ng cavscout

I have a few questions about sewer movement. What happens if your exit location is rubbled before you exit? What happens in an operation if you have units in transit in the sewer when the current battle ends?

Direct quote from V42's favorite site. "Visit our Kiev. Order number in hotel or flat. Meets with our ladies. Visa backing. Your travel will be indelible." Because what is the point of taking a delible trip? Even better "You'll find the true love of Ukrainian women and Russian women. Love love love - it is what do east European women seek. Noble foreign men - the most beautiful women wait for You. " Notice "Noble", so you olde ones, Canadians, and those from Minnesota need not apply. And my favorite "Become our member" Do I even need to comment on this? I am sure that all the hook-ups arranged by this firm are true "Love Matches" Maybe even a certain Gollum-like gnome that lives to my west, could find love? Instead of skulking around the banks of "his" lake, muttering to himself about the evil Mormon, or the evil Aussies (what do they have in their pocketses??), maybe he could exchange letters and pictures (the one that came in his wallet of course) with some naive little Ukrainian peasant girl. He could woo and amaze her with his tales of 3, count them, 3 meals a day!!!!! Running water!!! Low background radiation levels!!! Yes, things are looking up for our little gnome.

Welcome to the deep end of the gene pool

several more points of order, and not referring to your pointy heads Olde One's, Kniggets, and assorted other bottom feeders. One, you gentelmen, using the term loosely, put together the swamp runner scenario and sent it to me, but neglected to point me at an opponent. Don't get me wrong, I have no problem slapping someone at random upside their head with the cold,slimy fish of one of my patented Uber-Challenges, but I had the impression that you were going to assign me an opponent. If it slipped your Mad-Dog 20/20 addled minds, no problem but lets go, chop chop Two, ummm, nothing really, but it sounded better (and more accurate) talking about multiple pointy, forebrain lacking craniums in here than just one.

Actually it was Alabama to Tennessee to Connecticut to Rhode Island to Michigan to Minnesota. </font>

Let's keep in mind that Dame YK2 is in Scotland ... virtually anything that doesn't consist of bashing her over the head with a rock and dragging her into the heather can probably be considered romantic. Joe [/QB]

Good. Chop chop. </font>

Excellent work gentlemen. I spent half an hour just looking at my Russian troops and tanks advancing. Gorgeous map, and I haven't even heard any shooting yet.

Meeses are best lured with cheese, and then doused with sulphuric acid.

You mean you didn't introduce it to the wife? Where's your manners? Oh yeah, send me my turn pillocks! </font>

Life is sometimes, so fecking weird, I have to come in here for some sanity, that is saying something. So, the family and I are at Wal-Mart today, to get some carpet freshener stuff, cat food, and cat litter. I am drifting around the grocery section with my step son (Look dad, Shrimp!!! No Eric, those are Lobsters, but they are pretty cool) and trying to find the cat litter. I decide to ask one of the blue vested employees. I walk up to him, and what do my wondering eyes perceive? The HIV positive, cross dressing "exotic dancer" I pulled out of a house at gunpoint and arrested the day before Christmas. Well, he gave me my directions, and I said thank you and exited stage left, post haste. Luckily most people don't recognize you with out the blue suit. creeeeepy

Not that I am one of the Olde Ones, thank the gods, but since you were nice enough to ship one of those bottles this way, if it is allowed by the convoluted rules and mores of the Cesspool I give a vote to assigning you the title of "Official Purveyor of rare and probably illegal intoxicants". Just a rough working title, perhaps others you have bestowed your beneficence upon will add something? Nidan, turn me, chop chop.

AAR of battle (actually massacre is more technically accurate) versus Sirreal, or as I like to call him, the Sweaty Swede. So Sirreal flush from the tactical victory he eked out against me in our last meeting, sends me this Axis assault scenario, with me attacking. I purchased a platoon of Stug 42H's, the ones with the 105mm guns, for direct fire support. I purchase a company of infantry, to clear out any woods, because I know the Sweaty Swede likes to skulk in the roots like other small herbivores, and some mortars for indirect fire. What else was there? Oh yeah, one measly platoon of Tiger tanks, just to use up the last few points I had after my main purchases. So, I get the map from Sirreal, and it is the expected dreary, depressing, Nordic Bergman-esque, Scandanavian modern furniture like horror show. My first thought when seeing the scraggly trees, the grey oozy mud, and the scruffy mix of brush and rocks that extended across the map was, holy cow, so this is what Mordor looks like. Well, of course, the ground conditions are crappy, damp or wet, I forget, and both types of AFV's I have are huge ground pressure monsters. Utilizing that headstrong Wisconsinite stubborness, I proceed with my setup. I deploy the AFV's to provide overwatch, along with the Mortars and the mortar spotter, while my infantry is set up to the left, so they can advance under cover of some intermittent wooded areas. The mud made for slow going, but my infantry reached the first flag, and I began to slowly move my tanks and AG's forward. A sniper kills two of my Tiger TC's, and is killed in turn. Several T-34's dart out from behind a hill, spooked by my infantry I guess, and one of my Tiger's kills one with a lucky long range shot. The T-34's, true to Swedish form, spend the rest of the battle cowering behind some woods. I proceed to roll up the flank of his "defenses" [and I use the term loosely, since they consisted of some minefields, a few snipers, 2-3 machine guns, and 2 50mm mortars.] from left to right. I take very few casualties, mostly from some artillery he calls in at my Operational Rally Point, where I gathered my infantry for the final assault on the last flag. I prep the wooded area where the final VL was with indirect mortars, and direct fire from my Tigers and Stu's. I lay a smoke screen, and assault through, finding nothing there but a dead MG crew. Seeing his tanks now, still hiding behind the woods, I try close assaulting them, through the woods, that was a bad idea. The cowardly Red tankers mowed down a platoon of infantry, helped by the fact that I forgot all about Cannister rounds. One of my Tigers, short their TC, finally made its way up to the hiding spot of the Soviet armor, and took out 2-3 of them, I forget how many, before his troops surrendered. So, the Swede was destroyed, 86-14 as I recall. My games against Nidan and M. Sedai continue, Nidan is also getting his left flank rolled up, and M. Sedai is scurrying around some woods at the limit of my perception, like a cheerful, yet cowardly little chipmunk. I eagerly await turns from my honorable opponent, oh, and Nidan as well. Now, Joe Shaw , after abusing me with that monstrosity called Il be seeing you promised me another game, but his sloping forehead, dim, beady eyes, and knuckle dragging, suggest that perhaps, memory and cognitive abilities aren't his strong points, so I shall have to remind him, like a puppy, smacked over the head with a newspaper when he piddles, that he owes me a game. I realize that his obssessive nose picking and the occasional taste test of the "treasure" he finds leaves him with little spare time, but I think he can "squeeze it in", much like when he tries on bicycle shorts while dancing along to his bootleg stash of Milli Vanilli videos. Don't worry great and wonderful... whatever your title is, I forget sometimes Joey , hope you don't mind. It won't interfere with your foreclosing on the odd orphanage. [ August 05, 2003, 07:06 PM: Message edited by: NG cavscout ]

So, I am checking my E-mail, Seems that Spire of Goose Toes did send me his little challenge, and for some reason my E-mail filter sent it straight to the Junk folder? Maybe the Email AI is smarter than we think?

As much as I detest the Swede, I must agree with him, your challenge was as the howler monkey passing gas, but without the drama or human interest, you simply must try harder lad, you don't mind if I call you lad do you? Ahhh, I remember when I was a feeb such as you, well, not quite that bad, but not quite as awe inspiring as I am now, flailing about, demanding someone notice me. Go now, wipe your nose, and try again little fellow, you don't mind if I call you little fellow do you? And the icing on the cake is that here it is FOUR AND A HALF HOURS LATER and my mail box is as empty of a scenario as the new Ben Affleck/J-Lo movie is of ticket sales, as empty as, come on, you knew it was coming, Spire of Goose Toes head is of anything resembling intelligence, or originality. [ August 04, 2003, 11:33 PM: Message edited by: NG cavscout ]

You flee too soon sir, I haven't even drowned your troops in their own blood yet!!! [serious] I hope everything is alright, and I look forward to your return. I will save the game.[serious/]

Okay, send me your home address, and I'll get it out sometime this week. One down, and other takers? </font>

See, this is the problem with those off-Broadway musicals. Inbreed monogenetic twits like our little friend Suredisgustsus can't comprehend the lyrics. Next time, just some plain old boring rules would be fine -- not that the current lot of SSNs can understand them. . . By the way, any new Ker Dessel ideas? Steve </font>

Hoosier Daddy Now? </font>

Keep looking, my contact has to be here somewhere!!!

Now there's an idea... How about a good ol' Squire challenge? We'll need another victem. I'll whip up a map. Who'll handle the troop selections? Who'll do the weather and what not? </font>

Exactly, that is why it would be given a percentage chance, say 3 or less %. This would reflect the round going in a window and detonating in the floor, or bursting through a door with out detonating until it hits an interior wall, or whatever. Some kind of "critical hit" that would make that wimpy little 37mm HE suddenly hit just at the right time and place to turn that room in the heavy building into a sausage factory.

It seems news of you knockwurst lovers has leaked into the outside world. http://historyboards.freehosting.net/ Here is the evaluation of the entire BFC forum. "Highly recommended, especially to Combat Mission players, but much grognard stuff here too. "Peng" thread has taken on a life of its own - residents of this thread routinely rude, crude and obnoxious, especially to newcomers - it is part of a running gag and all in fun. Majority of threads are well moderated and civil, however." All in fun?

You mean to tell me that, somewhere out there, there isn't a website with the collected Peng threads? In a world that has Cockroach racing websites, and internet Bukkake clubs, there is no Peng website? wait, I found it http://www.cs.uiuc.edu/news/alumni/w99/ong.html And another http://www.groo.com/mail/msg00634.html Can you really beat the line "Grolly grolches mulches blochas wilchas wulches filches folches grimbets grombets whooha bob macanilly say nee peng willie Yeh"?