There I was, fishing rod in hand, edging ever so slowly on my stomach (thereby practising extreme reptation) towards a hole in the ice expertly sawn by my Inuit blood-brother using his narrow kerf chain saw (what else?), when I thought that I heard an imposing inukshuk cairn address me, Cassandra-like, cautioning 'Your blubbery embonpoint cannot well be borne, for the ice is wafer thin and thawing fast'; but I scoffed at the very notion, and so here I am, with sea-nymphs hourly ringing my knell, and I'm wet and hysterical withal.

(by Et Seqq)

"I won't be in adoring reptation at your feet, nor will I contribute a single kerf to the construction of an Inukshuk that deifies you, for although you are a remarkably accurate Cassandra, I prefer to ignore the doomsayers like you, even if they are right, and to throw my lot in with the optimists, even if they are wrong." (by Sami)