Leeo

Peng, Peng, the magical fruit, the more he bleats, the more I shoots, the more I shoots, the better I feels, So let's shoot Peng and all make him squeal!

When did it commence, you geriatric gandy-dancer, you Washed-up-tonian?

Piss Orff, Hiram (and a cheery How-dee-do to the Lady Moraine). Pillock.

Oh Boo..., Oh Boo? On this fecking urban map, where are you? Where for art thou, oh Boo?

I, on the hand other than the other hand, am a paragon of turn-sending virtue. FEAR ME!! Er, I mean, "check your inbox."

I Hates Stuartsess!! Well, when they're shooting at my clankety things, anyway.

Feck Off. I am merely a fan fo eht lesdexic Swedish Super-Grouper!

Harbor Lice; No way in hell I could act so nice... Harbor Lice; Pissing and moaning ought to suffice... OOooooo, Harbor Lice! This tune has been brought to you by the letters A B B and A

I will imbibe VODKA's succulent essence until reality plays nicer. Mehhhhh... I don't have the hair to harbor lice.

I Like Vodka! I used to like beer, but it didn't like my toes. Tended to form crystals and all that crap (Seanachai, take special note). However, VODKA appears to interact much more gracefully than hops and malt and yeast (Oh My!). I still hate the lot of you. Even VODKA can't help with that...

DING DING DING; Peng gets the award for the Question With The Most Obvious Answer Ever (QWTMOAE). However, such is not the reason for AGRRRHGHrrrherrhgrgrr. It's the "round 'n round" bit that (ulps) me.

AHHHhhrrGggggghghghgh! Methinks megoin' tohurl.

I was much more narcoleptic before my mirror broke.

It matters to me that I stomped Nidan1's quaking green volksturm in front of the Monument of Nations. Over running trenches and road block with combined arms and bold Stuart dashes. It was fun for me, not so much for him. I'll send him a random setup in the near future. The Gods of Chaos favor ME!!!! It matters to me that I finally killed one of Stuka's annoying Stuarts, one of which sniped and killed my uber PzIV. I plan to kill lots more Stuartsess. It matters to me that Boo is holed up in random urban terrain, and I get to be the jack booted terrier that drags his naked-tailed-ass out of the bunkers and shake him by the neck until he's very, very limp. Everything else? Matters? Only in the sense of particles playing gaily upon a Higgs-Boson field.

I get that from a lot of folks. Have no fear, dalem, and fear ye not, for it is when I get anear that Venusian love froths into smoke and disappears. Well, other than my dear lady one, for I had the dumb luck to have her imprint upon me, much like a confused swan becomes infatuated with old ratty sneakers. So love on (from afar), for love is too short in the world, and your honkings and hootings of soft adulation somehow become bearable when muted by some 1800 miles of distance.

PISS OFF AND DIE. Cheesy bile.

That feller needs Preparation Z, no way something as lowly as H is gonna do a damn bit o' good.

Wait one; ain't no way in HELL that Emrys is "lord god supreme being" of anything, with the possible exception of piles. Yep, that makes much more sense. Michael Emrys, Lord God Supreme Being of Piles. Maybe goiters, but I suspect piles are a better (discom)fit.

I Frikken HATE fekkin voodoo friggen dolls. So it has been, and so it shall ever be. Much like the way blisters pop and drain fluid between your toes; there ain't no way to stop it.

DON'T you DARE!!!! That's my gig, and good frogs it getses us, yesssss....

OOOoooo, thrash me with another cease-fire request; yes, Yes, YES, Yes, YEs, YES!!!! Thrash me with another ceasefire request. OOoooo, you know that's how I like it....

Correction; Now it's time for you to go-away-a-lot-now. You're welcome (not here, but for the advice).

CEREBELLUM. Any ideas on where I might find one?

I have thrashed one Boo Radley with a humiliating minor victory. However will he recover from such an ignoble de-feet, eh? Enquiring minds don't care!

I have old pictures of booze, olde memories of boose, and temporary forgetfulness of boooooozzzz. I want fountainss of bbiooose, and thrashing of petulant booossseee-holders, and Stuka's clamoring for bbooozze. All the rest can wait. HODGKINS "DISEASE" 111ONE111! (p.s., I've been cancer free for 20 years). You all still need a bath.