Birthday Biff

[tree_]

Is a happy Biff? I sure hope so.

[tree_]

[tree_]

oh wow

an exhaustive search of the internet website www.Google.com has led me to the knowledge that Biff Pocoroba's birthday is July 25. I wonder if our RM user who has taken the name has taken the name because he shares a birthday with the late (RIP) all-star catcher, or if he simply claimed the same birthday as him, to fully immerse himself into character, so to speak. And in which case I wonder when Biff's actually birthday is? I hope it's today.

[JuanHamm]

Or maybe the baseball player was the first man to upload his conscious onto the Internet

[JuanHamm]

Also happy birthday

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[dad]

what if doug is actually doug drabek?

[Anders]

Happy birthday!

[spike]

what if doug is actually doug drabek?

haha, I feel like we’ve done this bit already.

[dad]

what if doug is actually doug drabek?

haha, I feel like we’ve done this bit already.

we've not done it nearly enough.

Happy Birthday, Biff!

[VinylGuy]

[knee tunes]

Happy Birthday Biffster!

[knee tunes]

what if it's actually Biff Pocoroba

[doug rr]

what if doug is actually doug drabek?

haha, I feel like we’ve done this bit already.

i'm andy van slake..

hb biff

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[doug rr]

i'm guessing a park and a pool party with friends...or he flew to new orleans

[Biff Pocoroba]

Thanks guys.

[tree_]

Do you share a birthday with the ball player? Are you the deceased ball player?

[Biff Pocoroba]

July 25 is my real birthday.
Grew up in the Atlanta area so I definitely was aware of the baseball player. I remember thinking he had an odd, funny sounding name as a kid so when I was trying to come up with a new handle when the board reset several years back I decided to go with that. Sharing a birthday was a happy coincidence.
I even got a taste of my RM obituary when the real Biff Pocoroba died a couple years died. I got to use the “reports of death have been greatly exaggerated” line.

[tree_]

Hot damn