Phaezen
Adventurer
It's what I am doing at the moment. It is not my job. And I am hating it
.Unfortunately, the lady who was doing the datacapturing noticed that indeed datacapturing was not in her job description and is refusing to do it.
Hive: The Story stops but it never ends
- Thread starter megamania
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It's what I am doing at the moment. It is not my job. And I am hating it
.Unfortunately, the lady who was doing the datacapturing noticed that indeed datacapturing was not in her job description and is refusing to do it.
In about 30-45 minutes. I only check my email once ever day or every other day. I do look forward to getting your email though.
Blackrat
He Who Lurks Beyond The Veil
Wow... Poe wrote about R'lyeh too:
Lo! Death has reared himself a throne
In a strange city lying alone
Far down within the dim West,
Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best
Have gone to their eternal rest.
There shrines and palaces and towers
(Time-eaten towers that tremble not!)
Resemble nothing that is ours.
Around, by lifting winds forgot,
Resignedly beneath the sky
The melancholy waters lie.
No rays from the holy heaven come down
On the long night-time of that town;
But light from out the lurid sea
Streams up the turrets silently-
Gleams up the pinnacles far and free-
Up domes- up spires- up kingly halls-
Up fanes- up Babylon-like walls-
Up shadowy long-forgotten bowers
Of sculptured ivy and stone flowers-
Up many and many a marvellous shrine
Whose wreathed friezes intertwine
The viol, the violet, and the vine.
Resignedly beneath the sky
The melancholy waters lie.
So blend the turrets and shadows there
That all seem pendulous in air,
While from a proud tower in the town
Death looks gigantically down.
There open fanes and gaping graves
Yawn level with the luminous waves;
But not the riches there that lie
In each idol's diamond eye-
Not the gaily-jewelled dead
Tempt the waters from their bed;
For no ripples curl, alas!
Along that wilderness of glass-
No swellings tell that winds may be
Upon some far-off happier sea-
No heavings hint that winds have been
On seas less hideously serene.
But lo, a stir is in the air!
The wave- there is a movement there!
As if the towers had thrust aside,
In slightly sinking, the dull tide-
As if their tops had feebly given
A void within the filmy Heaven.
The waves have now a redder glow-
The hours are breathing faint and low-
And when, amid no earthly moans,
Down, down that town shall settle hence,
Hell, rising from a thousand thrones,
Shall do it reverence.
Lo! Death has reared himself a throne
In a strange city lying alone
Far down within the dim West,
Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best
Have gone to their eternal rest.
There shrines and palaces and towers
(Time-eaten towers that tremble not!)
Resemble nothing that is ours.
Around, by lifting winds forgot,
Resignedly beneath the sky
The melancholy waters lie.
No rays from the holy heaven come down
On the long night-time of that town;
But light from out the lurid sea
Streams up the turrets silently-
Gleams up the pinnacles far and free-
Up domes- up spires- up kingly halls-
Up fanes- up Babylon-like walls-
Up shadowy long-forgotten bowers
Of sculptured ivy and stone flowers-
Up many and many a marvellous shrine
Whose wreathed friezes intertwine
The viol, the violet, and the vine.
Resignedly beneath the sky
The melancholy waters lie.
So blend the turrets and shadows there
That all seem pendulous in air,
While from a proud tower in the town
Death looks gigantically down.
There open fanes and gaping graves
Yawn level with the luminous waves;
But not the riches there that lie
In each idol's diamond eye-
Not the gaily-jewelled dead
Tempt the waters from their bed;
For no ripples curl, alas!
Along that wilderness of glass-
No swellings tell that winds may be
Upon some far-off happier sea-
No heavings hint that winds have been
On seas less hideously serene.
But lo, a stir is in the air!
The wave- there is a movement there!
As if the towers had thrust aside,
In slightly sinking, the dull tide-
As if their tops had feebly given
A void within the filmy Heaven.
The waves have now a redder glow-
The hours are breathing faint and low-
And when, amid no earthly moans,
Down, down that town shall settle hence,
Hell, rising from a thousand thrones,
Shall do it reverence.
Aeson
I am the mysterious professor.
Well you may have something to check on.
I check several times a day. Email is the prefered way my gaming group communicates between games. I check my work email all the time. I even wake up in the middle of the day to check it on my cell phone.
Sounds like it was taken from 'Puff the Magic Dragon'.
Aeson
I am the mysterious professor.
Phaezen
Adventurer
Not all that difficult really. Take what is on the piece of paper and put it onto the computer. Depending on the data (supplier invoices in this case) it can be mind numbingly dull.
Blackrat
He Who Lurks Beyond The Veil
...
Aeson
I am the mysterious professor.
Not all that difficult really. Take what is on the piece of paper and put it onto the computer. Depending on the data (supplier invoices in this case) it can be mind numbingly dull.
But we would have to go to South Africa. I'm afraid it would take more than pizza and sushi. You'd have to promise women that look like Charlize Theron.
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