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How I Got My Screen Name


ArtCrafter

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That's right, got. (Not chose...)

You see, I've lately been involved in a certain form of what you might call Reeducation that includes -- Among other...um...Things -- what you again might call Group Activities.

Anyhow, the doctor -- Coersion Correction: The Director -- had me in his bomb-proof, barbed-wired office the other day for one of those little, you know.........Tests.

(THEY are always trying...NEVER forget that...)

So anyway, The Doc -- That's what us Kids call him...Come to think of it, that's what he calls.........Us: The Kids. (***HAR!***) -- he up ask asks, you know, like it plumb fell outta the clear blue sky and landed on his noggin or something, he says for Us to look at this here picture, then tell him what it looks like:

RuBRooMTeSTV20.jpg

The Test

Heck, I thought that was a real easy one.

After all, I grew up Out West (Way, WAY out...), and some of Us have oversize heads and wear Really Big Hats to match, so, just like it was the title of a dog-eared book -- Which if it isn't, it dang well should be -- we right natural like says, "An Aerial View Of A Cowboy On A Bicycle."

Well, you'da thought Ol' Doc busted a gut or something, but when he recovered from gaggin' and a' spittin' sparks, not to mention wheezing like an ol' bibelot barnyard tomcat, and then the very second he started turnin' back from plum purple to his 'normal' and totally rad shade of red, he just kinda points, sorta slow and silent like, at the prehistoric parchment pinned, as it was (not were), to the dad-blamed wall by the busted off blade of a scalpel that some soulless savage had gone and stuck square through center.

WHE-E-E-EWWWEEE !!!

I'll tell you, Pard, when I eyed the University Of Texas emblazoned upon it, I knew my goose was cooked, and Well-Done to boot.

The Wild, Wild West is one thing, but no one, and I mean Nobody, Messes With Texas.

Or so I've been told. Repeatedly.

Quick and lazy as greazy lightning skirting across a surly, sullen sky, I was summarily sentenced to 48 slapdash hours of slovenly solitude in what us Kids cordially call The Shop.

(You know, if it hadn't been for the lamentable, loathsome lonesomeness of that dad-burned, doggone dungeon, it really wasn't half bad...)

I'll tell you, Pard...um...also, that Ol' Shop certainly was Post-Modern, plus it was fabulously and fancifully fully-equipped -- Up to, and including, padded 'safety' construction, plus super comfy foam furniture with little horseys all over.........It.

(I always thought last little bit that was a really nice.........touch.)

Anyhow, we had all our 'classes' in there, or so it seems, including Arts & Crafts, in which, of course, we were the typical (if somewhat sui generis), devout and disinterested, yet stilly dedicated Art Student.

Notice that also has three syllables. Why, you ask? Why, that's gotta be Them again, that's why.

So, the last time (***Mmmuuuuuuuuuahaha!***) They let me out, and They sees what we got in our hand, They says, "You shall henceforth call yourself 'ArtCrafter In Threes, AC, AC, AC'."

Now, I'm not much for recidivism -- Much less Déjà vu or Dirigibles...In case you hadn't noticed, that is... -- so I tossed the tryptichal triseme as soon as I busted out of the joint, played three quick cuts -- But then, Who's counting??? -- from Tres Hombres as I speedily and stealthily whispered three Hail Coopers, and at long last hustled on down to The Handgunner's Holey Temple of the Triumvirate: Cooper, Keith, and Skelton and took.........cover.

End of story.

PS: Not quite. One of my eyeglass frames happens to have been made by the firm ArtCraft, during, I believe, the last Ice Age, which in turn means I'm a confirmed geek. :sick: That's γεεκ to me, of course. Who'da thunk it???

DMTnNeon.jpg

Important Public Service Circus Announcement

Or, as Herr Direktor used to say, "Class dismissed!"

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  • 3 weeks later...

Funny though, I did not choose my screen name, either.

See, I am from Germany, i.e. German.

It all started when a certain someone here in Houston started telling everyone at the local matches that I was not really German.

"Oh, THAT is Roman. He is Amish."

I guess my accent did not help.

It did not take long (read: a couple weeks) before I was referred to as "Team Amish".

A few weeks later, I received a mysterious envelope from out of state. In it was a letter congratulating me on my team membership and, wait for it, A MEMBERSHIP CARD. :roflol:

I was told that a few more people received a membership card and that there may be close to 10 members now.

Anyways, thought I'd share that. Your reading glasses story is definitely different, though...

post-16271-127483879323_thumb.jpg

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Funny though, I did not choose my screen name, either.

See, I am from Germany, i.e. German.

It all started when a certain someone here in Houston started telling everyone at the local matches that I was not really German.

"Oh, THAT is Roman. He is Amish."

I guess my accent did not help.

It did not take long (read: a couple weeks) before I was referred to as "Team Amish".

A few weeks later, I received a mysterious envelope from out of state. In it was a letter congratulating me on my team membership and, wait for it, A MEMBERSHIP CARD. :roflol:

I was told that a few more people received a membership card and that there may be close to 10 members now.

Anyways, thought I'd share that. Your reading glasses story is definitely different, though...

Us Dwarves are German as well! Just check out my last name on my profile!

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LoL Seth, probably just added to the confusion. His first one was a real zinger!

ETA: No offense to Mr. Art Crafter intended of course.

Edited by kgunz11
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For those of you who don't get it, This should clear it up:

That was plain silly. <_<

This classifier-video will shed some light. ;)

Touche, sir. Well played.

Yeah, got it off a Practical Shooting website.

I am surprised how few people know about it.

Their loss, our gain...

B)

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