SI
SI
discoversearch

We've detected that you're using an ad content blocking browser plug-in or feature. Ads provide a critical source of revenue to the continued operation of Silicon Investor.  We ask that you disable ad blocking while on Silicon Investor in the best interests of our community.  If you are not using an ad blocker but are still receiving this message, make sure your browser's tracking protection is set to the 'standard' level.
Gold/Mining/Energy : Gold and Silver Juniors, Mid-tiers and Producers -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?


To: AuBug who wrote (61415)10/2/2008 1:39:00 PM
From: E. Charters  Read Replies (1) | Respond to of 78418
 
Well at least they don't grind the core up completely in a lab built by a stockholder.

Funny, they used to buy placer gold off me. Don't suppose that means anything. I also sold them a shotgun and some aqua regia. Hmmm.....

We should demand a recount and see if all their chits are punched out.

The real Cove-McCoy

The sergeant was sitting at the recruiting desk with a line of raw recruits in front of him. 'Next' he said 'Name?’ 'I'm McCoy Sir' said a likely lad. 'What did you do in civvy street son?' said the sergeant. 'I worked in a bottling factory Sir and my job was to stuff the corks into the bottles'. 'What do you call that occupation son?' said the sergeant'. 'That's what is called a Cork Stuffer Sir' said the lad. 'Right' said the sergeant writing it down. 'Next.... Name?' 'I'm McCoy Sir' said another likely lad. 'Heck, two McCoys' said the sergeant. 'What did you do in civvy street son?'. 'I worked in a coke works Sir and my job was to stoke the lumps of coke into the furnace, Sir'. 'What do you call that occupation son?' said the sergeant. 'That's what is called a Coke Stoker Sir' said the lad. 'Right' said the sergeant writing it down. 'Next....Name?' 'I'm McCoy Sir' said another likely lad. 'Heck, three McCoys, what did you do in civvy street son?' 'I worked in a menswear store Sir and my job was to tuck the socks into their plastic containers Sir'. 'What do you call that occupation son?' said the sergeant. 'That's what is called a Sock Tucker Sir' said the lad. 'Right' said the sergeant writing it down. 'Next....Name?' 'I'm McCoy Sir' said another likely lad. 'Heck, four McCoys' said the sergeant. 'What did you do in civvy street son?' 'I worked in a clock store Sir and my job was to stack the clocks on the shelves'. 'What do you call that occupation son?' said the sergeant. 'That's what is called a Clock Stacker Sir' said the lad. 'Right' said the sergeant writing it down. 'Next....Name?' 'I'm McCoy Sir' said another likely lad. 'I can't believe this; five McCoys!' said the sergeant. 'What did you do in civvy street son?' 'I worked in a Steggles Chicken Factory Sir and my job was to cut the throats of the roosters and soak all the blood out so they wouldn't bleed in the bag, Sir'. 'What do you call that occupation son?' said the sergeant. 'That's what is called a Cock Soaker Sir' said the lad. 'Right' said the sergeant writing it down. 'Next....Name?' 'I'm McCoy Sir' said another likely lad. 'This is incredible, six McCoys!' said the sergeant. 'You wouldn't by the remotest chance be a cork stuffer, a coke stoker, a sock tucker, a clock stacker or a cock soaker would you son?' 'No' said the comely lad fluttering his long black eyelashes. 'I'm the Real Cove-McCoy, give us a kiss!

EC<:-}