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General Category => Huh? => Topic started by: Pigmeat on July 05, 2019, 2223 UTC
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I was told Pat Murphy aka Commander Bunny aka Bill O. Rights, born Jerry M. Graves, was dying of "terminal cancer", by three of his cronies, leprechaun, a gnome, and a regular looking guy while they were grilling me about your "real" name at a cookout. As the Virginia Bunnyman had told me he was "dying of terminal cancer" some five years before on the phone when he'd got himself into a mess, I wasn't buying what they were selling that fifth of July, but I played along.
This afternoon while recalling the incident, it struck me we should track this Jerry Graves/Pat Murphy character down and extract some of his DNA. Big Pharma would pay big bucks for something like that. I know he's not at the Smith Mountain Lake Hutch, he's scared of snakes. (Why I don't know? He is one.) Perhaps while we're at it, we can probe his brain and find out what motivates him to turn in other pirates to the authorities for no earthly reason? Is it the shadow of the Almighty Radio Bob
lurking in his past or was he crazy as a March Hare long before Bob stumbled into his sights? There are effective medications for paranoia these days, perhaps he should see a shrink?
He was a strange old coot.
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Why do you keep bringing this nonsense up??? You must be infatuated with Pat Murphy lol! Let it go comrade. Either that or have your meds changed.
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Ten years ago? Hard to believe it's been that long...
I like the idea of a brain probe; I understand that they're doing great things with microscopic surgery these days.
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Why do you keep bringing this nonsense up??? You must be infatuated with Pat Murphy lol! Let it go comrade. Either that or have your meds changed.
Hiya! I knew you would show up. These threads always bring out the flies. Say "Howdy" to the Leprechaun if he's not locked up. Me? I'm just preachin' the truth to the faithful like I do when I get a whiff of rabbit droppings on the airwaves.
Al, we could remove all the crap Bunny-Boy has got stuffed up there during that probe, too. He'd be a much happier camper.
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Burned fellow privateers? That's dirty pool. His shows were shite anyway.
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Don't tell him that. When the interwebz were young he would post under different handles on D.C. regional radio boards promoting Pat Murphy as one of the market's "Radio Gods". The other guy's would figure out who he was and run him off. I can't remember if this was before or after he first told me he only had "four to six months to live" as it's been nearly 20 years ago.
I've seen some pretty big manure heaps on cattle farms, but never one as dense as Pat. I'm surprised he doesn't leave six inch deep footprints in the concrete when he goes strolling down the sidewalk.