Please tell me I'm not the only one who does this.

Quote by JudyTV
I have done this in the past as well ice , so now I write my replies in word, unles its just a coule of lines, because it is set to Auto-save, so when the phone rings or you shut down the prog by accident or you misakenly hit delete it saves it to a temp file. I think this is standard now in all MS Word progs. As writing is part of my life anyway I save everything I write to word files including all my replies I'm just one of those avid savers except when it comes to money. Every now and again I drop all my MS word files to CD...hence Cd's everywhere, there is dozens and dozens of em here
JudyTV.

Quote by bluexxx
Nah, I just write any old bullshit.....

Quote by Sgt Bilko
Therein lies the difference between those that are here for the duration and post thoughtfully and the rest!! :? :?

Quote by neilinleeds
:rotflmao: :rotflmao:
you think i have a high post count? well you wanna see what i didn't post! or possibly you don't!
neil ;-)

Quote by easy
Yep I do it as well.
I usually find that I've found a great angle for a joke, but bu the time I've typed it up and got it so I like it either someone else has already made the crack or the topic has moved on and I end up looking like the drunk uncle whe fell asleep during the post-christmas dinner chatter.

Quote by Silk and Big G
You're spose to read the other peoples comments before you post !???
Who knew ?
G

Quote by Ice Pie
I've just spent half an eternity typing a post, editing it, adding bits in, cutting bits out, putting back the bits I cut, cutting out the bits I added, binning the whole thing, starting again, suddenly realising after the twenty-three-millionth rewrite that I had exactly what I started off with, hovering over the submit button, rewriting it a few dozen more times, finally feeling the mouse button under my finger and saying to myself "sod it, why bother", hitting the back button and there it was... gone!
If I had a typewriter, my discarded musings might be discovered by future historians, and I shudder to think what impression they would glean of the twenty-first Century from those approximately anonymous rambles, but this fangled bit of fanglery before which I sit means that such thoughts are consigned to the nothingness beyond the nothingness that is cyberspace, forever, and no doubt for the better, lost.
Sometimes, by the time I've finished forging my mental output into what may vaguely resemble the product of something more or less sentient, the topic has drifted so far off the end of charted cyberterritory, there's sign which reads "Abandon hope, ye who bump from here!", concensus has been reached, and the moment has been lost. On such occasions, I may save the meandering missive, either for posterity or the chance to unleash it on an unsuspecting newbie reintroducing the subject. Needless to say, this opportunity will be thwarted by yet more rewrites, further populating the electronic limbo with the disordered dissipations of a not-quite-orderly mind.
So, like, you know, am I the only one round here who has trouble getting to the point?

Quote by niceguysdoexist
NGDE dons black jeans, black trainers, Black sweatshirt, Black balaclava worn backwards with eye holes cut out(ok so I haven't got a bondage mask alright :P )Picks up long rubber handled torch(may come in handy for impressing the ladies )Sneaks out of house with screwdriver and credit card and 6lb lump hammer (one of ems going to get me in Neil's documents folder :twisted: ) Starts humming quietlyUnchained melody thinking unposted threads :twisted:
Sits out side Neils and waits ...and waits ,....and waits...yawnnnnnnnnnn FFS how much longer is the b****** stopping up. Watches Neil fetch another crate of Stella from Larder...Finally at 5:30 am Neil falls (literally ) asleep .NGDE makes entry and makes mental note doesn't need torch next time.....
Now to discover the real Neil..ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha (that cackly hysterical sort of laughter ...you know what I mean..)

Quote by dazandlou
I've just spent half an eternity typing a post, editing it, adding bits in, cutting bits out, putting back the bits I cut, cutting out the bits I added, binning the whole thing, starting again, suddenly realising after the twenty-three-millionth rewrite that I had exactly what I started off with, hovering over the submit button, rewriting it a few dozen more times, finally feeling the mouse button under my finger and saying to myself "sod it, why bother", hitting the back button and there it was... gone!
If I had a typewriter, my discarded musings might be discovered by future historians, and I shudder to think what impression they would glean of the twenty-first Century from those approximately anonymous rambles, but this fangled bit of fanglery before which I sit means that such thoughts are consigned to the nothingness beyond the nothingness that is cyberspace, forever, and no doubt for the better, lost.
Sometimes, by the time I've finished forging my mental output into what may vaguely resemble the product of something more or less sentient, the topic has drifted so far off the end of charted cyberterritory, there's sign which reads "Abandon hope, ye who bump from here!", concensus has been reached, and the moment has been lost. On such occasions, I may save the meandering missive, either for posterity or the chance to unleash it on an unsuspecting newbie reintroducing the subject. Needless to say, this opportunity will be thwarted by yet more rewrites, further populating the electronic limbo with the disordered dissipations of a not-quite-orderly mind.
So, like, you know, am I the only one round here who has trouble getting to the point?

Quote by Ice Pie
I've just spent half an eternity typing a post, editing it, adding bits in, cutting bits out, putting back the bits I cut, cutting out the bits I added, binning the whole thing, starting again, suddenly realising after the twenty-three-millionth rewrite that I had exactly what I started off with, hovering over the submit button, rewriting it a few dozen more times, finally feeling the mouse button under my finger and saying to myself "sod it, why bother", hitting the back button and there it was... gone!
If I had a typewriter, my discarded musings might be discovered by future historians, and I shudder to think what impression they would glean of the twenty-first Century from those approximately anonymous rambles, but this fangled bit of fanglery before which I sit means that such thoughts are consigned to the nothingness beyond the nothingness that is cyberspace, forever, and no doubt for the better, lost.
Sometimes, by the time I've finished forging my mental output into what may vaguely resemble the product of something more or less sentient, the topic has drifted so far off the end of charted cyberterritory, there's sign which reads "Abandon hope, ye who bump from here!", concensus has been reached, and the moment has been lost. On such occasions, I may save the meandering missive, either for posterity or the chance to unleash it on an unsuspecting newbie reintroducing the subject. Needless to say, this opportunity will be thwarted by yet more rewrites, further populating the electronic limbo with the disordered dissipations of a not-quite-orderly mind.
So, like, you know, am I the only one round here who has trouble getting to the point?