-
Sign up or login, and you'll have full access to opportunities of forum.
Now This Just Isn't Funny
- Thread starter admihoek
- Start date
Velut Luna
Sibilla Cumana
Oh Great Equine Oracle, will California Chrome win the Triple Crown tomorrow?
Please hurry, betting windows close in about 22 hours.
Abii, cucurri, vici non, mala tempora!
the right Oracle of the Great Equine Oracle!!
Abii = I went
cucurri = I ran
vici = I won
non = not
mala = bad
tempora = times
I went, I run, I won not, bad times! (only fourth)
Last edited:
Fox-on-Cross
Great-Cruxinquisitor
Abii ( Perfectum)= I went
In other languages the perfect-conjugation, auxiliary + past participle.
Idem dito for the others.
In other languages the perfect-conjugation, auxiliary + past participle.
Idem dito for the others.
?recte lege 'male tempore' 'in time' ?
(ablative sg of time)
The trick is (as Luna's patiently explained to me),
you can read the oracle two ways.
It could read Abii, cucurri, vici - non male tempore
'I went I ran, I won - not bad time'
or (as it turned out for Naraku)
Abii, cucurri, vici non - male tempore
'I went, I ran, I didn't win - bad time'
(ablative sg of time)
The trick is (as Luna's patiently explained to me),
you can read the oracle two ways.
It could read Abii, cucurri, vici - non male tempore
'I went I ran, I won - not bad time'
or (as it turned out for Naraku)
Abii, cucurri, vici non - male tempore
'I went, I ran, I didn't win - bad time'
Fox-on-Cross
Great-Cruxinquisitor
That is the famous 2500-years old Oracle Delphi sentence:
Conquer not die!
A king red this as conquer, not die but later the reality is conquer not, die!
Conquer not die!
A king red this as conquer, not die but later the reality is conquer not, die!
Fox-on-Cross
Great-Cruxinquisitor
In addition, the Greek had crucifixion too, I believe more sitting on a stump. where in made a sort of chair, hand and feet nailed.
yes, the Sybil's prophecies were always ambiguous
(makes you wonder why they wasted time and money asking her!
)
Luna's unveiled to me the mystery of mala tempora -
apparently it's an allusion to a phrase of Cicero, mala tempora currunt
"bad times are a-rolling",
so we can read the prophecy as either:
'I went, I ran, I won not (hard times!
)'
or:
'I went, I ran, I won' (not such bad times!
)'
(makes you wonder why they wasted time and money asking her!
)Luna's unveiled to me the mystery of mala tempora -
apparently it's an allusion to a phrase of Cicero, mala tempora currunt
"bad times are a-rolling",
so we can read the prophecy as either:
'I went, I ran, I won not (hard times!
)'or:
'I went, I ran, I won' (not such bad times!
)'
lithos1
Assistant executioner
About the ambiguity of the Oracle:
A young man, just more than a boy, should leave for the war; then, he, with his parents, went to the Oracle (the Sibilla Cumana, if I remember well), and, after paying a generous amount of money, asked about his future... the response was:
"Ibis in bello, morieris non, reverteris" (You'll go in War, you will not die, you'll be back).
But the man died, so his parent went to the Sibilla asking back the money, but the Oracle said:
It happened just like I said: "Ibis in bello, morieris, non reverteris" (You'll go in War, you will die, you'll not be back)...
Well... just the position of a comma...
A young man, just more than a boy, should leave for the war; then, he, with his parents, went to the Oracle (the Sibilla Cumana, if I remember well), and, after paying a generous amount of money, asked about his future... the response was:
"Ibis in bello, morieris non, reverteris" (You'll go in War, you will not die, you'll be back).
But the man died, so his parent went to the Sibilla asking back the money, but the Oracle said:
It happened just like I said: "Ibis in bello, morieris, non reverteris" (You'll go in War, you will die, you'll not be back)...
Well... just the position of a comma...
Fox-on-Cross
Great-Cruxinquisitor
The famous Quo vadis? is also his. Cicero knows Cato maior very good. He once a time citates Cato but the origin has lost. Thanks to Cirero the sentence is conserved.
Last edited:
actually Quo vadis is from a Christian source,
the apocryphal Acts of Peter -
Peter fleeing from Rome meets Christ on the road and asks 'Quo vadis, Domine?'
Jesus says 'I'm going to Rome to be crucified again',
so Peter takes the hint and goes back to face martyrdom.
(but this just isn't funny - someone post a joke, please
)
the apocryphal Acts of Peter -
Peter fleeing from Rome meets Christ on the road and asks 'Quo vadis, Domine?'
Jesus says 'I'm going to Rome to be crucified again',
so Peter takes the hint and goes back to face martyrdom.
(but this just isn't funny - someone post a joke, please
)
(but this just isn't funny - someone post a joke, please
A senator was 15 minutes late for one of Cicero's speeches.
He crept in to the back, and hissed to the senator sitting next to him, "What's he talking about?"
"I don't know," came the reply, "He hasn't got to a verb yet!"
RacingRodent
Consul
This article has it all, an American in Germany, getting stuck in a stone vagina
you really can't make this stuff up
you really can't make this stuff up
mymartinet
R.I.P. Dominus Flagelli
This is the only place ican post this. Its not funny , but it is so apt
Last edited by a moderator:
Gladiator
a Terrible Tale from Ancient Rome
As the mighty Nubian slave watched what was going on out there on the sand,
the beautiful young Christian martyr being stripped, shown the dreadful impaling spike,
spreadeagled on the sand ready for her martyrdom
he felt uneasy, quite sick at the idea of what he had to do.
He was trained to fight strong men, he'd triumphed in yesterday's contests,
but this - oh this - was too dreadful to imagine.
But he knew all too well the price of disobedience.
Now the buxom body was penetrated by the spit,
laid on the fire-irons, turned slowly above the fire,
her slow, hideous agony was beginning.
With a sigh, the invincible warrior strode out into the blazing sun,
wielding his mighty, razor-keen sword.
The crowd - primed to expect something new, something sensational -
roared in excited expectation.
He stood by the slowly turning, still living, still softly moaning, specimen of perfect girlhood,
saw the sweat and grease oozing from her flesh, sizzling on the fire,
the redness of her soft breasts and buttocks, slowly roasting as they felt the flames.
Suppressing his reluctance, he raised his sword, swung it through the smoky air,
sliced a whole steak from the victim's rump. He held it in the fire a few moments,
then began to eat. Reluctant as he was, he had to admit, it tasted good.
He took another slice, and another - the third from her breast.
The crowd were howling with glee, urging him on,
hands waved with thumbs up all around the Colosseum,
expressing delight at the luscious spectacle their Emperor had provided for them.
Nero threw a bag of golden coins to the Nubian giant,
along with a free slavegirl voucher redeemable at the Forum,
and granted him his freedom forthwith.
The Nubian looked at the still-twitching carcass of girlflesh -
boy, was he gladiator!
a Terrible Tale from Ancient Rome
As the mighty Nubian slave watched what was going on out there on the sand,
the beautiful young Christian martyr being stripped, shown the dreadful impaling spike,
spreadeagled on the sand ready for her martyrdom
he felt uneasy, quite sick at the idea of what he had to do.
He was trained to fight strong men, he'd triumphed in yesterday's contests,
but this - oh this - was too dreadful to imagine.
But he knew all too well the price of disobedience.
Now the buxom body was penetrated by the spit,
laid on the fire-irons, turned slowly above the fire,
her slow, hideous agony was beginning.
With a sigh, the invincible warrior strode out into the blazing sun,
wielding his mighty, razor-keen sword.
The crowd - primed to expect something new, something sensational -
roared in excited expectation.
He stood by the slowly turning, still living, still softly moaning, specimen of perfect girlhood,
saw the sweat and grease oozing from her flesh, sizzling on the fire,
the redness of her soft breasts and buttocks, slowly roasting as they felt the flames.
Suppressing his reluctance, he raised his sword, swung it through the smoky air,
sliced a whole steak from the victim's rump. He held it in the fire a few moments,
then began to eat. Reluctant as he was, he had to admit, it tasted good.
He took another slice, and another - the third from her breast.
The crowd were howling with glee, urging him on,
hands waved with thumbs up all around the Colosseum,
expressing delight at the luscious spectacle their Emperor had provided for them.
Nero threw a bag of golden coins to the Nubian giant,
along with a free slavegirl voucher redeemable at the Forum,
and granted him his freedom forthwith.
The Nubian looked at the still-twitching carcass of girlflesh -
boy, was he gladiator!
Last edited:
Gladiator
a Terrible Tale from ancient Rome
As the mighty Nubian slave watched what was going on out there on the sand,
the beautiful young Christian martyr being stripped, shown the dreadful impaling spike,
spreadeagled on the sand ready for her martyrdom
he felt uneasy, quite sick at the idea of what he had to do.
He was trained to fight strong men, he'd triumphed in yesterday's contests,
but this - oh this - was too dreadful to imagine.
But he knew all too well the price of disobedience.
Now the buxom body was penetrated by the spit,
laid on the fire-irons, turned slowly above the fire,
her slow, hideous agony was beginning.
With a sigh, the invincible warrior strode out into the blazing sun,
wielding his mighty, razor-keen sword.
The crowd - primed to expect something new, something sensational -
roared in excited expectation.
He stood by the slowly turning, still living, still softly moaning, specimen of perfect girlhood,
saw the sweat and grease oozing from her flesh, sizzling on the fire,
the redness of her soft breasts and buttocks, slowly roasting as they felt the flames.
Suppressing his reluctance, he raised his sword, swung it through the smoky air,
sliced a whole steak from the victim's rump. He held it in the fire a few moments,
then began to eat. Reluctant as he was, he had to admit, it tasted good.
He took another slice, and another - the third from her breast.
The crowd were howling with glee, urging him on,
hands waved with thumbs up all around the Colosseum,
expressing delight at the luscious spectacle their Emperor had provided for them.
Nero threw a bag of golden coins to the Nubian giant,
along with a free slavegirl voucher redeemable at the Forum,
and granted him his freedom forthwith.
The Nubian looked at the still-twitching carcass of girlflesh -
boy, was he gladiator!
And that, Ladies and Gentlemen, is how to do a 'shaggy dog' story!
KvK
Tribune
There were two shapely college seniors, both 21, one a blonde, the other a brunette doing a summer internship at a firm. The work was boring and tedious, and being the lowest persons on the totem pole, they got all the little scat tasks that no one else wanted to do.
They were working late one night and decided to relieve the tension a bit by smoking the reefer. They thought everyone else had gone home.
They were wrong. The boss, a voluptuous redhead in her forties was still there. She surreptitiously filmed the college girls smoking the reefer.
The next day, the boss called the college girl into her office and asked them to be seated. The plasma screen behind the boss came on with the cellphone footage of them smoking the reefer. Now sober, both college girls were petrified.
"As you well know, this company has a zero tolerance policy regarding drug use. Your internships are over and you can forget about any letters of recommendation. The only question left is whether or not I should tell the college and the police..."
Panicking so much that she did not think to rationalise that the police and district attorney would never waste time and taxpayer money prosecuting someone who had only been filmed smoking the reefer, with the physical evidence long gone, the blonde started to plead plaintively. The brunette soon joined her.
"There is nothing I can do." replied the boss, "Company policy is quite clear. If I don't report you, our insurance rates will go up and the company's name could be damaged."
More plaintive pleading ensued, this time interspersed with promises to do anything if the boss did not report them.
The boss thought it over. After a lengthy pause, lengthy by design so as to prolong the college girls' anguish, the boss finally responded.
"OK...the company has a warehouse downtown that we are looking to sell. It needs to be cleaned up. Meet me there Saturday morning at 7.00 and we'll clean it up."
The college girls were somewhat creeped out by this. The boss had a reputation for being a perv, a voracious perv at that. But in the end, they both rationalised that what the boss had in store for them was still better than the ruin of any chance of a professional life, of a livelihood should the boss exercise the first option she chose.
Come Saturday morning at 8.00, the college girls had a different idea. They were at the warehouse. At the orders of the boss, they had both stripped themselves completely naked, after which the boss, clad only in a corset and thigh-high latex boots, had brusquely and humiliatingly searched their cavities. The boss had then made the college girls fist both of each other's lower orifices. Now, both the college girls were tied spread-eagled to Saint Andrew's Crosses. The boss held a hydraulic control box in her and and was about to raise the crosses.
"Pleeeeeeeeeeease!" begged the blonde, "Please don't crucify me! I can't take it."
"Fucking pussy bitch!" called out the brunette in anger at her friend's cowardice.
"C'mon, now!" responded the boss, "It's this or the cops..."
"Pleeeeease!" went on the blonde. "I'm a human being! So are you! Don't you have any human feelings?"
"Well...I am open for suggestions...what do you propose I do?"
"I don't know...anything...just don't crucify me..."
"Hmmm....seems like I heard this before....seems like a pattern with you...oh, well, if that's the way you want it...you'll do anything?"
"Anything!"
"Okaaaay..."
The boss set down the hydraulic control box and walked over to the lowered Saint Andrew's Cross on which the blonde was bound and stretched out. Then her cruel, methodical fingers immediately set to work, mercilessly tickling the blonde's ribcage, before migrating to other areas.
"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHH! FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK! I'm TICKLIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISH!" screamed the blonde.
"If you can't take it, you have a safe word...well a safe phrase, actually," responded the boss. "That safe phrase is 'I dare you to crucify me, boss bitch!' "
They were working late one night and decided to relieve the tension a bit by smoking the reefer. They thought everyone else had gone home.
They were wrong. The boss, a voluptuous redhead in her forties was still there. She surreptitiously filmed the college girls smoking the reefer.
The next day, the boss called the college girl into her office and asked them to be seated. The plasma screen behind the boss came on with the cellphone footage of them smoking the reefer. Now sober, both college girls were petrified.
"As you well know, this company has a zero tolerance policy regarding drug use. Your internships are over and you can forget about any letters of recommendation. The only question left is whether or not I should tell the college and the police..."
Panicking so much that she did not think to rationalise that the police and district attorney would never waste time and taxpayer money prosecuting someone who had only been filmed smoking the reefer, with the physical evidence long gone, the blonde started to plead plaintively. The brunette soon joined her.
"There is nothing I can do." replied the boss, "Company policy is quite clear. If I don't report you, our insurance rates will go up and the company's name could be damaged."
More plaintive pleading ensued, this time interspersed with promises to do anything if the boss did not report them.
The boss thought it over. After a lengthy pause, lengthy by design so as to prolong the college girls' anguish, the boss finally responded.
"OK...the company has a warehouse downtown that we are looking to sell. It needs to be cleaned up. Meet me there Saturday morning at 7.00 and we'll clean it up."
The college girls were somewhat creeped out by this. The boss had a reputation for being a perv, a voracious perv at that. But in the end, they both rationalised that what the boss had in store for them was still better than the ruin of any chance of a professional life, of a livelihood should the boss exercise the first option she chose.
Come Saturday morning at 8.00, the college girls had a different idea. They were at the warehouse. At the orders of the boss, they had both stripped themselves completely naked, after which the boss, clad only in a corset and thigh-high latex boots, had brusquely and humiliatingly searched their cavities. The boss had then made the college girls fist both of each other's lower orifices. Now, both the college girls were tied spread-eagled to Saint Andrew's Crosses. The boss held a hydraulic control box in her and and was about to raise the crosses.
"Pleeeeeeeeeeease!" begged the blonde, "Please don't crucify me! I can't take it."
"Fucking pussy bitch!" called out the brunette in anger at her friend's cowardice.
"C'mon, now!" responded the boss, "It's this or the cops..."
"Pleeeeease!" went on the blonde. "I'm a human being! So are you! Don't you have any human feelings?"
"Well...I am open for suggestions...what do you propose I do?"
"I don't know...anything...just don't crucify me..."
"Hmmm....seems like I heard this before....seems like a pattern with you...oh, well, if that's the way you want it...you'll do anything?"
"Anything!"
"Okaaaay..."
The boss set down the hydraulic control box and walked over to the lowered Saint Andrew's Cross on which the blonde was bound and stretched out. Then her cruel, methodical fingers immediately set to work, mercilessly tickling the blonde's ribcage, before migrating to other areas.
"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHH! FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK! I'm TICKLIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISH!" screamed the blonde.
"If you can't take it, you have a safe word...well a safe phrase, actually," responded the boss. "That safe phrase is 'I dare you to crucify me, boss bitch!' "