creeping up his spine. "I don't have the
time to sort through all the posts", he mumbled.
The dark man sat unmoved, his eyes stared at the newcomer without
emotion. His eyes were cold and amphibian.
"And I sold the Fairchild and bought a Cirrus", added the newcomer.
He realized in a heart beat that he should not have said that. The dark
man had him by the throat with a quickness that seemed otherworldly.
And the dark man squeezed that throat as the newcomer wriggled and
squirmed in a voiceless scream. The dark man pulled the newcomers face
to his own until they nearly touched noses. He breathed his fetid
breath on the newcomer and a trickle of drool escaped his mouth to plop
loudly on the table between them.
"Go!", he rumbled. "Go now you fool!", he bellowed. "Run if you can.
It shall do you no good! Once you have subscribed, all hope of ever
unsubscribing is gone! We will find you. Your email is now ours to
control. Your email box will fill to bursting with our messages.
And there is no hope for you. There is no good deed you can do to
change what you have done. The List will not be denied!"
And with that he released the newcomer who reeled and staggered towards
the door, gagging and stumbling. The dark man began to laugh, a low
rumbling laugh that grew louder. The newcomer fled up the streets as he
had come with the croaking bellowing laughter chasing him. He was
doomed...
and he knew it.
The dark man sat back at the table in the dimly lit bar and sipped at
his drink.
"I guess I could have just told him to go to
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/fairchildclub/ and use the one
click unsubscribe URL at the end of page", he muttered under his breath.
No, he smiled to himself. That would have been all too easy. Still
chuckling to himself, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the
magazine he had been reading before the newcomer interrupted him. He
quickly thumbed through the slick and edge worn pages until he found his
place. He never missed a single word of each and every issue of Martha
Stewart Living...
From: fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com [mailto:fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com]
On Behalf Of Bob Haas
Sent: Saturday, April 23, 2011 9:01 AM
To: fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com
Subject: [fairchildclub] Remove my email address
Gentlemen: I no longer want to receive email from the Fairchild
Club. Please remove email address Checkpoint2@comcast .net
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]'
-
David Stroud
- Posts: 171
- Joined: Mon Jun 09, 2003 6:14 am
Re: Remove my email address
'That's a riot, Cy....and a keeper. I may have use for it someday when
others ask that question on a different list.
David Stroud Ottawa, Canada
Christavia C-FDWS
Fairchild 51 replica
under construction C-FYXV
others ask that question on a different list.
David Stroud Ottawa, Canada
Christavia C-FDWS
Fairchild 51 replica
under construction C-FYXV
'----- Original Message -----
From: Cy Galley
To: fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com
Sent: Saturday, April 23, 2011 10:17 AM
Subject: RE: [fairchildclub] Remove my email address
"The Unsubscribed"
The cold fog thickened noticeably as the newcomer hurried towards his
destination. He pulled his heavy overcoat around his neck a little more
tightly. This part of the city was not a place to tarry. Thieves and
whores were the only permanent residents here. Even the cops rolled
through these streets with a nervousness and an edge to heir normal
macho banter. Trouble and misery closed around everyone who ventured
into this pustule of urban blight like a leech on a warm vein.
"Damn!", he hissed under his breath as he stepped on something soft that
squealed and skittered off into the darkness and dankness of the mist.
It can't be much farther he thought. It mustn't be much farther.
The sickly yellow flicker of light from a street lamp shone dimly
through the fog as he quickened his pace.
There it was. The doorway seemed to be just blackness without
definition.
As he got closer, two winos eyed him suspiciously through bloodshot and
yellowed eyes. He hustled past them, their breath leaving a rank scent
that lingered on his clothes. The door pushed inward and the newcomer
was inside.
The room was smoky and dim. The bar stank of liquor and broken dreams.
Several tables decorated the periphery. The man he had come to see was
sitting at one of those tables and beckoned him over to sit. The man
was darkly clothed and utterly shapeless. He might have weighed three
hundred pounds... or he may have been only bone. His shape was
indecipherable. The dark mans eyes were gazing down at the dirty glass
in his hand, half filled with cheap whiskey. He had been reading a
glossy magazine filled with lurid and obscene images. He folded it
tenderly and stuffed it quickly into his coat pocket like a vulture
gobbling a rotten piece of flesh.
"What is it you want of me?", the dark man asked, not lifting his eyes
from the glass. His voice rumbled deep in his belly like a toad.
"I need you to tell me how to unsubscribe", said the newcomer in as even
a tone as he could muster.
The dark man looked up from his glass slowly to gaze at the newcomer.
His eyes were a pale watery blue. And his gaze lingered on the
newcomer.
"You wish to unsubscribe?", he said, with a hint of amusement in his
voice but no trace of a smile on his thick pasty lips. "You come to me
with a need to unsubscribe?", he said, his voice getting louder now and
any hint of amusement gone. He sucked in his breath and hissed through
his teeth spraying the newcomer with a repulsive mist of spittle, "Why?
Tell me why it is that you wish to unsubscribe."
The newcomer felt fear now creeping up his spine. "I don't have the
time to sort through all the posts", he mumbled.
The dark man sat unmoved, his eyes stared at the newcomer without
emotion. His eyes were cold and amphibian.
"And I sold the Fairchild and bought a Cirrus", added the newcomer.
He realized in a heart beat that he should not have said that. The dark
man had him by the throat with a quickness that seemed otherworldly.
And the dark man squeezed that throat as the newcomer wriggled and
squirmed in a voiceless scream. The dark man pulled the newcomers face
to his own until they nearly touched noses. He breathed his fetid
breath on the newcomer and a trickle of drool escaped his mouth to plop
loudly on the table between them.
"Go!", he rumbled. "Go now you fool!", he bellowed. "Run if you can.
It shall do you no good! Once you have subscribed, all hope of ever
unsubscribing is gone! We will find you. Your email is now ours to
control. Your email box will fill to bursting with our messages.
And there is no hope for you. There is no good deed you can do to
change what you have done. The List will not be denied!"
And with that he released the newcomer who reeled and staggered towards
the door, gagging and stumbling. The dark man began to laugh, a low
rumbling laugh that grew louder. The newcomer fled up the streets as he
had come with the croaking bellowing laughter chasing him. He was
doomed...
and he knew it.
The dark man sat back at the table in the dimly lit bar and sipped at
his drink.
"I guess I could have just told him to go to
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/fairchildclub/ and use the one
click unsubscribe URL at the end of page", he muttered under his breath.
No, he smiled to himself. That would have been all too easy. Still
chuckling to himself, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the
magazine he had been reading before the newcomer interrupted him. He
quickly thumbed through the slick and edge worn pages until he found his
place. He never missed a single word of each and every issue of Martha
Stewart Living...
From: fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com [mailto:fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com]
On Behalf Of Bob Haas
Sent: Saturday, April 23, 2011 9:01 AM
To: fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com
Subject: [fairchildclub] Remove my email address
Gentlemen: I no longer want to receive email from the Fairchild
Club. Please remove email address Checkpoint2@comcast .net
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
-
Steve Link
- Posts: 104
- Joined: Thu Nov 23, 2006 5:37 pm
Re: Remove my email address
'Cy, that is excellent!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
From: fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com [mailto:fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com]
On Behalf Of Cy Galley
Sent: Saturday, April 23, 2011 9:18 AM
To: fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com
Subject: RE: [fairchildclub] Remove my email address
"The Unsubscribed"
The cold fog thickened noticeably as the newcomer hurried towards his
destination. He pulled his heavy overcoat around his neck a little more
tightly. This part of the city was not a place to tarry. Thieves and
whores were the only permanent residents here. Even the cops rolled
through these streets with a nervousness and an edge to heir normal
macho banter. Trouble and misery closed around everyone who ventured
into this pustule of urban blight like a leech on a warm vein.
"Damn!", he hissed under his breath as he stepped on something soft that
squealed and skittered off into the darkness and dankness of the mist.
It can't be much farther he thought. It mustn't be much farther.
The sickly yellow flicker of light from a street lamp shone dimly
through the fog as he quickened his pace.
There it was. The doorway seemed to be just blackness without
definition.
As he got closer, two winos eyed him suspiciously through bloodshot and
yellowed eyes. He hustled past them, their breath leaving a rank scent
that lingered on his clothes. The door pushed inward and the newcomer
was inside.
The room was smoky and dim. The bar stank of liquor and broken dreams.
Several tables decorated the periphery. The man he had come to see was
sitting at one of those tables and beckoned him over to sit. The man
was darkly clothed and utterly shapeless. He might have weighed three
hundred pounds... or he may have been only bone. His shape was
indecipherable. The dark mans eyes were gazing down at the dirty glass
in his hand, half filled with cheap whiskey. He had been reading a
glossy magazine filled with lurid and obscene images. He folded it
tenderly and stuffed it quickly into his coat pocket like a vulture
gobbling a rotten piece of flesh.
"What is it you want of me?", the dark man asked, not lifting his eyes
from the glass. His voice rumbled deep in his belly like a toad.
"I need you to tell me how to unsubscribe", said the newcomer in as even
a tone as he could muster.
The dark man looked up from his glass slowly to gaze at the newcomer.
His eyes were a pale watery blue. And his gaze lingered on the
newcomer.
"You wish to unsubscribe?", he said, with a hint of amusement in his
voice but no trace of a smile on his thick pasty lips. "You come to me
with a need to unsubscribe?", he said, his voice getting louder now and
any hint of amusement gone. He sucked in his breath and hissed through
his teeth spraying the newcomer with a repulsive mist of spittle, "Why?
Tell me why it is that you wish to unsubscribe."
The newcomer felt fear now creeping up his spine. "I don't have the
time to sort through all the posts", he mumbled.
The dark man sat unmoved, his eyes stared at the newcomer without
emotion. His eyes were cold and amphibian.
"And I sold the Fairchild and bought a Cirrus", added the newcomer.
He realized in a heart beat that he should not have said that. The dark
man had him by the throat with a quickness that seemed otherworldly.
And the dark man squeezed that throat as the newcomer wriggled and
squirmed in a voiceless scream. The dark man pulled the newcomers face
to his own until they nearly touched noses. He breathed his fetid
breath on the newcomer and a trickle of drool escaped his mouth to plop
loudly on the table between them.
"Go!", he rumbled. "Go now you fool!", he bellowed. "Run if you can.
It shall do you no good! Once you have subscribed, all hope of ever
unsubscribing is gone! We will find you. Your email is now ours to
control. Your email box will fill to bursting with our messages.
And there is no hope for you. There is no good deed you can do to
change what you have done. The List will not be denied!"
And with that he released the newcomer who reeled and staggered towards
the door, gagging and stumbling. The dark man began to laugh, a low
rumbling laugh that grew louder. The newcomer fled up the streets as he
had come with the croaking bellowing laughter chasing him. He was
doomed...
and he knew it.
The dark man sat back at the table in the dimly lit bar and sipped at
his drink.
"I guess I could have just told him to go to
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/fairchildclub/ and use the one
click unsubscribe URL at the end of page", he muttered under his breath.
No, he smiled to himself. That would have been all too easy. Still
chuckling to himself, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the
magazine he had been reading before the newcomer interrupted him. He
quickly thumbed through the slick and edge worn pages until he found his
place. He never missed a single word of each and every issue of Martha
Stewart Living...
From: fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com
[mailto:fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com
]
On Behalf Of Bob Haas
Sent: Saturday, April 23, 2011 9:01 AM
To: fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com
Subject: [fairchildclub] Remove my email address
Gentlemen: I no longer want to receive email from the Fairchild
Club. Please remove email address Checkpoint2@comcast .net
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]'
From: fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com [mailto:fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com]
On Behalf Of Cy Galley
Sent: Saturday, April 23, 2011 9:18 AM
To: fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com
Subject: RE: [fairchildclub] Remove my email address
"The Unsubscribed"
The cold fog thickened noticeably as the newcomer hurried towards his
destination. He pulled his heavy overcoat around his neck a little more
tightly. This part of the city was not a place to tarry. Thieves and
whores were the only permanent residents here. Even the cops rolled
through these streets with a nervousness and an edge to heir normal
macho banter. Trouble and misery closed around everyone who ventured
into this pustule of urban blight like a leech on a warm vein.
"Damn!", he hissed under his breath as he stepped on something soft that
squealed and skittered off into the darkness and dankness of the mist.
It can't be much farther he thought. It mustn't be much farther.
The sickly yellow flicker of light from a street lamp shone dimly
through the fog as he quickened his pace.
There it was. The doorway seemed to be just blackness without
definition.
As he got closer, two winos eyed him suspiciously through bloodshot and
yellowed eyes. He hustled past them, their breath leaving a rank scent
that lingered on his clothes. The door pushed inward and the newcomer
was inside.
The room was smoky and dim. The bar stank of liquor and broken dreams.
Several tables decorated the periphery. The man he had come to see was
sitting at one of those tables and beckoned him over to sit. The man
was darkly clothed and utterly shapeless. He might have weighed three
hundred pounds... or he may have been only bone. His shape was
indecipherable. The dark mans eyes were gazing down at the dirty glass
in his hand, half filled with cheap whiskey. He had been reading a
glossy magazine filled with lurid and obscene images. He folded it
tenderly and stuffed it quickly into his coat pocket like a vulture
gobbling a rotten piece of flesh.
"What is it you want of me?", the dark man asked, not lifting his eyes
from the glass. His voice rumbled deep in his belly like a toad.
"I need you to tell me how to unsubscribe", said the newcomer in as even
a tone as he could muster.
The dark man looked up from his glass slowly to gaze at the newcomer.
His eyes were a pale watery blue. And his gaze lingered on the
newcomer.
"You wish to unsubscribe?", he said, with a hint of amusement in his
voice but no trace of a smile on his thick pasty lips. "You come to me
with a need to unsubscribe?", he said, his voice getting louder now and
any hint of amusement gone. He sucked in his breath and hissed through
his teeth spraying the newcomer with a repulsive mist of spittle, "Why?
Tell me why it is that you wish to unsubscribe."
The newcomer felt fear now creeping up his spine. "I don't have the
time to sort through all the posts", he mumbled.
The dark man sat unmoved, his eyes stared at the newcomer without
emotion. His eyes were cold and amphibian.
"And I sold the Fairchild and bought a Cirrus", added the newcomer.
He realized in a heart beat that he should not have said that. The dark
man had him by the throat with a quickness that seemed otherworldly.
And the dark man squeezed that throat as the newcomer wriggled and
squirmed in a voiceless scream. The dark man pulled the newcomers face
to his own until they nearly touched noses. He breathed his fetid
breath on the newcomer and a trickle of drool escaped his mouth to plop
loudly on the table between them.
"Go!", he rumbled. "Go now you fool!", he bellowed. "Run if you can.
It shall do you no good! Once you have subscribed, all hope of ever
unsubscribing is gone! We will find you. Your email is now ours to
control. Your email box will fill to bursting with our messages.
And there is no hope for you. There is no good deed you can do to
change what you have done. The List will not be denied!"
And with that he released the newcomer who reeled and staggered towards
the door, gagging and stumbling. The dark man began to laugh, a low
rumbling laugh that grew louder. The newcomer fled up the streets as he
had come with the croaking bellowing laughter chasing him. He was
doomed...
and he knew it.
The dark man sat back at the table in the dimly lit bar and sipped at
his drink.
"I guess I could have just told him to go to
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/fairchildclub/ and use the one
click unsubscribe URL at the end of page", he muttered under his breath.
No, he smiled to himself. That would have been all too easy. Still
chuckling to himself, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the
magazine he had been reading before the newcomer interrupted him. He
quickly thumbed through the slick and edge worn pages until he found his
place. He never missed a single word of each and every issue of Martha
Stewart Living...
From: fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com
[mailto:fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com
]
On Behalf Of Bob Haas
Sent: Saturday, April 23, 2011 9:01 AM
To: fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com
Subject: [fairchildclub] Remove my email address
Gentlemen: I no longer want to receive email from the Fairchild
Club. Please remove email address Checkpoint2@comcast .net
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]'
Re: Remove my email address
'That was beautiful Cy, you couldn't have written that! but maybe you did!! In that case well done, and you have rekindled something I have lost along the way. A good read. Thankyou.
Tom Mueller
Hanford,Ca.
Tom Mueller
Hanford,Ca.
'--- In fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com, "Bob Haas" wrote:
>
> Gentlemen: I no longer want to receive email from the Fairchild
> Club. Please remove email address Checkpoint2@comcast .net
>
>
>
> [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
>
Re: Remove my email address
'Beautiful.
From the bottom of this old group moderator's heart, I thank you.
Dan
From the bottom of this old group moderator's heart, I thank you.
Dan
'On Apr 23, 2011, at 8:17 AM, Cy Galley wrote:
> "The Unsubscribed"
>
>
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
-
Bill Johnson
- Posts: 14
- Joined: Mon Mar 16, 2009 11:01 am
Re: Remove my email address
'Thanks, Cy. That's a real piece of work.
Bill Johnson
WASP Museum PT-19
Avenger Field, TX
From: fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com
[mailto:fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com] On Behalf Of Cy Galley
Sent: Saturday, April 23, 2011 9:18 AM
To: fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com
Subject: RE: [fairchildclub] Remove my email address
"The Unsubscribed"
The cold fog thickened noticeably as the newcomer hurried towards his
destination. He pulled his heavy overcoat around his neck a little more
tightly. This part of the city was not a place to tarry. Thieves and
whores were the only permanent residents here. Even the cops rolled
through these streets with a nervousness and an edge to heir normal
macho banter. Trouble and misery closed around everyone who ventured
into this pustule of urban blight like a leech on a warm vein.
"Damn!", he hissed under his breath as he stepped on something soft that
squealed and skittered off into the darkness and dankness of the mist.
It can't be much farther he thought. It mustn't be much farther.
The sickly yellow flicker of light from a street lamp shone dimly
through the fog as he quickened his pace.
There it was. The doorway seemed to be just blackness without
definition.
As he got closer, two winos eyed him suspiciously through bloodshot and
yellowed eyes. He hustled past them, their breath leaving a rank scent
that lingered on his clothes. The door pushed inward and the newcomer
was inside.
The room was smoky and dim. The bar stank of liquor and broken dreams.
Several tables decorated the periphery. The man he had come to see was
sitting at one of those tables and beckoned him over to sit. The man
was darkly clothed and utterly shapeless. He might have weighed three
hundred pounds... or he may have been only bone. His shape was
indecipherable. The dark mans eyes were gazing down at the dirty glass
in his hand, half filled with cheap whiskey. He had been reading a
glossy magazine filled with lurid and obscene images. He folded it
tenderly and stuffed it quickly into his coat pocket like a vulture
gobbling a rotten piece of flesh.
"What is it you want of me?", the dark man asked, not lifting his eyes
from the glass. His voice rumbled deep in his belly like a toad.
"I need you to tell me how to unsubscribe", said the newcomer in as even
a tone as he could muster.
The dark man looked up from his glass slowly to gaze at the newcomer.
His eyes were a pale watery blue. And his gaze lingered on the
newcomer.
"You wish to unsubscribe?", he said, with a hint of amusement in his
voice but no trace of a smile on his thick pasty lips. "You come to me
with a need to unsubscribe?", he said, his voice getting louder now and
any hint of amusement gone. He sucked in his breath and hissed through
his teeth spraying the newcomer with a repulsive mist of spittle, "Why?
Tell me why it is that you wish to unsubscribe."
The newcomer felt fear now creeping up his spine. "I don't have the
time to sort through all the posts", he mumbled.
The dark man sat unmoved, his eyes stared at the newcomer without
emotion. His eyes were cold and amphibian.
"And I sold the Fairchild and bought a Cirrus", added the newcomer.
He realized in a heart beat that he should not have said that. The dark
man had him by the throat with a quickness that seemed otherworldly.
And the dark man squeezed that throat as the newcomer wriggled and
squirmed in a voiceless scream. The dark man pulled the newcomers face
to his own until they nearly touched noses. He breathed his fetid
breath on the newcomer and a trickle of drool escaped his mouth to plop
loudly on the table between them.
"Go!", he rumbled. "Go now you fool!", he bellowed. "Run if you can.
It shall do you no good! Once you have subscribed, all hope of ever
unsubscribing is gone! We will find you. Your email is now ours to
control. Your email box will fill to bursting with our messages.
And there is no hope for you. There is no good deed you can do to
change what you have done. The List will not be denied!"
And with that he released the newcomer who reeled and staggered towards
the door, gagging and stumbling. The dark man began to laugh, a low
rumbling laugh that grew louder. The newcomer fled up the streets as he
had come with the croaking bellowing laughter chasing him. He was
doomed...
and he knew it.
The dark man sat back at the table in the dimly lit bar and sipped at
his drink.
"I guess I could have just told him to go to
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/fairchildclub/ and use the one
click unsubscribe URL at the end of page", he muttered under his breath.
No, he smiled to himself. That would have been all too easy. Still
chuckling to himself, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the
magazine he had been reading before the newcomer interrupted him. He
quickly thumbed through the slick and edge worn pages until he found his
place. He never missed a single word of each and every issue of Martha
Stewart Living...
From: fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com
[mailto:fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com
]
On Behalf Of Bob Haas
Sent: Saturday, April 23, 2011 9:01 AM
To: fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com
Subject: [fairchildclub] Remove my email address
Gentlemen: I no longer want to receive email from the Fairchild
Club. Please remove email address Checkpoint2@comcast .net
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]'
Bill Johnson
WASP Museum PT-19
Avenger Field, TX
From: fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com
[mailto:fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com] On Behalf Of Cy Galley
Sent: Saturday, April 23, 2011 9:18 AM
To: fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com
Subject: RE: [fairchildclub] Remove my email address
"The Unsubscribed"
The cold fog thickened noticeably as the newcomer hurried towards his
destination. He pulled his heavy overcoat around his neck a little more
tightly. This part of the city was not a place to tarry. Thieves and
whores were the only permanent residents here. Even the cops rolled
through these streets with a nervousness and an edge to heir normal
macho banter. Trouble and misery closed around everyone who ventured
into this pustule of urban blight like a leech on a warm vein.
"Damn!", he hissed under his breath as he stepped on something soft that
squealed and skittered off into the darkness and dankness of the mist.
It can't be much farther he thought. It mustn't be much farther.
The sickly yellow flicker of light from a street lamp shone dimly
through the fog as he quickened his pace.
There it was. The doorway seemed to be just blackness without
definition.
As he got closer, two winos eyed him suspiciously through bloodshot and
yellowed eyes. He hustled past them, their breath leaving a rank scent
that lingered on his clothes. The door pushed inward and the newcomer
was inside.
The room was smoky and dim. The bar stank of liquor and broken dreams.
Several tables decorated the periphery. The man he had come to see was
sitting at one of those tables and beckoned him over to sit. The man
was darkly clothed and utterly shapeless. He might have weighed three
hundred pounds... or he may have been only bone. His shape was
indecipherable. The dark mans eyes were gazing down at the dirty glass
in his hand, half filled with cheap whiskey. He had been reading a
glossy magazine filled with lurid and obscene images. He folded it
tenderly and stuffed it quickly into his coat pocket like a vulture
gobbling a rotten piece of flesh.
"What is it you want of me?", the dark man asked, not lifting his eyes
from the glass. His voice rumbled deep in his belly like a toad.
"I need you to tell me how to unsubscribe", said the newcomer in as even
a tone as he could muster.
The dark man looked up from his glass slowly to gaze at the newcomer.
His eyes were a pale watery blue. And his gaze lingered on the
newcomer.
"You wish to unsubscribe?", he said, with a hint of amusement in his
voice but no trace of a smile on his thick pasty lips. "You come to me
with a need to unsubscribe?", he said, his voice getting louder now and
any hint of amusement gone. He sucked in his breath and hissed through
his teeth spraying the newcomer with a repulsive mist of spittle, "Why?
Tell me why it is that you wish to unsubscribe."
The newcomer felt fear now creeping up his spine. "I don't have the
time to sort through all the posts", he mumbled.
The dark man sat unmoved, his eyes stared at the newcomer without
emotion. His eyes were cold and amphibian.
"And I sold the Fairchild and bought a Cirrus", added the newcomer.
He realized in a heart beat that he should not have said that. The dark
man had him by the throat with a quickness that seemed otherworldly.
And the dark man squeezed that throat as the newcomer wriggled and
squirmed in a voiceless scream. The dark man pulled the newcomers face
to his own until they nearly touched noses. He breathed his fetid
breath on the newcomer and a trickle of drool escaped his mouth to plop
loudly on the table between them.
"Go!", he rumbled. "Go now you fool!", he bellowed. "Run if you can.
It shall do you no good! Once you have subscribed, all hope of ever
unsubscribing is gone! We will find you. Your email is now ours to
control. Your email box will fill to bursting with our messages.
And there is no hope for you. There is no good deed you can do to
change what you have done. The List will not be denied!"
And with that he released the newcomer who reeled and staggered towards
the door, gagging and stumbling. The dark man began to laugh, a low
rumbling laugh that grew louder. The newcomer fled up the streets as he
had come with the croaking bellowing laughter chasing him. He was
doomed...
and he knew it.
The dark man sat back at the table in the dimly lit bar and sipped at
his drink.
"I guess I could have just told him to go to
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/fairchildclub/ and use the one
click unsubscribe URL at the end of page", he muttered under his breath.
No, he smiled to himself. That would have been all too easy. Still
chuckling to himself, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the
magazine he had been reading before the newcomer interrupted him. He
quickly thumbed through the slick and edge worn pages until he found his
place. He never missed a single word of each and every issue of Martha
Stewart Living...
From: fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com
[mailto:fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com
]
On Behalf Of Bob Haas
Sent: Saturday, April 23, 2011 9:01 AM
To: fairchildclub@yahoogroups.com
Subject: [fairchildclub] Remove my email address
Gentlemen: I no longer want to receive email from the Fairchild
Club. Please remove email address Checkpoint2@comcast .net
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]'